Of olden days,
And then, mayhap,
We'll go our ways.”
“Chug-a-rum! What shall it be about?” demanded Grandfather Frog, waking
up quite good-natured.
“Tell us why Flitter the Bat can fly when none of the other animals
can,” cried one of the Merry Little Breezes.
Grandfather Frog cleared his throat several times, and then he began,
and this is the story he told:
“Once upon a time when the world was young, old Mr. Bat, the many times
great-grandfather of Flitter, whom you all know, lived in a cave on the
edge of the Green Forest. Old Mr. Bat was little, quite as little as
Flitter is now. He didn't have any wings then. No, Sir, old Mr. Bat had
no wings.
“Now old Mr. Bat's teeth were small and not made for cracking hard seeds
and things of that sort, so he lived mostly on insects. He used to hunt
for them under sticks and stones. Sometimes he had hard work to find
enough for a meal, because, you know, so many other Green Forest people
were hunting for them too.
“Now old Mr. Bat's eyes were very small, very, very small indeed, and
the bright sun hurt them. So old Mr. Bat used to stay in his cave all
day and hunt for his meals only after jolly Mr. Sun had gone to bed
behind the Purple Hills. When he did come out most of the crawling bugs
had been caught by others, and it was hard work finding them. So often
Mr. Bat went hungry.
“One evening old Mr. Bat noticed that at twilight a great many bugs fly
about. He sat on a big stone at the mouth of his cave and watched. It
seemed to him that the air was full of bugs. By and by a big fat
fellow came so near that old Mr. Bat forgot where he was and jumped for
him--jumped right off: the top of the big stone. Of course he got a hard
tumble, but he didn't mind it a bit, not a bit, for he had caught the
bug. After that, old Mr. Bat used to spend most of the time he was awake
jumping for flying bugs.
“One night he made a very long jump from a _very_ high stone and got
such a fall that all the breath was knocked out of his funny little
body. When he had gotten his breath back he discovered that some one was
looking down and smiling at him. It was Old Mother Nature.
“'Pretty hard work to get a dinner that way, isn't it, Mr. Bat?' asked
Old Mother Nature.
“Mr. Bat allowed that it was.
“'How would you like to fly!' asked Old Mother Nature.
“Mr. Bat thought that that would be very fine indeed, but that was quite
out of the question because, as you know, he hadn't any wings.
“Old Mother Nature said no more, but something seemed to be pleasing her
greatly as she left Mr. Bat.
“The next evening when old Mr. Bat awoke, he really didn't know whether
he was himself or not. No, Sir, he didn't. His legs were much longer
than they used to be and really of no use at all for walking. Between
them was a queer thin skin. He couldn't run. He couldn't even crawl very
well.
“At last, after much work, he managed to get to the top of a big rock.
He was very hungry, and when a big, fat bug came along, he forgot all
about his troubles and tried to jump. But instead of jumping as he
always had, he just tumbled off the big rock. As he fell he spread out
his legs. What do you think happened? Why, old Mr. Bat found that he
could fly!
“And ever since that long-ago time the Bats have lived in dark caves and
have been able to fly,” concluded Grandfather Frog.
“Splendid!” cried the Merry Little Breezes. “And we thank you ever and
ever so much!” Then they had a race to see who could be the first to
blow a foolish green fly over to Grandfather Frog.