Her voice was shrill and distinct, and very like the voice of an old
woman who came to the house for rags and bones. I followed her
out to the stable, and stayed there until she noticed me and
screamed out, "Ha, Joe, Beautiful Joe! Where's your tail? Who cut
your ears off?"

I don't think it was kind in the cabin boy to teach her this, and I
think she knew it teased me, for she said it over and over again,
and laughed and chuckled with delight. I left her and did not see
her till the next day, when the boys had got a fine, large cage for
her.

The place for her cage was by one of the hall windows; but
everybody in the house got so fond of her that she was moved
about from one room to another.

She hated her cage, and used to put her head close to the bars and
plead, "Let Bella out; Bella will be a good girl. Bella won't run
away."

After a time the Morrises did let her out, and she kept her word
and never tried to get away. Jack put a little handle on her cage
door so that she could open and shut it herself, and it was very
amusing to hear her say in the morning. "Clear the track, children!
Bella's going to take a walk," and see her turn the handle with her
claw and come out into the room. She was a very clever bird, and I
have never seen any creature but a human being that could reason
as she did. She was so petted and talked to that she got to know a
great many words, and on one occasion she saved the Morrises