He was a lovely creature (the cockatoo, not the cousin, who was plain), and John Broom’s admiration of him was boundless.  He gazed at the sulphur-colored crest, the pure white wings with their deeper-tinted lining, and even the beak and the fierce round eyes, as he had gazed at the broom bush in his babyhood, with insatiable delight.

The cousin did things handsomely.  He had had a ring put round one of the cockatoo’s ankles, with a bright steel chain attached and a fastener to secure it to the perch.  The cockatoo was sent in the cage by coach, and a perch, made of foreign wood, followed by the carrier.

Miss Betty and Miss Kitty were delighted both with the cockatoo and the perch, but they were a good deal troubled as to how to fasten the two together.  There was a neat little ring on the perch, and the cockatoo’s chain was quite complete, and he evidently wanted to get out, for he shook the walls of his cage in his gambols.  But he put up his crest and snapped when any one approached, in a manner so alarming that Annie the lass shut herself up in the dairy, and the farm-bailiff turned his speckled hat in his hands, and gave cautious counsel from a safe distance.

“How he flaps!” cried Miss Betty.  “I’m afraid he has a very vicious temper.”

“He only wants to get out, Miss Betty,” said John Broom.  “He’d be all right with his perch, and I think I can get him on it.”

“Now Heaven save us from the sin o’ presumption!” cried the farm-bailiff, and putting on the speckled hat, he added, slowly:  “I’m thinking, John Broom, that if ye’re engaged wi’ the leddies this morning it’ll be time I turned my hand to singling these few turnips ye’ve been thinking about the week past.”

On which he departed, and John Broom pressed the little ladies to leave him alone with the bird.

“We shouldn’t like to leave you alone with a wild creature like that,” said Miss Betty.

“He’s just frightened on ye, Miss Betty.  He’ll be like a lamb when you’re gone,” urged John Broom.

“Besides, we should like to see you do it,” said Miss Kitty.

“You can look in through the window, miss.  I must fasten the door, or he’ll be out.”

“I should never forgive myself if he hurt you, John,” said Miss Betty, irresolutely, for she was very anxious to have the cockatoo and perch in full glory in the parlour.

“He’ll none hurt me, miss,” said John, with a cheerful smile on his rosy face.  “I likes him, and he’ll like me.”

This settled the matter.  John was left with the cockatoo.  He locked the door, and the little ladies went into the garden and peeped through the window.

They saw John Broom approach the cage, on which the cockatoo put up his crest, opened his beak slowly, and snarled, and Miss Betty tapped on the window and shook her black satin workbag.

“Don’t go near him!” she cried.  But John Broom paid no attention.