old Crabtree did at Putnam Hall? If they do I'll raise a kick, sure as
eggs are unhatched chickens!"

Tom sat down to study, but he could not fix his mind on his lessons.
Then he heard somebody come along the hallway and turn into the next
room.

"Must be Songbird, or else one of the servants," he thought. "Guess
I'll take a look." If it was Songbird, he could chat with his friend
for a while.

He went to the next room. As he opened the door he saw Songbird, with
his back toward him. The so-styled poet was waving his arms in the air
and declaiming:

"The weeping winds were whispering through the wood,
The rolling rill ran 'round the ragged rock;
The shepherd, with his sunny, smiling face,
Was far away to feed his flitting flock.
Deep in the dingle, dank and dark--"

"I thought I heard an old crow bark!"
finished Tom. "Say, Songbird, how much is that poetry by the yard--or
do you sell it by the ton?" he went on.

At the sound of Tom's voice the would-be poet gave a start. But he
quickly recovered. He scowled for a moment and then took on a look of
resignation.

"You've spoiled one of the best thoughts I ever had," he said.