Well, Ducky Waddles hadn't gone very far before Mrs. Oriole, who had a nest like a long white stocking on a branch of the weeping willow tree, began to sing:
"Swing high, swing low,
Swing to and fro
From the branch of the willow tree.
But whenever I look
In the Bubbling Brook
Another bird looks at me."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Professor Jim Crow, who happened to come by just then. "What sort of a bird lives in the Bubbling Brook?"
"Well, I can tell you one thing," said Mrs. Oriole, "she doesn't keep her feathers well combed."
And then you should have heard that wise old blackbird laugh.
"Well, when you look in the Bubbling Brook again," he said, "comb your feathers, Mrs. Oriole, and perhaps that other bird will do the same."
And would you believe it, that's just what happened? But how Professor Jim Crow knew it I'm sure I don't know, unless his wife had a vanity bag with a little mirror in it, as all the ladies do nowadays who don't vote, I'm told.