School was to re-open on Thursday, and the Blue Birds had but one day more of vacation in which to meet and plan for the Winter Nest. Of course, they could meet after school, or Saturdays, but it seemed more like a meeting to be able to have the whole day for planning.

By nine o’clock on Wednesday, therefore, they gathered in their Nest while Mrs. Talmage entertained Aunt Selina on the veranda with past doings of the children.

Mr. Talmage had to go to the city, and he said that Uncle Ben might come back with him for a few days’ visit. Uncle Ben was his only brother, the one who had given Ned the printing outfit for a Christmas gift.

Ruth told the Blue Birds all about Happy Hills and Aunt Selina’s plan for the city children.

“Now, how shall we manage to find the children that will need the country next summer?” asked Ruth.“Did your aunt say who would look after so many children?” asked Norma.

“No, that is one of the things we shall have to talk over. We only got as far as deciding that the farm was great!” said Ruth.

“Indeed, it is a fine offer,” said several little girls.

“I think we will have to get the opinion of the grown-ups about the whole plan,” ventured Betty.

“Mrs. Talmage and Miss Selina are on the porch now—let’s run over and ask them what they have thought of,” suggested Edith.

As the others were of the same mind the Nest was deserted. Upon reaching the veranda, the Blue Birds were pleased to see that Mrs. Catlin was sitting there with the other ladies. As Mrs. Catlin was a powerful ally, she was always welcome when planning was to be done.

While the group on the piazza was deeply concerned talking over winter work and next summer’s plans, Ned came out of the house and went down the woodland path toward the Starrs’ home.

Meredith Starr and his chum, Jinks, were under an old apple-tree in the garden orchard, and Ned joined them.

“Aunt Selina’s at the house, and what do you think?”

Meredith and Jinks shook their heads and Ned continued solemnly, “She’s given Happy Hills to the Blue Birds for their poor children next summer.”

“She has! My goodness, but they will have more than they can look after if they ever accepted such a place,” cried Jinks.

“Oh, they accepted it, all right! They’re just crazy about it. But the grown-ups will have to help it along. I suppose they’ll have to have so much printing done that we’ll be out of it after this winter,” complained Ned.

“If you think that why can’t we have some organization of our own?” asked Meredith.

“Yes! why wait to be invited out of the way by the Blue Birds? Get some club of our own going, and surprise them if they find us in the way,” added Jinks.

“Oh, it takes a grown-up to help along such things?” objected Ned. “Why, where do you suppose these girls would have been if it hadn’t been for mother’s ideas and help?”

“I guess you’re right,” admitted the other boys, rolling over in the grass again, whence they had popped up their heads at Meredith’s suggestion.

After a few moments’ silence, however, Meredith sat up again and said tenaciously: “I don’t see why we can’t! Daddum would help us with his advice and your father, too, Ned. Jinks hasn’t any grown-ups, but he can get some of the fathers of the Blue Birds interested in us.”

“What could we do, or where would we start?” asked Ned.

“Well, first of all, don’t let’s call it ‘The Owls!’ That name may be all right for the editor of a paper, but I don’t like it for a club,” complained Meredith.

“We need a name that will sound so respectable that every mother will consent to having her boy join us,” said Ned.

“We might call it ‘Junior Boy Scouts,’” suggested Jinks.

“Then everyone’ll expect us to do just as the Boy Scouts do, and the fact is we won’t! We will have a sort of club for boys under twelve for the purpose of having a nice time, and helping them with their work or suggesting plans for outdoor sports,” said Ned.

“If we could think of some name that would appeal to the mothers who are so interested in the Blue Birds!” said Jinks.

After many names had been laughed down, Meredith said, “Why not call ourselves ‘The B.B. Club.’ Everyone likes a secret society and the mothers can believe we are so fond of the Blue Birds that we wanted to keep their name for ourselves.”

“Oh, but they will think we had to steal their name for want of finding one for ourselves,” scorned Ned.

“Well, if you can find anything better, tell it!” exclaimed Meredith, vexed at his friend’s laughter.

Just then, Jim, the handy man about Oakwood, joined the boys. He saw some signs of trouble and asked what they were doing.

Ned explained about Miss Selina and the Blue Birds, and his plan for the younger boys. Jim pondered for a few moments and then muttered, “Is there any bird you know that goes by those same initials—‘B.B.’?”

Ned thought rapidly for a few minutes, then said, “Blue Jay, no, not that—Black Bird!”

“Bull Finch!” replied Jinks, laughing.

“Neither! What bird whistles like this?” and Jim imitated so naturally the notes of the Bobolink that the boys knew.

“Ho! Bobolink, eh?” shouted Ned, slapping Jim on the back.

“Where would the ‘B.B.’ come in on that?” asked Jinks.

“Would you divide it like ‘Bo-Bolink’?” asked Meredith.

“Sure not! Just plain ‘Bobolink Boys’ to offset the Blue Bird Girls,” answered Jim, as he rose to go on toward the barns.

