IT had never occurred to Mr. Meadowlark that Bobby Bobolink's wife might
object to her husband's joining the Singing Society. But Bobby seemed
doubtful.
"I'll have to ask her," he said. "You see, we're just about to build
ourselves a house. And she may think I ought not to belong to any
societies at present."
Just then little, yellowish-brown Mrs. Bobolink came skimming over the
meadow and dropped down beside them.
"Would you mind, my love, if I joined the Pleasant Valley Singing
Society?" Bobby asked her.
"Perhaps you'd like to become a member yourself," Mr. Meadowlark
suggested nervously.
But Mrs. Bobolink hastened to say that she wasn't musical. "Of course I
enjoy _hearing_ songs," she told him; "but I'm not much of a singer
myself."
"Your husband is one of the best," Mr. Meadowlark told her hopefully.
"Yes!" she replied. "And sometimes I think he spends almost too much of
his time practicing."
"Oh, I can sing and work at the same time," Bobby Bobolink declared.
"When we begin work on our new house I shall be singing most of the
time."
"How often does your Society meet?" Mrs. Bobolink asked Mr. Meadowlark.
"We have a little sing almost every fine day," he informed her. "But
your husband needn't come to every meeting--if he's too busy. And if
necessary he can leave before our sings are finished--except when he
takes the test."
"The test!" Mrs. Bobolink echoed. "What's that?"
Mr. Meadowlark explained that before becoming a member everybody had to
sing before the Society. "Those that don't sing well enough don't get
in," he added. "For instance, there's old Mr. Crow. His voice is too
hoarse. So he doesn't belong to the Society."
Well, the moment she heard that, Mrs. Bobolink made up her mind at
once.
"My husband can pass any singing test that you can give him!" she
exclaimed. "The idea of mentioning him and Mr. Crow in the same breath!"
"Pardon me!" Mr. Meadowlark said hastily. "I took several breaths just
before I spoke about Mr. Crow." He hoped that he hadn't offended Bobby
Bobolink's wife.
She wasn't really angry. But she was proud of her husband's voice. And
she wanted Mr. Meadowlark to know it.
"I wouldn't think of such a thing as not letting Bobby join your
Society," she declared. "And as soon as we've finished our new house he
can go to every meeting you have, and stay till the end, too."
All this time Bobby Bobolink had been listening anxiously. And when he
heard his wife's last remark he was so overjoyed that he sprang into the
air and began to sing the happiest song he knew, while he darted back
and forth above the heads of his wife and their caller.
"Just listen to him!" Mrs. Bobolink cried, with an air of pride. "Can
you beat that?"
Mr. Meadowlark made a modest reply. He said that in his opinion Bobby
Bobolink was the finest singer that had ever come to Pleasant Valley.
And Mrs. Bobolink was so pleased that she confessed she hoped her
husband could take his test just as soon as possible.
"He shall take it to-morrow!" Mr. Meadowlark promised.