Not knowing who gave the strange cry near their home, Bobby Bobolink and
his wife held their breaths and waited. They never dreamed that it was
their good friend, Mr. Catbird, hidden in a bush near-by, who was trying
to imitate one of Bobby's songs.
Meanwhile that fun-loving fellow smiled broadly to himself. And giving
his tail an upward toss he opened his mouth once more, only to give
voice to one of the oddest sounds that was ever heard in Pleasant
Valley.
Mr. Catbird knew right away that he hadn't caught the trick of mocking
Bobby Bobolink. So he stopped short.
"I wonder what's the matter with me," he murmured. "Can it be that I've
caught a cold and didn't know it?"
He cleared his throat and made ready to attempt Bobby Bobolink's song
once more. But he waited a moment, for he could hear Bobby talking to
his wife.
"Don't be alarmed!" he was saying. "It sounded to me as if somebody had
a frog in his throat."
"I hope you're not mistaken," was Mrs. Bobolink's somewhat doubting
answer.
"I thought I heard him choke a moment ago," Bobby told her. "We'll keep
still until we know where the noise comes from."
Mr. Catbird winced. He was not used to hearing anybody speak of his
singing as "noise." And he made up his mind that he would sing a song
in Bobby Bobolink's best manner. So again he opened his mouth.
He hadn't sung half a dozen notes before Bobby Bobolink's wife gave a
shrill scream.
"Oh, dear!" she cried. "That's a terrible noise. It hurts my ears to
hear it."
Mr. Catbird had stopped when Mrs. Bobolink screamed. A puzzled look came
over his face.
"I don't see what's the matter with me to-day," he said under his
breath. "This is the first time I ever tried to mock anybody and made
such a bungle of it.... Perhaps I'm trying to sing too fast," he added.
"So I'll sing slower next time."
But his slow notes were queerer still. Though he tried to make them
rollicking and merry, he succeeded only in giving a number of doleful
whines.
"That won't do!" he exclaimed. "I declare, I haven't caught the trick
yet." And to his great distress he heard Mrs. Bobolink weeping.
Now, Mr. Catbird had only wanted to have a jolly time with the Bobolink
family. He had intended to sing one of Bobby's songs a few times, until
they were puzzled; and then he had expected to dash out of the bush
where he was hiding and have a good laugh with Mr. and Mrs. Bobolink.
But somehow his plans were turning out all wrong.
"What shall I do?" Mr. Catbird groaned. "Here I've gone and frightened
Bobby Bobolink's wife! Something's the matter with my voice. And I don't
dare to try another song for fear she'll fall into a faint."
Then an idea flashed into his head. "If she knows who's hiding in this
bush Mrs. Bobolink won't be frightened!" And thereupon he mewed almost
exactly like Farmer Green's cat. But the sound was just different enough
for Bobby Bobolink to know at once who made it.
"It's all right!" he told his wife merrily. "Don't worry! Mr. Catbird is
hiding somewhere. He has been teasing us!"
Then Mr. Catbird came out of the bush and apologized like the gentleman
he was.
"I didn't mean to frighten Mrs. Bobolink," he explained. "I was only
trying to mock you. But there's something wrong with my voice. I think
I'll have to go and see Aunt Polly Woodchuck, the herb doctor."
Bobby Bobolink only laughed harder than ever.
"There's nothing the matter with you!" he cried. "There isn't anybody
that can imitate my songs--unless it's one of the Bobolink family. I
sing too fast for you--that's the trouble."
Well, Mr. Catbird looked vastly relieved.
"I'm glad to know that," he said. "And I'll never try to mock you
again."
"I should hope not!" Mrs. Bobolink told him. "For I never heard such a
frightful noise in all my days."