twittering of the canary. However, the clerk, who was now a bird himself,
understood his companions perfectly.
“I used to fly beneath green palms and flowering almond trees,” the
canary bird sang. “With my brothers and sisters, I flew above beautiful
flowers, and over the smooth sea where the plants that grow under water
waved up at us. We used to meet many brilliant parrots, who told us the
funniest stories-long ones and so many.”
“Those were wild parrots!” said Polly. “Birds without any education.
Come now, let us be men. Why don't you laugh? If the lady and all her
guests laugh at my remark, so should you. To lack a sense of humor is a
very bad thing. Come now, let us be men.”
“Do you remember the pretty girls who danced in the tents spread
beneath those flowering trees?” the canary sang. “Do you remember those
delicious sweet fruits, and the cool juice of the wild plants?”
“Why yes,” said the parrot, “but I am much better off here, where I get
the best of food and intimate treatment. I know that I am a clever bird, and
that's enough for me. Come now, let us be men. You have the soul of a poet,
as they call it, and I have sound knowledge and wit. You have genius, but
no discretion. You burst into that shrill, spontaneous song of yours. That's
why people cover you up. They don't ever treat me like that. No, I have cost
them a lot and, what is more imposing, my beak and my wits are sharp.
Come now, let us be men.”
“Oh, my warm flowery homeland!” said the canary. “I shall sing of your
deep green trees and your quiet inlets, where the down-hanging branches
kiss the clear mirror of the waters. I shall sing of my resplendent brothers
and sisters, who rejoice as they hover over the cups of water in the cactus
plants that thrive in the desert.”
“Kindly stop your whimpering tunes,” the parrot said. “Sing something to
make us laugh. Laughter is a sign of the loftiest intellectual development.
Can a dog or a horse laugh? No! They can cry, but as for laughter-that is
