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.

"What are you putting up that top-knot of yours at me for?" said he to
the cockatoo. "Don't ye know your own friends? I'm going to let ye out,
I am. You're going on to your perch, you are."

"Eh, but you're a bonny creature!" he added, as the cockatoo filled the
cage with snow and sulphur flutterings.

"Keep away, keep away!" screamed the little ladies, playing a duet on
the window panes.

"Out with you!" said John Broom, as he unfastened the cage door.

And just when Miss Betty had run round, and as she shouted through the
keyhole, "Open the door, John Broom. We've changed our minds. We've
decided to keep it in its cage," the cockatoo strode solemnly forth on
his eight long toes.

"Pretty Cocky!" said he.