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Tale of Bobby Bobolink

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<h2>VI</h2><h3>MRS. BOBOLINK CONSENTS</h3> It had never occurred to Mr. Meadowlark that Bobby Bobolink's wife might object to her husband's joining the Singing Society. But Bobby seemed doubtful. "I'll have to ask her," he said. "You see, we're just about to build ourselves a house. And she may think I ought not to belong to any societies at present." Just then little, yellowish-brown Mrs. Bobolink came skimming over the meadow and dropped down beside them. "Would you mind, my love, if I joined the Pleasant Valley Singing Society?" Bobby asked her. "Perhaps you'd like to become a member yourself," Mr. Meadowlark suggested nervously. But Mrs. Bobolink hastened to say that she wasn't musical. "Of course I enjoy hearing songs," she told him; "but I'm not much of a singer myself." "Your husband is one of the best," Mr. Meadowlark told her hopefully. "Yes!" she replied. "And sometimes I think he spends almost too much of his time practicing." "Oh, I can sing and work at the same time," Bobby Bobolink declared. "When we begin work on our new house I shall be singing most of the time." "How often does your Society meet?" Mrs. Bobolink asked Mr. Meadowlark. "We have a little sing almost every fine day," he informed her. "But your husband needn't come to every meeting—if he's too busy. And if necessary he can leave before our sings are finished—except when he takes the test." "The test!" Mrs. Bobolink echoed. "What's that?" Mr. Meadowlark explained that before becoming a member everybody had to sing before the Society. "Those that don't sing well enough don't get in," he added. "For instance, there's old Mr. Crow. His voice is too hoarse. So he doesn't belong to the Society." Well, the moment she heard that, Mrs. Bobolink made up her mind at once. "My husband can pass any singing test that you can give him!" she exclaimed. "The idea of mentioning him and Mr. Crow in the same breath!" "Pardon me!" Mr. Meadowlark said hastily. "I took several breaths just before I spoke about Mr. Crow." He hoped that he hadn't offended Bobby Bobolink's wife. She wasn't really angry. But she was proud of her husband's voice. And she wanted Mr. Meadowlark to know it. "I wouldn't think of such a thing as not letting Bobby join your Society," she declared. "And as soon as we've finished our new house he can go to every meeting you have, and stay till the end, too." All this time Bobby Bobolink had been listening anxiously. And when he heard his wife's last remark he was so overjoyed that he sprang into the air and began to sing the happiest song he knew, while he darted back and forth above the heads of his wife and their caller. "Just listen to him!" Mrs. Bobolink cried, with an air of pride. "Can you beat that?" Mr. Meadowlark made a modest reply. He said that in his opinion Bobby Bobolink was the finest singer that had ever come to Pleasant Valley. And Mrs. Bobolink was so pleased that she confessed she hoped her husband could take his test just as soon as possible. "He shall take it to-morrow!" Mr. Meadowlark promised. <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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