“The next number on this programme will be a novelty, an imitation of various bird calls and songs, given by Mr. Larry Bartlett.”
The sonorous voice of the announcer ceased, and the little group in Dr. Dale’s house waited expectantly for the first notes of their friend’s performance.
“Hooray!” shouted Jimmy, as the first notes of the mocking bird’s song floated clear and true from the horn. “Hooray for Larry, the champion whistler of the universe!”
The others laughed at his enthusiasm, but they were almost as excited themselves. When at last their friend concluded his performance with a trill and a flourish, they all gave the three cheers that Jimmy had suggested, and wished they had a sending set so that they could congratulate Larry on the spot. 149
“That surely sounded well,” said Dr. Dale, when their delight had somewhat subsided. “This may be the beginning of big things for Larry, because it will not take him long to become known when he has an audience of somewhere around a half a million people every evening.”
“That’s true enough,” said Frank Brandon. “But it seems hard to realize that science has really made such a thing possible.”
“I’m ready to believe that nothing is impossible these days,” said Dr. Dale. “If I read in the paper some day that we had got into wireless communication with Mars, I should believe it easily enough. In fact, I’d hardly feel surprised.”
“I’m sure I shouldn’t,” agreed the radio expert. “A person has to have a receptive mind to keep up with these quick-moving times.”
“You’re right,” agreed Dr. Dale. “But now, as we’ve heard Larry and feel reasonably sure that his performance has been a success, I propose that we go back and have our dessert. Does that meet with your approval, Jimmy?”
“Does it!” exclaimed Jimmy. “I should say so. I never feel as though I’d really had anything much to eat unless I have dessert to top off with.”