“‘Johnny dear, open my cage.  I want to take a walk,’ she would say in her most coaxing manner.  If she happened to be already out of her cage and walking about the room, she endeavored to get him to leave me by saying:  ’Here, Johnny, boy, put me on your finger.  Kiss poor Bessie—­p-o-o-r Bessie.’

“Mrs. Morris used to laugh at these schemes of the parrot to attract notice, and said Bessie reminded her of some people she had met who always wanted to monopolize the conversation.”

“Monopolize?” said I.  “That’s a large word.  I don’t know the meaning of it.”

“Well, I think it means getting the most of anything and crowding other people out,” replied the admiral; “and it was true in Bessie’s case, for she always wanted the most attention.  A gentleman friend of the Morrises had this habit too.  He had been a general in a war that took place in the South a good many years ago, and was often entertained at dinner at the Morrises’.  Though he was a well-informed, genial man, he was almost rude in making himself heard, so determined was he that people should listen to his jokes and stories, which were generally something about himself.  At a large tableful of guests, General Peterson’s voice was always heard above that of every one else.  He seemed to compel the rest of the company to listen.  His big voice drowned the others out.  Though Mr. and Mrs. Morris liked him very much, when they were alone they often ridiculed this disagreeable habit.

“‘Bessie and General Peterson are just alike,’ Mrs. Morris used to say jokingly, when the parrot pushed herself into notice by her loud jabbering.  ’Neither of them can endure to have any one else receive attention when they are present.’

“Although Bessie had not a pony to ride on as Johnny had, she took a great many jaunts around the parlors on the cat’s back.  This cat was a great pet in the house.  A very striking-looking cat he was too.  He was jet black with a flat face and long white whiskers.  Johnny always said he resembled an old colored man who used to be their coachman, and he wondered if they were any relation to each other.

“When Bessie was out of her cage the cat did not often visit the parlor, because he was afraid of her.  He always appeared to be much relieved when she did not notice him.  If she had decided to take a ride, however, he never was quick enough to get away from her.  With a shrill laugh of triumph she would fly upon his back, and holding on by digging her claws into his fur, around and around the room they would go, the poor cat feeling so completely disgraced that he dragged his body lower and lower at every step, until his legs could scarcely be seen at all.