scrambled up on a big mossy hummock, so as to look around. Right away he
saw a little path from the direction of the Long Lane. It led straight
past the very hummock on which Grandfather Frog was sitting, and he
noticed that where the ground was very soft and wet, old boards had been
laid down. That puzzled Grandfather Frog a great deal.
"It's a sure enough path," said he. "But what under the blue, blue sky
does any one want to spoil it for by putting those boards there?"
You see, Grandfather Frog likes the soft wet mud, and he couldn't
understand how any one, even Farmer Brown's boy, could prefer a hard dry
path. Of course he never had worn shoes himself, so he couldn't
understand why any one should want dry feet when they could just as well
have wet ones. He was still puzzling over it when he heard a sound that
made him nearly lose his balance and tumble off the hummock. It was a
whistle, the whistle of Farmer Brown's boy! Grandfather Frog knew it
right away, because he often had heard it over by the Smiling Pool. The
whistle came from over in the Long Lane. Farmer Brown's boy had had his
dinner and was on his way back to look for Grandfather Frog where he had
been dropped.
Grandfather Frog actually grinned as he thought how surprised Farmer
Brown's boy was going to be when he could find no trace of him. Suddenly
the smile seemed to freeze on Grandfather Frog's face. That whistle was
coming nearer! Farmer Brown's boy had left the Long Lane and was coming
along the little path. The truth is, he was coming for a drink at the
spring, but Grandfather Frog didn't think of this. He was sure that in
some way Farmer Brown's boy had found out which way he had gone and was
coming after him. He crouched down as flat as he could on the big
hummock and held his breath. Farmer Brown's boy went straight past.
Just a few steps beyond, he stopped and knelt down. Peeping through the
grass, Grandfather Frog saw him dip up beautiful clear water in an old
cup and drink. Then Grandfather Frog knew just where the spring was.
A few minutes later, Farmer Brown's boy passed again, still whistling,
on his way to the Long Lane. Grandfather Frog waited only long enough to
be sure that he had really gone. Then, with bigger jumps than ever, he
started for the spring. A dozen long jumps, and he could see the water.
Two more jumps and then a long jump, and he had landed in the spring
with a splash!
"Chugarum!" cried Grandfather Frog. "How good the water feels!"
And all the time, Grandfather Frog had jumped straight into more
trouble.
XX
GRANDFATHER FROG LOSES HEART
Look before you leap;
The water may be deep.
That is the very best kind of advice, but most people find that out when
it is too late. Grandfather Frog did. Of course he had heard that little
verse all his life. Indeed, he had been very fond of saying it to those
who came to the Smiling Pool to ask his advice. But Grandfather Frog
seemed to have left all his wisdom behind him when he left the Smiling
Pool to go out into the Great World. You see, it is very hard work for
any one whose advice has been sought to turn right around and take
advice themselves. So Grandfather Frog had been getting into scrapes
ever since he started out on his foolish journey, and now here he was in
still another, and he had landed in it head first, with a great splash.
Of course, when he had seen the cool, sparkling water of the spring, it
had seemed to him that he just couldn't wait another second to get into
it. He was so hot and dry and dreadfully thirsty and uncomfortable! And
so--oh, dear me!--Grandfather Frog didn't look at all before he leaped.
No, Sir, he didn't! He just dived in with a great long jump. Oh, how
good that water felt! For a few minutes he couldn't think of anything
else. It was cooler than the water of the Smiling Pool, because, as you
know, it was a spring. But it felt all the better for that, and
Grandfather Frog just closed his eyes and floated there in pure
happiness.
Presently he opened his eyes to look around. Then he blinked them
rapidly for a minute or so. He rubbed them to make sure that he saw
aright. His heart seemed to sink way, way down towards his toes.
"Chugarum!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog, "Chugarum!" And after that for a
long time he didn't say a word.
You see, it was this way. All around him rose perfectly straight smooth
walls. He could look up and see a little of the blue, blue sky right
overhead and whispering leaves of trees and bushes. Over the edge of the
smooth straight wall grasses were bending. But they were so far above
his head, so dreadfully far! _There wasn't any place to climb out!_
Grandfather Frog was in a prison! He didn't understand it at all, but it
was so.
Of course, Farmer Brown's boy could have told him all about it. A long
time before Farmer Brown himself had found that spring, and because the
water was so clear and cold and pure, he had cleared away all the dirt
and rubbish around it. Then he had knocked the bottom out of a nice
clean barrel and had dug down where the water bubbled up out of the sand
and had set the barrel down in this hole and had filled in the bottom
with clean white sand for the water to bubble up through. About half-way
up the barrel he had cut a little hole for the water to run out as fast
as it bubbled in at the bottom. Of course the water never could fill the
barrel, because when it reached that hole, it ran out. This left a
straight, smooth wall up above, a wall altogether too high for
Grandfather Frog to jump over from the inside.
