"Don't you want to go up, Songbird?" asked Tom, one afternoon, after college hours.
"I--er--I don't think so," answered the student-poet, gravely.
"Rather make up verses about flying than fly, eh?"
"What have you made up about airships, anything really fine, Songbird?"
"Well, I've written a few little verses, Tom. Would you like to hear them?"
"Sure!" cried the fun-loving Rover, and then Songbird commenced to recite:
"I spread my wings on the balmy air, And float and float I know not where. I rise, I fall, I fall, I rise, For I am monarch of the skies!"
"Bang up, Songbird! Couldn't be better!" cried Tom. "Give us another dip, like the small boy said of the ice-cream." And the would-be poet continued:
"I rush along when skies are blue, And when it hails I sail right through! I feel----"
"Hold on, Songbird! You've got to change that line. We didn't sail right through when it hailed--we came down just as quickly as we could."
"Oh, that's only a figure of speech," answered the would-be poet loftily, and then he continued:
"I feel I can sail anywhere, For I am monarch of the air!"
"Good for you!" put in Sam, who was present. "For A, No. 1, first-grade poetry apply to Songbird every time."
"There are sixteen verses in all," went on the poet, eagerly. "The next one begins----"
"Sorry, there goes the supper bell!" interrupted Tom. "Come on, we've got to eat, even if we miss the finest poem in the universe."
"I--er--I didn't hear any bell," answered Songbird.
"You didn't?" cried Tom, innocently. "Well! well! Come on in and see anyway!" And he dragged the would-be poet along and forced him into a crowd of students. "Guess I was mistaken," he said soberly. "Too bad!" And off he, ran, and Sam ran after him.
"Well, it wasn't half bad," said the youngest Rover.
"That's true, Sam," returned Tom, and then he added with a sudden broad grin: "But how about an egg that was only half bad--would you want to eat it? Some day Songbird may write real poetry--but not yet."
It was now ideal football weather and the football elevens, the regular and the scrub, were out daily for practice. Dick and Tom had been asked to play but both had declined, for they wished to pay attention to their studies, and the biplane took up all their spare time. Sam played a little on the scrub, but soon gave it up.