"Anyhow, he sings as well as ever," Mr. Meadowlark declared.
IV
SINGING FOR SOME ONE
The first few days of early May had passed and with them had flitted—somewhere—most of the jolly company in which Bobby Bobolink had journeyed from the South. But a few of those merrymakers had stayed—as Bobby did—in Farmer Green's meadow. They had made up their minds to spend the summer in Pleasant Valley.
Even old Mr. Crow, who was no lover of music, had to admit that he had never heard such bursts of song during all the summers he had spent in the neighborhood. It seemed as if Bobby Bobolink and[p. 17] his companions were trying their best to out-sing one another, though nobody knew why they should do that.
But at last somebody discovered the reason. That rowdy of the woods, Jasper Jay, spied upon the harum-scarum singers one day, when they were all but bursting themselves in a frenzy of song. And he saw that they were giving what Jasper called "a serenade."
They were singing not for themselves but for a dull, yellowish-brown lady of their own sort, who had not arrived from the South until Bobby and his friends had been frolicking about the meadow almost a week.
She seemed a shy creature—this young person—preferring to stay on the ground during the serenade. But Bobby Bobolink and his companions were bold as brass. Often they alighted on the ground[p. 18] near her, as if they thought she could not hear their songs well enough when they skimmed through the air over the grassy meadow. Amid such a jingling and tinkling of notes it was no wonder that the little lady acted somewhat confused.