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Show page 216 best. We'll use the pointer as a watchdog a short time only; the indignity of it might hurt his feelings." Miss L i l l i e stepped to the rear porch and switched on a light. Salem, in the seedbin, squawked, "Rough sea, mates, rough seal Ahoy, the old duffer is drunk again!" Hutch wiped, his hands on his large apron and came out to the porch. "Share the grog, mates, share the grog!" Salem squawked. "That is the kind of language that leads to perdition," Miss L i l l i e said. "A talking bird is r a r e , Miss L i l l i e , " Hutch said, plaintively. "Even a bad-talking bird is r a r e ." "Let the dishes go, Hutch. Get the bird. We'll drop him off at McClain's on the way to Mr. Wilkey's." Hutch took a hand l i g h t x<dth him. Salem was s t r u t t i n g atop seed sacks, heavy from eating whatever loose seeds were about. He came to Hutch, perched on his w r i s t . In the truck he nuzzled against Hutch, raised his head only when Miss L i l l i e slowed for Songster's yard. "A bad night, mate. Where's the saloon, mate?" Salem said. Miss L i l l i e pursed her l i p s. Songster's house was as dark as the inside of a bee t r e e. Hutch hailed Songster several times, got no answer. He looked around for somewhere t o leave the parrot. A "Don't leave me, mate!" Salem screamed and rubbed up against Hutch's chest. Hutch could feel the b i r d ' s heart beating. There was only one tfeSiig to do, Ae"W5d. Miss L i l l i e agreed, and that was to take |
