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Nesbit, E. (Edith), 1858-1924

"The Phoenix and the Carpet"

Now don't be upset and have a fit or
anything sir. Of course, I know when you called your shop the
"Phoenix" you never thought there was one; but there is--and
Robert's got it buttoned up against his chest!'
'If it's an old curio in the form of a Phoenix, I dare say the
Board--' said the nice gentleman, as Robert began to fumble with
his buttons.
'It's old enough,' said Anthea, 'going by what it says, but--'
'My goodness gracious!' said the gentleman, as the Phoenix, with
one last wriggle that melted into a flutter, got out of its nest in
the breast of Robert and stood up on the leather-covered table.
'What an extraordinarily fine bird!' he went on. 'I don't think I
ever saw one just like it.'
'I should think not,' said the Phoenix, with pardonable pride. And
the gentleman jumped.
'Oh, it's been taught to speak! Some sort of parrot, perhaps?'
'I am,' said the bird, simply, 'the Head of your House, and I have
come to my temple to receive your homage. I am no parrot'--its
beak curved scornfully--'I am the one and only Phoenix, and I
demand the homage of my High Priest.'
'In the absence of our manager,' the gentleman began, exactly as
though he were addressing a valued customer--'in the absence of our
manager, I might perhaps be able--What am I saying?' He turned
pale, and passed his hand across his brow.


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