The Tale of Bobby Bobolink Tuck-me-In Tales   By: Arthur Scott Bailey (1877-1949)

SLEEPY TIME TALES (Trademark Registered)

THE TALE OF BOBBY BOBOLINK

BY ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

[Illustration]

GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS

COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY GROSSET & DUNLAP

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I SOMEBODY IS EXPECTED 1 II THE LATEST ARRIVAL 6 III GREETINGS 11 IV SINGING FOR SOME ONE 16 V AN INVITATION 21 VI MRS. BOBOLINK CONSENTS 26 VII PASSING THE TEST 31 VIII THE HOUSE IN THE MEADOW 37 IX JOHNNIE GREEN INTRUDES 42 X FOOLING JOHNNIE GREEN 47 XI BOBBY'S NAMES 51 XII MR. CROW IS DISAGREEABLE 55 XIII MR. CATBIRD'S TRICK 60 XIV FRIGHTENING MRS. BOBOLINK 64 XV HAYING TIME 70 XVI MR. FROG IS AMUSED 75 XVII TURNING THE TABLES 81 XVIII TIMOTHY TURTLE'S COMPLAINT 86 XIX BOBBY'S MISTAKE 91 XX A HERMIT'S ADVICE 96 XXI HOW TO TAKE BAD NEWS 101 XXII A NOISY QUARREL 106 XXIII SLEEPY BENJAMIN BAT 111

THE TALE OF BOBBY BOBOLINK

I

SOMEBODY IS EXPECTED

ON May Day the feathered folk in Pleasant Valley began to stop, look and listen. They were expecting somebody.

"Have you seen him?" Rusty Wren asked Jolly Robin.

Jolly Robin said that he hadn't; but he added that he was on the lookout.

"Have you heard his song?" little Mr. Chippy inquired eagerly of Mr. Blackbird.

"No!" that dusky rascal replied. "Not yet! Maybe he isn't coming here this summer." Mr. Blackbird liked to tease little Mr. Chippy. And generally when he tried to, he succeeded.

"Oh! Don't say that!" Mr. Chippy exclaimed. "If I couldn't hear his gay voice I shouldn't care to spend a summer here myself."

Over the meadow, beyond the stone wall where Mr. Chippy made his home in a wild grapevine, Mr. Meadowlark flew to the swampy place where the rushes grew, just to find a Red winged Blackbird that he knew, in order to learn whether he had seen or heard the friend everybody was watching for.

Perched upon a swaying last year's cattail, Mr. Red winged Blackbird shook his head in reply. And he said that no doubt it would be a week before the looked for arrival. "The season's a bit backward," Mr. Red winged Blackbird remarked. "So I don't expect to set eyes on him to day though I have known him to get here as early as May Day."

Mr. Meadowlark confessed that he was disappointed.

"It would be a much gayer May Day," he said, "if his rollicking song rang over the meadow."

"What's the matter with your own singing?" Mr. Red winged Blackbird asked him meaning that in his opinion Mr. Meadowlark had no reason to be ashamed of his own voice.

"My song is not like his," Mr. Meadowlark answered. And he sighed as he spoke. "To be sure, some people are kind enough to say that my singing is unusually sweet. But you know yourself that there isn't a songster anywhere that can carol so joyfully as Bobby Bobolink."

Mr. Red winged Blackbird did not dispute that statement. How could he, when the birds were all waiting so eagerly to hear Bobby Bobolink's voice?

"He has a way" Mr. Meadowlark went on "a way of making almost any summer's day a gay holiday. He is just bubbling over with happiness; and he can't seem to get his notes out fast enough."

"Yes!" Mr. Red winged Blackbird chimed in. "He's a cheerful, happy go lucky chap. And he wears gay clothes, too."