THE Crimson Crab was to be married to the Eldest Frog. The wedding
guests were assembled on the great water-lily leaf, in their best
dresses and best spirits. There were lizards and water-beetles,
dragon-flies and butterflies,—in fact, all the best people of the
neighbourhood. The musicians, young frogs of remarkable talent, were
stationed with their instruments in the pink buds of the lily; in the
largest blossom the bride was completing her toilet. But she wept as
she polished her shining claws, and her feelers shook with grief; for
she did not wish to marry the Eldest Frog. He was gray and grizzly, had
no voice save a dismal croak, and was known to have an odious temper.
The Crimson Crab thought of the gallant young Green Frog, whom she
had met at the Pollywogs’ Ball. How handsome he was! She had danced
nearly every dance with him, and he had pressed her claw tenderly,
and whispered sweet words in her ear. Then, the next evening, he came
and sang beneath her window; ah, how he sang! When the song was over
he leaped lightly upon the window-sill, poured out his tale of love,
and gained her promise to be his bride. Ah, moment of rapture! She
thrilled even now with the recollection of it. But he vanished, and—she
had never seen him since. She was told that he had disappeared, had
probably gone to the Muskrat War, and been killed in battle.
Alone she sat and wept, till her stern father came and told her that
she was to be the bride of the Eldest Frog. Vain were her tears, vain
her entreaties. Preparations for the wedding were at once begun, the
fine clothes were ordered, and now the fatal day was come.
“Alas!” cried the Crimson Crab, “why am I beautiful? Why does this
lovely carmine mantle in my shining shell? If I were a plain green crab
the Eldest Frog would not have sought me out, and I might still sit in
my lonely bower and weep for my lost love.”
At this moment her father’s summons came, and she was forced to dry her
tears.
“Console yourself, noble Lady!” cried her faithful Attendant Lizard.
“See the beautiful gifts your bridegroom has sent you. A girdle of
pearls! a mantle of glittering fish-scales! webs of gossamer, the
finest that ever were seen! Never was bride so richly decked. So
generous a bridegroom as the Eldest Frog is sure to make a kind
husband.”
But the bride only sighed the more, and sadly took her way toward the
great leaf, whereon the wedding guests were assembled.
The Eldest Frog was dressed in his best. His speckled coat was new, and
his yellow breeches fitted to perfection; but for all that he was old
and ugly. He leered at the bride with his goggle-eyes, and grinned till
the two ends of his mouth nearly met behind.
“Croak! croak!” he said, laying his hand on his heart. “Ah! the fair
bride! Ah! the lovely Crimson! What happiness to win the love of such
an exquisite creature!” He held out his withered hand, and advanced
a step or two; but at the same instant a voice was heard, crying,
“Villain! do not dare to touch her!” and leaping across the lily-leaf,
his eyes flashing fire, his bulrush spear in his hand, came the Green
Frog.
With one thrust he sent the Eldest Frog sprawling on the floor. Then,
while all the company looked on aghast, he caught the Crimson Crab in
his arms, and hailed her as his bride. “This villain lay in wait for
me,” he cried, “and captured me unawares the very night when last I
saw thee, my own. For weeks I have lain fast bound, hand and foot,
in a dungeon deep under the mud. To-day I was set free by a faithful
Horned Pout, whom I had formerly befriended. Fly with me, my bright,
my beautiful! My home among the reeds is lowly, but love will make it
rich. Away! away!” He seized the slender claw of the Crimson Crab; and
before her father could prevent it, the two had leaped from the leaf,
and were scuttling swiftly through the clear water.
All the guests followed,—that is, all who could swim,—to see what would
become of the venturous young couple. The old Crab went into his hole
and sulked; while as for the Eldest Frog, he just lay on his back where
his rival had thrown him, gasping and gurgling, and nobody took any
notice of him, till at last a fat brown duck came along, and—gobbled
him up!