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My next pet was a pigeon. He was still very young. He was the most revolting bird to look at, with his feathers pushing through the wrinkled scarlet skin, mixed, with the horrible yellow down that covers baby pigeons and makes them look as though they have been peroxiding their hair. Because of his repulsive and obese appearance, Larry suggested we call him Quasimodo and, liking the name without realizing the implications, I agreed. Owing to his unorthodox upbringing, and the fact that he had no parents to teach him the facts of life, Quasimodo became convinced that he was not a bird at all,, and refused to fly. Instead, he walked everywhere. If he wanted to get onto a table, or a chair he stood below it, ducking his head and cooing in a rich contral to until someone lifted him up. He was always eager to join us in anything we did, and would even try to come for walks with us. This, however, we had to stop, for either you carried him on your shoulder, which was risking an accident to your clothes, or else, you let him walk behind. If you let him walk, then you had to slow down your own pace to suit his, for should you get too far ahead you would hear the most frantic and imploring coos and turn around to find Quasimodo running desperately after you, his chest pouted out with indignation at your cruelty. Gerald Durrell

Q1.What did Quasimodo do when he wanted to get on to a table or chair?

Answer 1

Answer:

If he wanted to get onto a table, or a chair he stood below it, ducking his head and cooing in a rich contral to until someone lifted him up.