THE time had come for Bobby Bobolink to sing before the Pleasant Valley
Singing Society. Mr. Meadowlark brought Bobby to the meeting, along the
rail fence between the meadow and the pasture. And he told everybody
that there wasn't really any need of such a test.
"He's by far the finest singer in all these parts," Mr. Meadowlark
declared.
There were a few who might have disputed his statement, had not Bobby
Bobolink been present. They were too polite, however, to do anything
like that. But Mr. Meadowlark himself had a voice of remarkable
sweetness. And many thought that it couldn't be equalled.
"Bobby Bobolink will have to sing for us, just like anybody else, before
we make him a member of this Society," Buddy Brown Thrasher cried, after
he had given a whistle, "Wheeu!" as if to say that he, for one, doubted
Mr. Meadowlark's words. For Buddy Brown Thrasher liked his own singing
about as well as any he had ever heard. In the morning, and again at
night, he was fond of perching himself on the topmost twig of a tree,
where nobody could help seeing him, and singing a song over and over
again. It was his favorite song--and the only one he knew. And having
practiced it all his life, how he could sing it!
Well, after Buddy Brown Thrasher's remarks there was only one thing to
be done. Bobby Bobolink must sing for the Society. And Mr. Meadowlark
turned to him and told him that he might begin at once.
So Bobby alighted on the end of a fence-rail and such a torrent of song
burst upon the ears of his listeners as they had never heard before. The
notes came tumbling so quickly one upon another that most of the members
of the Singing Society began to look bewildered. Bobby Bobolink's
singing was almost too fast for even their sharp ears.
He hadn't sung long before somebody interrupted him. Somebody called in
a loud voice, "I object!"
It was Buddy Brown Thrasher that spoke. Bobby Bobolink stopped short in
the middle of his song. And at once a great clamor arose, when all the
other members asked Buddy what he meant.
"I mean," said Buddy Brown Thrasher, as soon as he could make himself
heard, "I mean that Bobby Bobolink is playing a trick on us. He has
about half a dozen of his friends hidden in the pasture. And they're
helping him. They're singing with him."
Everybody was astonished. And as for Bobby Bobolink, he couldn't seem to
say a word for himself.
Luckily he didn't need to. For just then his wife came bustling up and
settled herself right in the midst of the Singing Society.
Proud as she was of her husband's voice, she hadn't been able to stay
away from the meeting. So she had hovered near-by, where she could hear
everything without being seen.
"Sir!" she said to Buddy Brown Thrasher. "Kindly point out these hidden
friends of my husband!"
Buddy Brown Thrasher looked somewhat uneasy.
"I--I haven't _seen_ anybody in the bushes," he stammered.
"Find them!" Mrs. Bobolink ordered. Her manner was so stern that Buddy
Brown Thrasher did not dare disobey. He searched high and low. But he
couldn't find a bird anywhere in the pasture.
"You see you were mistaken," Mrs. Bobolink told him severely.
Everybody agreed with her. And then and there they made Bobby Bobolink a
member of the Pleasant Valley Singing Society. There was no doubt that
he had sung his song without a bit of help.
"It was wonderful!" everybody exclaimed--everybody but Buddy Brown
Thrasher. He muttered that it was no wonder he made a mistake, for he
didn't know the song himself. And he said it was much too fast for his
taste.