M. de Saa had been almost as badly treated by the Charpillon as myself, and we might have condoled with one another, but the subject was not mentioned.

A few days afterwards, as I was walking idly about, I passed a place called the Parrot Market.  As I was amusing myself by looking at these curious birds, I saw a fine young one in a cage, and asked what language it spoke.  They told me that it was quite young and did not speak at all yet, so I bought it for ten guineas.  I thought I would teach the bird a pretty speech, so I had the cage hung by my bed, and repeated dozens of times every day the following sentence:  “The Charpillon is a bigger wh—­e than her mother.”

The only end I had in view was my private amusement, and in a fortnight the bird had learnt the phrase with the utmost exactness; and every time it uttered the words it accompanied them with a shriek of laughter which I had not taught it, but which made me laugh myself.

One day Gondar heard the bird, and told me that if I sent it to the Exchange I should certainly get fifty guineas for it.  I welcomed the idea, and resolved to make the parrot the instrument of my vengeance against the woman who had treated me so badly.  I secured myself from fear of the law, which is severe in such cases, by entrusting the bird to my negro, to whom such merchandise was very suitable.

For the first two or three days my parrot did not attract much attention, its observations being in French; but as soon as those who knew the subject of them had heard it, its audience increased and bids were made.  Fifty guineas seemed rather too much, and my negro wanted me to lower the price, but I would not agree, having fallen in love with this odd revenge.

In the course of a week Goudar came to inform me of the effect the parrot’s criticism had produced in the Charpillon family.  As the vendor was my negro, there could be no doubt as to whom it belonged, and who had been its master of languages.  Goudar said that the Charpillon thought my vengeance very ingenious, but that the mother and aunts were furious.  They had consulted several counsel, who agreed in saying that a parrot could not be indicted for libel, but that they could make me pay dearly for my jest if they could prove that I had been the bird’s instructor.  Goudar warned me to be careful of owning to the fact, as two witnesses would suffice to undo me.

The facility with which false witnesses may be produced in London is something dreadful.  I have myself seen the word evidence written in large characters in a window; this is as much as to say that false witnesses may be procured within.

The St. James’s Chronicle contained an article on my parrot, in which the writer remarked that the ladies whom the bird insulted must be very poor and friendless, or they would have bought it at once, and have thus prevented the thing from becoming the talk of the town.  He added,—­