Jaco is very timid.  In the evening, when he is put to roost in a close and dark room, he is afraid of the shadow of his perch that is cast by the light we carry in our hand; he eyes it, and utters a low cry, which stops when the candle is blown out and he cannot see the shadow any longer.  He stands in dread of blows in the bottom of his cage, because, having a wing broken, he cannot fly, and is afraid of falling.  Feeling his weakness, his language has a different tone from the usual one.  Large birds flying in the sky above him annoy him greatly, and we can all tell by his voice when such a bird is near or flying over.  He inclines his head and chatters in a low tone as long as the bird is in sight, paying no attention to anything else.  Turkeys and hens announce the approach of a bird of prey in a similar manner.

We find in the facts which we have related, as well as in many others which are cited respecting the ways and habits of parrots, proofs of a remarkable intelligence.  These creatures are distinguished by the unlimited affection which they bestow upon some persons, as well as by their excessive dislikes, which nothing can explain.  Jaco conceived an extraordinary dislike for a maid who, although she took good care of him, was in the habit of washing the bottom of his cage under a faucet.  He afterward discarded another person, whom he had liked so much that she could do what she pleased with him, even to passing her hand over his back and taking him by the tail, holding him in her hands, or putting him in her apron—­caresses of a kind that parrots do not usually permit.  Nothing astonished him or offended him.  He proved very inconstant toward her, and now, while better disposed toward the other girl, he is furious against this one.  A third miss has come to capture his affection; and when he has been left asleep, or resting in his cage, he has always the same word, but different in the inflection wheedling, angry, or nearly indifferent, as either of the three persons comes near him.  Jaco’s pronunciation is scanned in many meters.  Only one young student has had the privilege of retaining his affection unmarred.

Jaco had been left in the country for a whole week in the winter.  Alone and isolated, he was taken care of by a person who was not constantly with him.  The young student, accompanied by a tutor, came to pass a few days in the house.  At the sight of the youth, Jaco, surprised, called out, “Momon!  Momon!” “It was affecting,” they wrote me, “to see so great signs of joy.”  I have also myself witnessed similar signs of joy at the coming of the student.  Jaco’s speech at such times is always in harmony with his feelings.  In the pleasant season Jaco’s cage is put outdoors; and at meal times, knowing very well what is going on within, he keeps up a steady course of suppliant appeals for attention.  His appeals cease at once if I go out with fruit in my hand, and if I go toward him he utters a prattle of joy that sounds like musical laughter.  These manifestations indicate that he is happy at seeing that he has been thought of.