Harry's Mad

by Dick King-Smith

Introduction- from book

Having a Grey African parrot foisted upon him all the way from America isn't Harry's idea of a decent legacy. He'd been dreaming of untold riches then all he'd got was this boring old parrot! But when Mad introduces himself in perfect American, Harry discovers that the parrot has hidden talents.

For Mad is not just a chatty beak. He is an ace at board games and crosswords, a fund of useful information and a natural mimic. Even Harry's homework improves under Mad's expert tuition and soon the whole family is wondering what they ever did without him.

page 36-38

Mr Holdsworth put down his newspaper.

"That bird actually made a noise," he said, "that sounded almost like a word."

Opposite him, Harry was grinning all over his face.

"Now what's the joke?" said his father.

"Say 'Good morning', Harry said.

"I've already said it when I came downstairs."

"No, not to me Dad. Say 'Good morning' to Madison."

"Don't be so silly, Harry," his mother said. "Let Daddy read his paper in peace."

"Oh go on, Dad."

Mr Holdsworth shook his head resignedly.

"Well, if I must," he said. He looked at the parrot.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," said Madison.

"Well I'm blowed," said Mr Holdsworth. "When did you learn to say that?"

Madison had opened his bill to say, "Oh, about forty years ago" when he saw Harry put his finger to his lips, so he shut it again.

"So you have actually begun to teach him things?" said his mother. "You just kept saying it to him till he repeated it? He said it very clearly, didn't he?"

"Yes."

Mrs Holdsworth leaned forward. "Good morning Madison," she said.

Madison bobbed his head at her.

"Good morning Madison," he replied.

"What a clever old bird you are," she said.

"What a clever old bird you are," said Madison.

"Amazing," said Harry's father. "He's a natural mimic. We might have known that Uncle George wouldn't have bothered with just any old parrot. Isn't it strange though, here's this creature repeating what we say, word for word..."

"Pronouncing everything quite correctly," interrupted Harry's mother, "and what's more, if you notice, with a distinct American accent."

"...which he well might," went on her husband, "considering after all Uncle George must often have played this sort of game with him, and yet - and this is the point of course - when it comes to the actual meaning of what we are saying, the bird hasn't a clue. Isn't that right my friend," he said to Madison, "not a clue?"

"Not a clue," said Madison gravely.

"It's a pity they haven't got proper brains like us, isn't it Dad? I mean, he could help you with the Sunday Times crossword puzzle."

"Don't be silly, Harry," said his mother, and to her husband, "off you go and settle down with your precious puzzle. Harry, time for you to do the washing up please. Put Madison back in his cage first."

"Yes Mum," Harry said.

In the passage between kitchen and sitting room he stopped for a moment, out of earshot of both parents.

"Mad," he said softly.

"Yeah, Harry?"

"Shall we let them in on the secret now?"

"I sure hope so, Harry boy. It's kinda weird, just repeating stuff all the time. Makes me feel a real dope."

"OK Mad," said Harry. "But wait till I've finished the washing up. I don't want to miss this."