The Adventures of Mr. Mocker

BOBBY COON AND OL’ MISTAH BUZZARD HAVE A TALK

Bobby Coon had spent the largest part of the forenoon sitting at the foot of the tall dead tree on which Ol’ Mistah Buzzard likes to roost.  All the time Ol’ Mistah Buzzard had been sailing ’round and ’round in circles way up in the blue, blue sky, sometimes so high that to Bobby he looked like just a tiny speck.  Bobby had watched him until his own neck ached.  Mistah Buzzard hardly ever moved his wings.  He just sailed and sailed and sailed up and down and ’round and ’round, just as if it was no work at all but pure fun, as indeed it was.

Bobby Coon had waited so long that it was almost more than he could do to be patient any longer, but if you really want a thing, it is worth waiting for, and so Bobby gave a great sigh and tried to make himself more comfortable.  At last Mistah Buzzard came sailing down straight for the tall dead tree.  With two or three flaps of his great wings he settled down on his favorite perch and looked down at Bobby Coon.

“Good mo’ning, Brer Coon,” said Ol’ Mistah Buzzard.

“Good morning, Mistah Buzzard; I hope you are feeling very well this morning,” replied Bobby Coon as politely as he knew how.

“Fair to middling well,” said Ol’ Mistah Buzzard, with a twinkle in his eyes.  “What can Ah do fo’ yo’all?”

“If you please, Mistah Buzzard, you can tell me if there is anybody way down South where you come from who can make his voice sound just like the voices of other people.  Is there?” Bobby was using his very politest manner.

“Cert’nly!  Cert’nly!” chuckled Ol’ Mistah Buzzard.  “It’s Mistah Mockah the Mocking-bird.  Why, that bird just likes to go around making trouble; he just naturally likes to.  He just goes around mocking everything and everybody he hears, until sometimes it seems like yo’ couldn’t be sure of yo’ own voice when yo’ hear it.  Why do yo’ ask, Brer Coon?”

“Because he is right here in the Green Forest now,” replied Bobby Coon.

“What’s that yo’ am a-saying, Brer Coon?  What’s that?” cried Ol’ Mistah Buzzard, growing very excited.

Then Bobby Coon told Ol’ Mistah Buzzard all about the trouble on the Green Meadows and in the Green Forest; how Sammy Jay had moved away to the Old Pasture so that no one could say that he screamed in the night, and yet how his voice was still heard; how Sticky-toes the Tree Toad was almost crazy because his neighbors said he was noisy, when all the time he was sitting with his mouth tight closed; and finally, how all the little meadow and forest people refused to speak to one another because of the many unkind things which had been overheard.  And Bobby told what he had overheard the night before when Unc’ Billy Possum and a stranger had sat on the very log in which Bobby had been taking, a nap.  Ol’ Mistah Buzzard chuckled.

“Yo’ might have known Unc’ Billy was behind all that trouble,” said he.  “Yes, Sah, yo’ might have known that ol’ rascal was behind it.  When Unc’ Billy Possum and Mockah get their haids together, there sho’ly is gwine to be something doing.”