Page:Good Night (1907, Gates).djvu/47

 steps, and with the gloating look of the hunter fixed upon the cage, came Tomasso, the cat.

Quickly the parrot rallied from her panic. As if she knew that her arch-enemy was not seeking her now, but the precious bit of fluff at her side, she began a series of terror-inspiring performances learned in the profane garrison town of her hatching; she gave tongue to dire words that had long since gone out of her repertory. Ruffled to twice her size, she strutted along her perch, shrieking angry orders to mount, flinging out “''Vuelta! vuelta! vuelta!''” in husky trooper tones, and whistling the bugle calls.

It failed to scare Tomasso. Within the cage, as it gently