“If you are a friend of Peter, then you are a friend of mine.” said little Mrs. Peter very prettily. “Have you seen anybody in this tangle of vines since you arrived? I am sure some friends of mine are here, but I haven't been able to find them.”
“No,” said the stranger, who was, of course, Mistah Mocker the Mockingbird. “I haven't seen any one here, and I don't think there has been any one here but myself.”
“Oh, yes, indeed there has!” cried little Mrs. Peter. “I heard their voices, and I couldn't possibly be mistaken in those, especially the beautiful voice of Veery the Thrush, I—I would like very much to find them.”
Mistah Mocker had the grace to look ashamed of himself when saw how disappointed little Mrs. Peter was. Very softly he began to sing the song of Veery the Thrush.
Little Mrs. Peter looked up quickly. “There it is!” she cried. “There”—she stopped with her mouth gaping wide open. She suddenly realized that it was Mistah Mocker who was singing.
“I—I'm very sorry,” he stammered. “I did it just for a joke and not to make you feel bad. Will you forgive me?”
“Yes,” replied little Mrs. Peter, “if you will come here often at shadow-time and sing to me.” And Mistah Mocker promised that he would.