“Hurrah, Jim! I think you’re a life-saver,” cried Ned.

“Three cheers for the god-father of the Bobolink Boys!” shouted Jinks, while the others cheered Jim.

“There’s Don and another little chap—try the name on them and see what they say,” suggested Jim, pointing toward the front driveway where two boys of about ten years could be seen.

“That’s right. We’ll see what they think of it all,” returned Meredith, rising to whistle through his fingers to attract the boys’ attention.

Immediately upon hearing the shrill call from his brother, Don turned in the direction of the apple orchard. As the two lads ran up, Ned constituted himself chief counsel.

“Don, how old are you?” was the first question.

“Nine, goin’ on ten. Why?” answered Don.

“How old is your friend?” was the next question.

“I’m ten next month,” replied the little fellow.

“What’s your name?” asked Ned.

“Tuck. That is what everyone calls me, but the name they gave me when I was too little to know better, was awful—it’s Reuben Wales. Just because my great grandfather had it, they made me take it, too.” And poor little Tuck felt very much abused.

“Never mind, Tuck,” laughed Ned, while the other boys rolled over in the grass to smother their laughter.“I don’t most of the time, but when someone has to know the real end of my name, I feel dreadful about it.”

“Well, Tuck, we are planning a club for you boys and you can choose a new name if you join,” consoled Jinks.

“What’s the game, Jinks?” asked Don, eagerly.

“We hope to form an organization for boys under twelve to be known as Bobolink Boys,” explained Meredith.

“What for—to build nests and then sew doll clothes, or make paper furniture?” growled Don, who had been greatly offended to think that his twin sister Dot would leave him for the Blue Birds.

The older boys who understood his attitude and its cause, laughed, but Meredith explained more fully.

“Just for the sake of having fine times and getting something going for the boys so the girls won’t run the whole town. If we start a movement called Bobolinks we can demand help from the grown-ups just as the girls have done. We can manage to do something as big as the Blue Birds ever did, besides having our outings and games at a club-room.”

“That sounds fine,” ventured Tuck.

“Fine! Why, there’s my hand on it, Mete!” declared Don, as he thrust a grimy little hand under his brother’s nose.

Ned and Jinks laughed as Meredith looked doubtfully at Don’s hand before accepting it as a pledge.

“What’ll we do first?” asked Don, eager to begin.

“Tuck and you must ask as many nice boys as you know if they would like to join a club, and tell them what for,” replied Ned.

“How many can we ask?” questioned Tuck.

“Oh, about thirty, I guess. I can take charge of one Nest, Jinks of another, and Mete of another,” said Ned.

“All right, we’re in for it,” cried Don.

“We’ll report to-morrow afternoon—where?” asked Tuck.

“Better say at Jim’s cottage—up by the barn.”

The two younger boys ran away to seek members and the other boys looked at each other.

“Quick work, eh? We’re in for it now, so we’d better get some plans going,” laughed Meredith.

“We’d better go to your room and figure things out on paper,” advised Ned.

So the three boys who started the Bobolink Boys went to the house and locked themselves in Meredith’s den to make plans for the organization.

In the meantime, the Blue Birds had joined the ladies on the Talmage veranda and their conversation turned to the work to be done that winter.

“I wonder where Ned went,” said Mrs. Talmage as Ruth drew a low stool to her mother’s side.

“He went over to my house to see Mete,” replied Dot Starr. “Shall I go and bring him back?”

“Oh, no, it can wait. I just wanted him to hear some of our plans so he could print it in the next paper,” said Mrs. Talmage. Then she turned to the others.

“You see, Blue Birds, since Aunt Selina joined our ranks and proffered Happy Hills for next summer’s use, it gives us an entirely new incentive for work. We had rather expected to take matters easy this winter, for school does not leave much time for other work. But we have afternoons and Saturdays.”

“And Wednesdays, too, Mrs. Talmage! We all get out at two o’clock Wednesdays, you know,” added Norma.

“If I could skip music that day, I could have a long afternoon with you,” said May, hopefully.

“Well, if anyone who has studies at home for Wednesdays, could arrange to attend to them at another time, we could have every Wednesday afternoon for a regular meeting, too,” admitted Mrs. Talmage.

Miss Selina was so interested in the children that she smiled when they did, and puckered her brow into a frown when they did. Mrs. Catlin amused herself watching the old lady and almost rocked off the steps in her enjoyment.

“One thing we must discuss to-day is a suitable nest for winter. We cannot occupy the one in the cherry tree much longer, for it is growing windy and cool. Then, too, there must be some home-work planned for each one to report at our meetings,” said Mrs. Talmage.

“Won’t there be any benefits or bazaars?” asked Ruth, who had visions of fun in the school-house assembly room.

“We will have to earn money in some manner to help the poor children, but that will have to be discussed later,” replied Mrs. Talmage.

After an hour’s discussion, Mrs. Catlin left with the parting injunction, “Call upon me for anything—I will be on hand.”

