In a tank at the foot of the hill
Lived Mr. and Mrs. Frog,
At the head of the sparkling rill,
By the side of a queachy bog;
And they had children ten--
All froggies as yellow as gold,
Who loved to play on the fen,
But they often were over-bold.
Now it fell out one bright day,
As it never had done before,
When Father Frog was away
A stickleback sailed to the door.
"Oh! Mrs. Frog," said he,
"Your sister is very ill;
And much she wants to see
You down at the water mill."
Then Mother frog showed her grief
In such tears as you never saw;
And, having no handkerchief,
She wiped her eyes with a paw.
Said she, "Now, froggies dear,
You must not go to the fen:
There is no danger here,
And I'll soon come back again!"
But the naughty little froggies,
Disobeyed their mother and went.
Then a duck, which had lazily swum
For hours in a reedy pool,
Seeing the shadows come,
And feeling the air grow cool.
With a "Quack, quack, quack," came out
She meant, "It is time to sup!"
So finding the froggies about,
She gobbled them quickly up.
So Mr. and Mrs. Frog,
By the peeping stars made bold,
Came back by the queachy bog,
To their froggies all yellow as gold.
They never saw them again--
Alas! that it should be so.
They were told not to go to the fen;
But the did not obey, you know.
"Early Days"