The Tale of Bobby Bobolink Part 5

XIII

MR. CATBIRD'S TRICK

In a clump of lilac bushes near Farmer Green's garden Mr. Catbird made his home. He was an odd fellow, very friendly toward everybody in the farmhouse, except the cat, whom he dearly loved to tease. When she pa.s.sed through the garden on her way to the meadow to hunt for mice, Mr. Catbird was quite likely to begin mewing. It always made Miss Kitty furious to be mocked. And sometimes she crept into the bushes herself, hoping to surprise Mr. Catbird and teach him a lesson. But she never caught him.

Now, the cat was not the only one whose calls Mr. Catbird imitated.

Although he liked almost all his bird neighbors and was especially kind and helpful when they were in trouble, nothing pleased him more than to sing their songs. Knowing as they did that he was always ready to feed any nestlings that were left to fend for themselves, and that he was quick to help any of the small feathered folk to fight an enemy, his neighbors did not care how much Mr. Catbird mocked them. It was only his way of having fun; so they didn't mind.

Mr. Catbird was always prankish and full of spirits. And feeling all ready for a lark one morning and not knowing what else to do, he decided to visit the meadow and play a trick on Bobby Bobolink and his wife.

So when the Bobolinks were away from home on a short trip Mr. Catbird flew to their end of the meadow and hid in a bush not far from the spot where they had built their nest on the ground.

From his hiding place Mr. Catbird watched closely. And soon he saw Mrs.

Bobolink, followed shortly by her husband, come skimming across the meadow and settle down in the gra.s.s.

Well, Mr. Catbird was so delighted with the trick he was about to play on them that first he spread his feathers, and then he tucked them close about his slim body, while he bobbed about on the branch where he sat, giving his tail a flirt now and then as if he were so amused that he simply couldn't keep still.

After spending some minutes in that fashion Mr. Catbird peeped out of his bush again and began what he expected would be a perfect imitation of one of Bobby Bobolink's songs. But somehow there seemed to be something wrong. They were very strange notes that he uttered. And the moment she heard them Mrs. Bobolink said aloud to her husband, "What in the world is that queer call? I never heard anything like it in all my days!"

Bobby Bobolink couldn't tell her. And since they had no idea who was lurking near their home nor exactly where he was, they kept quite still, hidden as they were by the tall gra.s.ses.

Mr. Catbird had heard what they said. And he was slightly upset, for he had intended that they should think there was a strange Bobolink in the meadow.

"I'll have to try again," he said to himself. "Next time I'll do better."

XIV

FRIGHTENING MRS. BOBOLINK

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."

XV

HAYING TIME

BY the time the Bobolink youngsters were beginning to learn to fly Mrs. Bobolink noticed something about her husband that caused her some uneasiness. Bobby Bobolink was unusually jolly. And since his wife didn't know of anything to make him feel happier than he had always been, she couldn't help worrying for fear something was troubling him. For Bobby Bobolink almost never let anything dash his high spirits. He often said that there was nothing so uplifting as a rousing song--unless it was a good pair of wings!