Meanwhile Polly was tiptoeing noiselessly from group to group and from guest to guest, with the soft-breathed word, “No applause, please!”

Over and over sounded the sweet, haunting melody, until not a few of those unfamiliar with the methods of the patient teacher and his singular little pupil, wondered, with Miss Crilly, “what in the world was up.”

Then, just as almost everybody’s nerves were growing tense, Caruso took up the air and carried it on bewitchingly to its close.

“How can he do it!”—­“Wasn’t that perfectly beautiful!”—­“Did you teach it to him, Doodles?”—­“My! but he’s a jimdandy, and no mistake!” These and a score of others were tossed about as the lights went up.

“I must have a nearer view of that singer,” declared Nelson Randolph.  “I’m sure he can’t look like an ordinary mocker; he must show the marks of genius in his feathers!”

Miss Sterling laughed.  “He is certainly surprising.  Doodles told me he was trying to teach him a new song, but I was not prepared for anything like this.”

“Who could be!—­Come!” he invited.  “Let’s go over and see him!”

Juanita Sterling unavoidably brushed Miss Crilly on the way across, and smiled pleasantly, to which that middle-aged merrymaker responded with a whispered, “Ain’t you swell, a-goin’ with the president all the evening!”

Miss Sterling flung back a laughing shake of the head, and passed on.

Nelson Randolph scanned the slim gray bird in silence.  Then he turned to his companion.

“It doesn’t seem possible that this little fellow could do all that!”

Doodles smiled across the cage.  He was giving Caruso the tidbit which he had well earned.

“How long does it take you to teach him a song?”

“I’ve only taught him one, Mr. Randolph.  He was several months learning that.  He knew ‘Annie Laurie’ when he came, and Mr. Gillespie taught him ‘Auld Lang Syne.’”

“The bird had finished his little feast and stood nonchalantly preening his feathers.

“Caruso!”

The mocker lifted his head and gave a short whistle.  Then he went on with his interrupted toilet.

Nelson Randolph laughed softly.

“Caruso!” began Doodles again.  “Caruso!”

The bird looked up and whistled as before.

Doodles bent closer.  “Can’t you sing ‘Auld Lang Syne’ for Mr.
Randolph?  He has never heard it, you know.”

The mocker stretched a wing and let go a mellow strain.

Softly Doodles began to sing,—­

  “Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
    And never brought to mind? 
  Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
    And days of auld lang syne?”

The bird had stood listening, and now caught tip the air with vigor, carrying it on with a surety that was as astonishing as it was delightful.

Nelson Randolph shook his head in admiration.  “Marvelous!” he cried; “marvelous!” He put his hand in his pocket—­“I wish you liked pennies!” he laughed.