The children were rushing here and there about the stage, and Mr. Treadwell was trying to see where the strange bird was going to light, when Bunny Brown cried out: 

“’Tisn’t an owl at all!  It’s Mr. Jed Winkler’s parrot!”

And when the fluttering bird had come to rest on top of the stage barn, it was seen that it was just what Bunny said—­a big, green parrot.  There it perched, picking at a make believe shingle with its hooked bill, and calling in its shrill voice: 

“No tramps allowed!  No tramps allowed!  Call the dog!  Here, Towser!  Give him a cold potato and let him go!  Bow wow!”

Then how all the children laughed!

“Why, it surely is Mr. Winkler’s parrot!” exclaimed Mr. Treadwell, as he looked at the green bird.  “He was safe in his cage when I came out this morning, but he must have got loose.  I’d better go and tell Miss Winkler, for she likes the parrot as much as she doesn’t like Jed’s monkey.  She told me she was teaching the parrot to say some new words, but I didn’t know they were about tramps or I would have known right away it wasn’t any of you children speaking during the play.  Come on down, Polly!” called the actor to the green bird.

But Polly seemed to like it up on top of the stage barn, and from the top of the roof it cried again: 

“No tramps!  No tramps allowed!  Towser, get after the tramps!”

The children laughed again, and Mr. Treadwell said: 

“It wouldn’t do to have the parrot in the play, or he’d spoil the first scene.  Now I’d better go and tell Miss Winkler where she can find the bird.”

But he was saved this trouble, for just then Miss Winkler herself came up the stairs leading from the hall at one side of the hardware store.

“Is my parrot here, Mr. Treadwell?” she asked the actor who boarded at her house.  “I let him out of his cage when I was cleaning it a while ago, and when I looked for him, to put him back, he was gone.  One of my windows was open and he must have flown out.  Some of my neighbors said they saw a big bird flying toward the hardware store, so I came over.  Mr. Raymond and I couldn’t find him downstairs, and he told me to look up here.  Have you seen Polly?”

The big, green bird answered for himself then, for he cried out: 

“Look out for tramps!”

“Oh, there you are!” exclaimed Miss Winkler.  “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, Polly, to fly off like that?  You’ll catch your death of cold; too, coming out this wintry weather!  Here, come to me!”

She held out her hand, and the parrot fluttered down to one finger.  Miss Winkler scratched the green bird’s head, and the parrot seemed to like this.

“No tramps allowed!” he cried.

“I taught him to say that!” said Miss Winkler.  “I thought it would be a good thing for a parrot to say.  Often tramps come around when Jed isn’t at home, and if they hear Polly speaking they’ll think it’s a man and go away.  Now, Polly, we’ll go home!”