Polly and the Princess Part 30

So Polly sang, "Such a li'l' fellow," and "Daisytown Gossip." Then Mrs. Winslow Teed was beguiled into singing the old song of "The Beggar Girl," and if her voice were a bit uncertain, on the whole it was sweet and received well-earned applause.

Games interspersed the music, and it was discovered that the president of June Holiday Home, as well as the eldest of the Home residents, was quite as clever in guesses as the young folks.

Either by chance or intention,--Juanita Sterling could not decide which,--Nelson Randolph appeared to have established himself for the evening at her side. Others came and went, but the president stayed.

"I wonder when we shall hear Caruso," she said. "He is on the programme; I think they must be waiting until the moon is high."

"Caruso?" he repeated with a puzzled look. "Not--"

"No, not the great Caruso," she smiled; "the little Caruso."

"But what has the moon to do with his singing? I am in the dark."

She laughed out. "I don't wonder! I supposed you knew about Caruso. He is a wonderful mocking-bird that belongs to Doodles.

He can--but wait! You will hear him soon, if I'm not mistaken."

Blue was at the window, gazing skyward. He raised the curtain high, and the moonlight streamed in. A large cage was placed on a table in the direct beams. Suddenly the lights were out.

A mellow fluting broke the hush,--and Caruso was in song!

Few of the guests had ever heard his like. He was a score of performers in one. The notes of a dozen birds issued in quick succession from that one little throat, clear, sweet, delicious.

Then, without warning, came the unmistakable squeal of a pig, the squawking of hens, the yelp of a puppy, which in a moment merged into a little carol, and then--Caruso was singing "Annie Laurie"!

The concert reached a sudden end, and the audience came to itself in such applause as none of the other performers had won.

"Are there any more astonishments in store for me?" asked Nelson Randolph, as the clapping dwindled to a few tardy hands. "When the Colonel invited me to come up this evening I did not antic.i.p.ate a concert of this nature. He said they were to have 'a little music,'

but you know what that generally means."

"I know," nodded Miss Sterling smilingly. "I wonder, after such an admission, that you were willing to risk it."

"Oh, I didn't come for the music!" he returned. "Nevertheless, it is worth going more than twenty miles to hear. Polly and Doodles and David would make a good concert by themselves--and now the mocldng-bird! I never heard anything equal to his performance! He is a wonder!"

"He can whistle 'Auld Lang Syne,' too, I think he does it quite as well as 'Annie Laurie.'"

The applause had started again, and the lights, which had been turned on, went out. The audience quieted at once.

Soft and sweet came the tones of a violin.

"Doodles," breathed Miss Sterling.

Nelson Randolph bent his head to hear, and nodded in answer.

Softly the player slipped into "Old Folks at Home," and the tune went on slowly, lingeringly, as if waiting for something that did not come. Again it was played, this time with the voice of Doodles accompanying.

Meanwhile Polly was tiptoeing noiselessly from group to group and from guest to guest, with the soft-breathed word, "No applause, please!"

Over and over sounded the sweet, haunting melody, until not a few of those unfamiliar with the methods of the patient teacher and his singular little pupil, wondered, with Miss Crilly, "what in the world was up."

Then, just as almost everybody's nerves were growing tense, Caruso took up the air and carried it on bewitchingly to its close.

"How can he do it!"--"Wasn't that perfectly beautiful!"--"Did you teach it to him, Doodles?"--"My! but he's a jimdandy, and no mistake!" These and a score of others were tossed about as the lights went up.

"I must have a nearer view of that singer," declared Nelson Randolph. "I'm sure he can't look like an ordinary mocker; he must show the marks of genius in his feathers!"

Miss Sterling laughed. "He is certainly surprising. Doodles told me he was trying to teach him a new song, but I was not prepared for anything like this."

"Who could be!--Come!" he invited. "Let's go over and see him!"

Juanita Sterling unavoidably brushed Miss Crilly on the way across, and smiled pleasantly, to which that middle-aged merrymaker responded with a whispered, "Ain't you swell, a-goin' with the president all the evening!"

Miss Sterling flung back a laughing shake of the head, and pa.s.sed on.

Nelson Randolph scanned the slim gray bird in silence. Then he turned to his companion.

"It doesn't seem possible that this little fellow could do all that!"

Doodles smiled across the cage. He was giving Caruso the tidbit which he had well earned.

"How long does it take you to teach him a song?"

"I've only taught him one, Mr. Randolph. He was several months learning that. He knew 'Annie Laurie' when he came, and Mr.

Gillespie taught him 'Auld Lang Syne.'"

"The bird had finished his little feast and stood nonchalantly preening his feathers.

"Caruso!"

The mocker lifted his head and gave a short whistle. Then he went on with his interrupted toilet.

Nelson Randolph laughed softly.

"Caruso!" began Doodles again. "Caruso!"

The bird looked up and whistled as before.

Doodles bent closer. "Can't you sing 'Auld Lang Syne' for Mr.

Randolph? He has never heard it, you know."

The mocker stretched a wing and let go a mellow strain.

Softly Doodles began to sing,--

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And days of auld lang syne?"

The bird had stood listening, and now caught tip the air with vigor, carrying it on with a surety that was as astonis.h.i.+ng as it was delightful.

Nelson Randolph shook his head in admiration. "Marvelous!" he cried; "marvelous!" He put his hand in his pocket--"I wish you liked pennies!" he laughed.