"I'd like to go up again some day," put in Tom. "But not regularly. I'd rather travel in an auto, or behind a fast horse."
"Give me a horse every time," said Songbird. And then he warbled softly:
"To rush along at railroad speed,
In auto, or on wings of air,
Is well enough for some, I think,
To make you jump and make you stare.
But when I journey roundabout,
I'll take a horse, or maybe two,
And then I'll—I'll——"
"And then I won't bust any tires
And walk home feeling pretty blue!"
added Tom. "Say, that's right, Songbird, although you can't burst tires on a flying machine," he added.
"That isn't just the way I was going to finish the verse," said the would-be poet. "But it will do."
On went the boys, deeper and deeper into the woods, chatting gaily and occasionally singing snatches of college songs. Sam kept close to his brother and he was glad to note that Tom was acting quite like his old self.
"What he needs is plenty of fresh air and rest from studying," thought the younger Rover. "Hang it all, it was a mistake for Tom to get down to the grind so soon. He ought to have taken a trip out West, or to Europe, or somewhere."
Presently the students came out on the bank of the stream and there, in the sunshine, they rested on a fallen tree and some rocks. It was pleasant to watch the swiftly-rushing water, as it tumbled over the stones.
"The brook is pretty strong on account of those rains we had," remarked Sam.