beautiful songs were coming from such a deep beak.
But the tuneful trills and twips came from other birds. From other beaks. Not from Wise Guy. Wise Guy was a bird without a song.
"More flare! More flourish!" Mr. Bell spurred the chorus on. He flapped his arms about.
The chorus of birds flipped and flapped their wings. 
They fluttered their feathers. Fans of red. Of blue. Of gold.
Wise Guy kept his wings to himself. His feathers were gray. Gray all over. He didn't have even the tiniest speck of red. Of blue. Of gold.
"Oouuu, aren't we having fun," said Mr. Bell. Wise Guy was not having fun.
"Now comes the slithery snake dance!" announced Mr. Bell. Slither, Slide and Shake slipped onto stage. What a snakey, shakey dance they gave! Slither slithered and swithered. Slide glided and slided. Shake shook, shook, shook his tail to a rattle, tattle beat.
"Oouuu, aren't they great," Carrot Head said to Wise Guy. "WHOOOOO?" said Wise Guy. So Carrot Head knew Wise Guy was not in a good mood. Carrot Head was Wise Guy's good friend.
"Don't pay any attention to those flighty birds," Carrot Head told Wise Guy. Carrot Head wasn't in the chorus. She was singing solo. She was a bird of much talent. Of many songs.
"It's not the birds," said Wise Guy. "It's the snakes-in-the-grass." He glanced at Slither, Shake and Slide.
"What did they say?" said Carrot Head.
