"What can you do?" the other feathered folk asked Buddy Brown-Thrasher, when he complained about Jasper Jay's rudeness in interrupting his singing. "You don't intend to fight Jasper, do you?"

"I think—" replied Buddy—"I think I can find a better way than that." And that was all he would say.

As usual, Jasper came to Buddy Brown-Thrasher's thicket that evening and screamed his loudest, when Buddy began to sing. Again Buddy's evening-song was spoiled. And even before the noisy Jasper had left, Buddy Brown-Thrasher bep. 74gan to lay his plans for putting a stop to Jasper's unpleasant trick. By the time he fell asleep Buddy knew exactly what he was going to do the next day.

The following morning Buddy Brown-Thrasher was up bright and early—even earlier than was his habit. And for once in his life he did not pause to sing his morning-song from his favorite perch in the tree-top. He did not even wait to have his breakfast, but flew straight to the clump of young pines where—as he knew—Jasper Jay made his home.

It was so early in the morning that a gray light half veiled the mountains; and a white mist hung over the river. The Jay family was just beginning to awaken. And soon Buddy heard Jasper's harsh voice calling to some friend who lived a little distance away.

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Jasper was still somewhat sleepy. Though Buddy Brown-Thrasher could not see him, he could hear Jasper talking to his wife in a low tone, which was quite different from the noisy squawk that people at once thought of at the mere mention of Jasper Jay's name. And soon a few sweet, flute-like notes came floating out from Jasper's tree and fell upon the ears of Buddy Brown-Thrasher, where he lay snugly hidden among the boughs of a young pine.

Buddy was delighted. You see, he was a real music-lover; and seldom had he heard any sound so beautiful as those rare notes of Jasper Jay's.

"Bravo!" Buddy cried, without thinking what he was doing. And in the next instant Jasper Jay thrust a towsled head through the pine-needles that screened his sleeping-place.

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"Who's there?" he shouted in a hoarse and angry voice.

Buddy Brown-Thrasher did not answer. He kept still as a mouse. And waited for some time—hoping to hear Jasper's sweet notes again—but he waited in vain.

But Buddy had heard them once. And since it was for that very purpose that he had gone without both his breakfast and his morning-song, he was satisfied. He went home a little later, feeling well pleased, so far, with his plan for putting an end to Jasper Jay's rudeness.

The first thing that Buddy Brown-Thrasher did then was to seek his favorite perch in the very top of his own special tree and sing a morning-song that was more joyous than ever. That was because he was happier than he had been for a long time—ever since Jasper Jay had been annoying him.

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When he had sung his song fourteen times, Buddy ate a hearty breakfast. Feeling as sprightly as he did, he found his appetite unusually keen. And when at last he had finished his meal he went straight off to make calls upon his friends.

Now, it was no accident that all those upon whom Buddy Brown-Thrasher called that morning belonged to the Pleasant Valley Singing Society. You see, Buddy needed help in order to teach Jasper Jay a lesson. And as soon as his friends heard his plan, they all told him that it was a good one and that they would be glad to do what they could to teach Jasper Jay better manners.

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