Famous Missouri Parrot Dies At 52

Was a Wise Old Bird and a Great Talker.

Could Carry on a Conversation With Herself -- Cyclones Her Only Terror.

WEST PLAINS, Mo., May 20 -- "How firm a foundation, ye Saints of the Lord" ----

The shrill voice of "Polly" Langston, singing her favorite hymn while perched on the rail of the front porch of the home of Mrs. T. J. Langston, will be heard no more, for "Polly," Missouri's most famous parrot, is dead. And in the yard where "Polly" was wont to strut before strangers and play with the children, a grave has been dug and "Polly" laid to rest.

"Polly" died at the age of 52, after a very strenuous career. Born in Cuba, she swore in excellent Spanish at the age of 3. Taken to New Orleans, she attracted the attention of Dr. Thomas Bradford, Mrs. Langston's father, who was killed in the Marshfield, Mo., cyclone in 1880.

Taught to Pray and Sing.
When "Polly" was in her teens she was taught to pray and sing. Her favorite hymn was, "How Firm a Foundation," and she could sing several stanzas. But persons not in the family taught "Polly" to swear equally well. One night Dr. and Mrs. Bradford took her to a Methodist camp meeting. When the minister began "Polly" interrupted.

"Preacher, preacher! Pray for that ornery ------" and "Polly" named a prominent citizen. It almost broke up the meeting.

On another occasion, when a prayer meeting was held in the Bradford home, "Polly," overcome by the emotion of a sister, broke into prayer, and concluded with a volley of oaths in English and Spanish.

In the late '70s, the Barnum and Bailey circus visited Marshfield. "Polly," on the porch, volubly cussed the passing performers, roustabouts, animals and canvass men. P. T. Barnum was attracted and tried to purchase her.

"Do you think we'd sell one of our children?" Mrs. Bradford demanded.

Polly Survives a Tornado.
The Bradford home was demolished by a tornado in 1880. Rescuers, removing the dead and injured from the ruins of homes, heard a voice wailing, "Mamma, oh, mamma."

Thinking it was a child, they dug into the ruins of the Bradford home. They found "Polly" near the unconscious form of Mrs. Bradford. The doctor was dead.

Mrs. Bradford recovered, but her son died of his injuries. The pitiful and almost constant calling of "Polly" for "Pa" and "Buddie" caused Mrs. Bradford to send the bird to a married daughter, of this city.

Could Imitate Women's Small Talk.
"Polly" always attended the meeting of the Ladies' Aid and W. C. T. U. in the Langston home. She remembered the small talk on such occasions and one of her favorite pastimes was to carry on a conversation with herself.

"Good-by, Mrs. Smith," she would say.

"I had such a pleasant time."

"The cream was excellent."

"Do come again."

"Yes, thank you."

"Polly's" experiences in the tornado made her wary of storms, and with darkening skies she would hurry into the house. At the first peal of thunder she would cry, "Cyclone! Cyclone!" and seek the darkness of a closet.

--The Saturday Blade, Chicago, May 22, 1920, page 7.


Comment: The following article is from almost a year later, and in it Polly is 53 years old at the time of her death, not 52.

Polly Remembered Cyclone.

A parrot, named Polly Langston, died recently at the age of fifty-three. A native of Missouri, Polly was a feathered prodigy whose remarkable talents included many vocal and linguistic accomplishments. She could sing and talk in English as well as Spanish, her mother tongue; pray and sing several of the old familiar hymns, which she had picked up at church and social gatherings, besides having a wide repertory of conversational "small talk." At one time, when the circus came to her local town, and Polly had poured forth her sage salutations to the passing paraders, the attention of the late P. T. Barnum was attracted to her and a large cash offer was made for her, but her owner could not be induced to part with her. She remembered to her passing hour an event of her early life when a cyclone wrecked the town and brought death to scores of the inhabitants. Polly survived by a miracle but for more than 40 years afterwards whenever the dark clouds gathered she became so frantic with fear that it was necessary to put her where she would escape the lightning's flash and the roar of thunder.

--The Indiana Progress, Indiana, Pennsylvania, April 27, 1921, page 4.