“Oh!” gasped Peter. “Oh, Mocker, how under the sun do you do it? I was sure that it was Glory whom I heard whistling. Never again will I be able to believe my own ears.”
Mocker chuckled. “You're not the only one I've fooled, Peter,” said he. “I flatter myself that I can fool almost anybody if I set out to. It's lots of fun. I may not be much to look at, but when it comes to singing there's no one I envy.
“I think you are very nice looking indeed,” replied Peter politely. “I've just been finding out this morning that you can't tell much about folks just by their looks.”
“And now you've learned that you can't always recognize folks by their voices, haven't you?” chuckled Mocker.
“Yes,” replied Peter. “Hereafter I shall never be sure about any feathered folks unless I can both see and hear them. Won't you sing for me again, Mocker?”
Mocker did. He sang and sang, for he clearly loves to sing. When he finished Peter had another question ready. “Somebody told me once that down in the South you are the best loved of all the birds. Is that so?”
“That's not for me to say,” replied Mocker modestly. “But I can tell you this, Peter, they do think a lot of me down there. There are many birds down there who are very beautifully dressed, birds who don't come up here at all. But not one of them is loved as I am, and it is all on account of my voice. I would rather have a beautiful voice than a fine coat.”
Peter nodded as if he quite agreed, which, when you think of it, is rather funny, for Peter has neither a fine coat nor a fine voice. A glint of mischief sparkled in Mocker's eyes. “There's Mrs. Goldy the Oriole over there,” said he. “Watch me fool her.”
He began to call in exact imitation of Goldy's voice when he is anxious about something. At once Mrs. Goldy came hurrying over to find out what the trouble was. When she discovered Mocker she lost her temper and scolded him roundly; then she flew away a perfect picture of indignation. Mocker and Peter laughed, for they thought it a good joke.
Suddenly Peter remembered what Jenny Wren had told him. “Was Jenny Wren telling you the truth when she said that you are a second cousin of hers?” he asked.