Late in the afternoon Mr. Talmage returned with his brother who was the editor of a prominent magazine in New York. The Blue Birds had gone, and Ruth welcomed her uncle whose visits were always a source of pleasure to Ned and herself.

He sat down on the steps beside her and listened to her story of the wonderful work Ned’s printing press had done that summer, and of the work required of it for the coming summer. Uncle Ben smiled as he listened.

“Ned will be walking in my footsteps soon, won’t he?” said Uncle Ben, as Ruth concluded.

Before Ruth could reply her mother came out to welcome the visitor and tell him of Aunt Selina’s presence.

“Aunt Selina! You don’t say so! Why, I haven’t seen her since my graduation from college,” remarked Uncle Ben, in pleased surprise.

“She is in her room dressing for dinner,” said Mrs. Talmage. “You will find a great change working in her. Why, just think of her offer of Happy Hills for the poor children next summer.” And she proceeded to tell the story of Aunt Selina’s desire to help the Blue Bird work.

“Now that Uncle Ben is here, maybe he can help us plan some way to earn the money for next summer,” suggested Ruth.

“I believe you can! What we need is to find some way of reaching the right children, and then to start some work that will bring us in a regular income during the winter, for it will take a heap of money to run a large place like Happy Hills with several hundred starved little children living there,” admitted Mrs. Talmage.

“As a man who is so mixed up in publishing, you would naturally expect me to know some way out of your troubles, eh?” laughed Uncle Ben. “Well, well, let me think it out.”

At that moment the dinner bell rang and no further opportunity was given for discussing ways and means.So absorbing was the theme, however, that talk soon drifted around to the subject of farms, work and plans.

“You can get a list of names of poor children at the Bureau of Charity,” said Uncle Ben.

“That only records names of families who will apply for assistance; but the ones like the Ferris family, never are heard from in this way. Those are the children we want,” said Mrs. Talmage.

“When I return to the city I will see if there is any way of getting a list like you want. As for institutions—you can find all of the asylums and homes in the New York Directory. From them you can select numbers of crippled or sick children,” suggested Uncle Ben.

“Ben, do you believe circulars are a good means of letting people know what you want?” asked Mrs. Talmage.

“I can’t say that I do. In my experience I have found that a circular letter meets the same end as an undesirable advertisement. Most of them are thrown into the waste basket.”

“We need philanthropic women to help us next summer. Mrs. Starr offered me her woods at Oakwood if her family goes to Maine, and Mrs. Catlin wishes to rent the Mason farm for children. So now, with Happy Hills on our list, we will need just the right kind who will love the work with us,” said Mrs. Talmage.

“Better send someone to visit the women you hear about,” advised Mr. Talmage.

“But I need to find the women first,” returned Mrs. Talmage, plaintively.

“What’s the matter with the Chirp? Can’t we print a story in that and mail it to a list of folks in New York?” asked Ned.

“That sounds good to me! I should say the Chirp would do the work better than a letter or circular,” said Uncle Ben.

“Yes, it does seem like a fine suggestion,” admitted Mrs. Talmage. “We will talk it over this evening, Ned.”

“Why, when the Chirp comes to my office,” said Uncle Ben, “I generally drop all of my important work until I see what new scheme the children have worked up. I sit back and enjoy every word there.”

“Maybe that is because your nephew edits it—sort of family pride in one who is following in your footsteps,” teased Mr. Talmage.“Not a bit of it! It is because the lad is original enough to fill a gap, and persistent enough to keep a good thing going. I haven’t the least idea but that the Blue Birds would never have been heard of outside of their little Nest if it hadn’t been for Ned and his Chirp,” commended Uncle Ben.

“We are all certain of that,” assented Mrs. Talmage.

“And we are very grateful to Ned for all he has done to help us along,” added Ruth, smiling at her proud brother.

“Mother, you said you wanted to speak to Uncle Ben after dinner, but may I have him alone for a few moments before you get hold of him?” asked Ned, in a worried manner, as if Uncle Ben would be used up if the ladies talked to him first.

Everyone laughed, and Mrs. Talmage said, “Why, certainly, Son, if Uncle Ben is courageous enough to trust himself to your hands.”

“I’m shaking in my boots already,” said Uncle Ben, “for I’m sure some dark plot will be uncovered.”

“Just wait and see!” laughed Ned, as he excused himself and ran to his den.As the rest of the family rose to leave the table, Uncle Ben said in an aside to Mr. Talmage, “I believe that this farm idea will require a regular organization to take proper charge of its affairs. Just a few ladies and children cannot handle so important a task.”

“I think you are right, Ben,” said Mr. Talmage.

Ned was waiting for his uncle as he came down the hall, and catching hold of his hand, dragged him into his sanctum where the Chirp was printed each week.

Uncle Ben sat down in the one arm-chair and waited while Ned locked the door and pulled down every window shade.

“This is a great secret, you know,” explained Ned.