EVERYBODY--almost--liked Bobby Bobolink. His neighbors in Farmer
Green's meadow enjoyed his singing. And they thought him the merriest
harum-scarum they had ever known. He was even cheerful to look at, too.
For with every bright day that passed, Bobby Bobolink's dress took on a
gayer hue. The truth was that the yellowish tips of his feathers were
wearing away, leaving him a handsome suit of black, set off by a
generous patch of creamy yellow on the back of his neck, with enough
white on his back and shoulders to make a most jaunty costume.
Most of the field people enjoyed Bobby Bobolink's company, for he was
always in high spirits. And many of them were vain enough to like to
be seen with him, on account of his dashing appearance. Mr. Red-winged
Blackbird was especially fond of Bobby's companionship. And he was
forever speaking of his old friend, Bobby Bobolink, and acting as if
he knew Bobby a great deal better than anybody else did.
Mr. Red-winged Blackbird never tired of telling the neighbors about the
good times he and Bobby had together when they were in the South. And he
related many things about Bobby that some of the feathered folk hadn't
heard of.
"There isn't anybody in the valley that has more names than Bobby
Bobolink," Mr. Red-winged Blackbird said to Mr. Crow one day. "Some
people call him the Reed Bird. And down South they scarcely know the
name Bobolink. Down there everybody calls him the Rice Bird. And there's
an island far off in the southern seas where people speak of him as the
Butter Bird."
Now, if the truth must be known, old Mr. Crow was a bit jealous of
Bobby Bobolink. It was said--by those that ought to have known--that
Mr. Crow didn't like it because Bobby Bobolink was not only a member
of the Pleasant Valley Singing Society, but its finest singer as well.
Unfortunately, Mr. Crow's husky voice had always prevented his joining
the Society. And somehow--having heard that Bobby was very fond of
rice--Mr. Crow could not get the notion out of his head that he might
be just as fond of corn.
If Mr. Crow thought anybody but himself liked corn he was sure to be
spiteful towards him. You might have thought, from the way Mr. Crow
acted, that Farmer Green didn't raise enough corn to go around.
"How does it happen," Mr. Crow inquired slyly of Mr. Red-winged
Blackbird, "that your friend Bobby Bobolink has all these names? It
can't be--can it--that he is a rogue and is always changing his name
so people won't know who he is?"
"Certainly not!" Mr. Red-winged Blackbird snapped. "Only a stupid person
would ask such a question as that."
Just then Bobby Bobolink himself flashed across the meadow and joined
them. And Mr. Red-winged Blackbird began to talk about the weather.
He was afraid that Mr. Crow intended to be disagreeable.