dn't sing such rollicking songs
in the meadow. And now that you've mentioned how he spends his springs
in the South, I don't wonder that he appears glad to get to Pleasant
Valley. For you may well believe that folks are not so fond of him down
there where the rice grows. And unless I'm much mistaken the planters
actually order him out of their fields."

Mr. Red-winged Blackbird told Mr. Crow that he hadn't a doubt that
everything Mr. Crow said was so. And he was just about to remark that
he should think Mr. Crow must lead a care-free, happy-go-lucky life in
winter, in the South, because Farmer Green always stayed in Pleasant
Valley the whole year round. But as he opened his bill to speak he heard
a sound over in the meadow that made him forget what was on the tip of
his tongue.

"Did you hear that song?" he cried. "Hurrah!"

Old Mr. Crow cocked his head on one side and listened. "Yes!" he
agreed. "There's no doubt about it. Bobby Bobolink is here at last!"

III

GREETINGS

AS fast as they could fly, old Mr. Crow and Mr. Red-winged Blackbird
hurried over to the meadow, where they had heard Bobby Bobolink's
bubbling notes.

They found him enjoying himself with a lively company of careless
bachelors--all distant cousins of Bobby Bobolink--who had travelled
with him in a roistering flock all the way from the South.

They were all wonderful singers--those happy Bobolinks. They could
scarcely have kept still if they had wanted to. But somehow Bobby
Bobolink seemed to be just a bit the best singer of the lot.

Perched on a fence-post, Mr. Meadowlark was drinking in Bobby's merry
songs. Jolly Robin had stolen away from the orchard to greet the
newcomer and listen to his first concert. And even Rusty Wren had
forsaken the cherry tree beside the farmhouse. Although Rusty and his
wife were in the midst of putting their summer house to rights, he had
not been able to resist telling Mrs. Wren, who did not like to have him
away from home, that he must make a short visit in the meadow, "to see a
friend."

Mr. Red-winged Blackbird called "Conk-err-ee!" several times to Bobby
Bobolink, meaning that he was glad Bobby was back in Pleasant Valley and
that he hoped he was in good health, and that Bobby certainly hadn't
forgotten how to sing.

As for old Mr. Crow, he winked at Bobby Bobolink and said in a hoarse
voice, "I hear they're planting rice down South."

Bobby Bobolink was not like Mr. Crow, who would have flo