The overriding concern of Mr Hawksmoor Perroquet, as he flitted in and out of the upper canopy of Dogging Wood, was not to be seen, inasmuch as he wished to avoid setting tongues to wag or beaks to chatter about his frequenting that Sodom above the gorge. Although the branches up there were - at least while some light remained - free of the debauchery upon the forest floor, they were nonetheless home to a host of avian species, for the most part either brainless or villainous. It began to grow dark now, and of his once abandoned wife and child there was as yet no sign. —
Hawksmoor Perroquet, Dogging Wood, Arabella Melopsittaca
The manes of his ancestors now seemed to swoop about him in his nest of thorns, and to reproach him for abandoning that innocent and foolish budgerigar whom he had seduced into miscegenation. They nipped and pecked at him with their beaks, and squawked in his ear —
Arabella Melopsittaca
In truth, Mrs Arabella Melopsittica and her daughter were most enthusiastic to take up his suggestion, having been thoroughly discombobulated by much the same intimations of rape and pillage which had driven Mr Hawksmoor Perroquet to the edge of reason. And so, with nary a backward glance, they forsook that accursed grove, and took wing, and flapped away to Hotwells, where their Lord and Master ensconced them in a boutique hotel with a most well appointed aviary annex. —
Hotwells
“For many years,” said Miss Isolde Acridotheres, “when we dwelt in the menagerie of the ornithologist, we lived under the protection of Mr Tristram Acridotheres. I learnt to think of him as my Papa, until Mama told me that you were.” —
Mr Tristram Acridotheres
Mr Hawksmoor Perroquet at this point thought it best to conclude their interview for the present. With countless expressions of remorse and vows of renewed fealty and promises to show his knickers as soon as he could procure some, he took his leave of Mrs Arabella Melopsittaca and Miss Isolde Acridotheres, and took wing and flapped away from Hotwells. —
Hotwells
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