by Elizabeth Levy, illustrated by Mordicai Gerstein
Roaring Brook Press
"Excuse me, Don Quixote," I said. I stuck my hand into his cage. Feathers were everywhere. I couldn't believe how messy a parrot's cage could get. Don Quixote bent his majestic head with his curved beak toward me. He followed my every move, but he didn't attack me.
"You know Philippa, you're the only one he lets clean his cage, except me," said Philip.
We were in the captain's quarters, and I was helping Philip clean the cage for his parrot. Let me get something straight. I am not Philip's maid, even if he is the captain's son and the royal