Though there were many feathered folk in Pleasant Valley, Jasper Jay did not care to have much to do with any except his own family. Unless he had other business that was more urgent he was always ready to join a troop of noisy blue jays bent on some mischief. But if there were none of his own kind about, Jasper usually preferred to be alone.

Strangely enough, Jasper did not even like to hear other birds singing. He claimed that their voices were altogether too sweet.

"It's sickening to hear their songs," hep. 69 used to say. "Somebody ought to put a stop to these concerts that we have to listen to all summer long." And he was always telling people that what he liked was a good, loud, jarring call, that you could hear without any trouble. "These soft, musical notes are all nonsense!" he declared.

Jasper held it to be his duty, whenever he chanced to come across one of those forest concerts, to seat himself in a nearby tree and make as much noise as he could, in order to interrupt the singing.

Of course, such actions on the part of Jasper Jay did not make the songsters of Pleasant Valley like him any better. But Jasper never minded that.

"I shall keep right on interrupting these singing societies," he said, "until I've put an end to such nuisances."

Naturally, that was only his way of lookp. 70ing at such matters. As for the other birds, they thought that the real nuisance was Jasper Jay.

Now, one of the finest singers in the whole neighborhood was Buddy Brown-Thrasher. Though he belonged to the Pleasant Valley Singing Society, he sang so well that he usually preferred to sing by himself, instead of attending a singing party. Each morning and each evening he would seat himself in the topmost branches of a tree near the thicket where he lived; and there he would sing his favorite song over and over again.

Often other birds some distance away would cease their own music just to enjoy his, for it was very beautiful. If a wooden Indian had roamed through the woods where Buddy Brown-Thrasher was singing, he would have stopped to listen. Nobody could have helped doing that.

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At least, nobody could have helped listening except Jasper Jay. In his opinion, Buddy Brown-Thrasher was the most annoying of all the feathered songsters. He often went out of his way to interrupt Buddy's evening-song. (In the morning Jasper was in too great a hurry for his breakfast to trouble himself in any such fashion.)

Well, it is not surprising that Buddy Brown-Thrasher should be upset by Jasper Jay's provoking visits. It is scarcely pleasant, when you are singing your best notes in a tree-top, to have them suddenly spoiled by a harsh jay, jay, and to be mocked with boisterous laughter. The time came at last when Buddy Brown-Thrasher said he couldn't stand it any longer.

"Something will have to be done!" he declared. So he put on his thinking-capp. 72 at once. Being a gentlemanly sort of person, he never once thought of fighting Jasper Jay. But he felt sure that there must be some way to teach Jasper better manners. He knew, however, that there was no use of trying to reason with the rude fellow. If he had merely talked with Jasper, and asked him if he wouldn't please do differently, Buddy Brown-Thrasher would have received no more than a jeering shout in reply.

Naturally, he hoped for something more satisfactory than that.

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