“What do bears want?” asked Squeaky.
“To make trouble, I guess,” said Snythergen.
During the building of the house Snythergen had been so busy he had not even noticed Squeaky’s little friend. Now the finch wished to join in the conversation, for his teacher had just given him permission to speak out loud. He wanted to celebrate his first spoken words by saying them at the top of his voice, so pushing his little bill into Snythergen’s ear, he screamed:
“Bears don’t want to make trouble, they want food!”
Snythergen jumped as if a bee had stung him.
“What was that!” cried he, looking around and seeing nothing. For again the finch had hopped behind a leaf.
“It’s my good friend, the goldfinch,” said Squeaky. “I want you to meet him. I have been teaching him to talk, and you heard the first words he has spoken out loud. Don’t you think he did them rather well?” he asked, proud of his pupil.
“If loudness is an indication I should say he did, most decidedly,” said Snythergen, whose ears were still ringing. “If he keeps on improving they can hear him in the next county!”
“Come,” said Squeaky, looking around for the finch, “I want you to meet him.” At Squeaky’s request, the finch came out of his hiding place and was presented.
“If it isn’t the little goldfinch!” exclaimed Snythergen in surprise, and he burst out laughing.