"I'm afraid," he explained, "my wife may not consent!"

VI

MRS. BOBOLINK CONSENTS

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 hoa.r.s.e. 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 pa.s.s 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.

VII

Pa.s.sING THE TEST

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 n.o.body 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.