Poor old Grandfather Frog! He wished more than ever that he never, never
had thought of leaving the Smiling Pool to see the Great World. Round
and round he swam, but he couldn't see any way out of it. The little
hole where the water ran out was too small for him to squeeze through,
as he found out by trying and trying. So far as he could see, he had
just got to stay there all the rest of his life. Worse still, he knew
that Farmer Brown's boy sometimes came to the spring for a drink, for he
had seen him do it. That meant that the very next time he came, he would
find Grandfather Frog, because there was no place to hide. When
Grandfather Frog thought of that, he just lost heart. Yes, Sir, he just
lost heart. He gave up all hope of ever seeing the Smiling Pool again,
and two big tears ran out of his big goggly eyes.
XXI
THE MERRY LITTLE BREEZES TRY TO COMFORT GRANDFATHER FROG
When the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind had left
Grandfather Frog in the Long Lane where Farmer Brown's boy had dropped
him, and had hurried as fast as ever they could to try to find some of
his friends to help him, not one of them had been successful. No one was
at home, and no one was in any of the places where they usually were to
be found. The Merry Little Breezes looked and looked. Then, one by one,
they sadly turned back to the Long Lane. They felt so badly that they
just hated to go back where they had left Grandfather Frog.
When they got there, they found Striped Chipmunk, who now was scolding
Farmer Brown's boy as fast as his tongue could go.
"Where is he?" cried the Merry Little Breezes excitedly.
Striped Chipmunk stopped scolding long enough to point to Farmer Brown's
boy, who was hunting in the grass for some trace of Grandfather Frog.
"We don't mean him, you stupid! We can see him for ourselves. Where's
Grandfather Frog?" cried the Merry Little Breezes, all speaking at once.
"I don't know," replied Striped Chipmunk, "and what's more, I don't
care!"
Now this wasn't true, for Striped Chipmunk isn't that kind. It was
mostly talk, and the Merry Little Breezes knew it. They knew that
Striped Chipmunk really thinks a great deal of Grandfather Frog, just as
they do. So they pretended not to notice what he said or how put out he
seemed. After a while, he told them that he had set Grandfather Frog
free and that then he had started for the spring on the other side of
the Long Lane. The Merry Little Breezes were delighted to hear the good
news, and they said such a lot of nice things to Striped Chipmunk that
he quite forgot to scold Farmer Brown's boy. Then they started for the
spring, dancing merrily, for they felt sure that there Grandfather Frog
was all right, and they expected to find him quite at home.
"Hello, Grandfather Frog!" they shouted, as they peeped into the spring.
"How do you like your new home?"
Grandfather Frog made no reply. He just rolled his great goggly eyes up
at them, and they were full of tears.
"Why--why--why, Grandfather Frog, what is the matter now?" they cried.
"Chugarum," said Grandfather Frog, and his voice sounded all choky, "I
can't get out."
Then they noticed for the first time how straight and smooth the walls
of the spring were and how far down Grandfather Frog was, and they knew
that he spoke the truth. They tried bending down the grasses that grew
around the edge of the spring, but none were long enough to reach the
water. If they had stopped to think, they would have known that
Grandfather Frog couldn't have climbed up by them, anyway. Then they
tried to lift a big stick into the spring, but it was too heavy for
them, and they couldn't move it. However, they did manage to blow an old
shingle in, and this gave Grandfather Frog something to sit on, so that
he began to feel a little better. Then they said all the comforting
things they could think of. They told him that no harm could come to
him there, unless Farmer Brown's boy should happen to see him.
[Illustration: "That's just what I'm afraid of!" croaked Grandfather
Frog. _Page 109_.]
"That's just what I am afraid of!" croaked Grandfather Frog. "He is sure
to see me if he comes for a drink, for there is no place for me to
hide."
"Perhaps he won't come," said one of the Little Breezes hopefully.
"If he does come, you can hide under the piece of shingle, and then he
won't know you are here at all," said another.
Grandfather Frog brightened up. "That's so!" said he. "That's a good
idea, and I'll try it."
Then one of the Merry Little Breezes promised to keep watch for Farmer
Brown's boy, and all the others started off on another hunt for some one
to help Grandfather Frog out of this new trouble.
XXII
GRANDFATHER FROG'S TROUBLES GROW
Head first in; no way out;
It's best to know what you're about!
Grandfather Frog had had plenty of time to realize how very true this
is. As he sat on the old shingle which the Merry Little Breezes had
blown into the spring where he was a prisoner, he thought a great deal
about that little word "if." _If_ he hadn't left the Smiling Pool, _if_
he hadn't been stubborn and set in his ways, _if_ he hadn't been in such
a hurry, _if_ he had looked to see where he was leaping--well, any one
of these _ifs_ would have kept him out of his present trouble.
It really wasn't so bad in the spring. That is, it wouldn't have been
so bad but for the fear that Farmer Brown's boy might come for a drink
and find him there. That was Grandfather Frog's one great fear, and it
gave him bad dreams whenever he tried to take a nap. He grew cold all
over at the very thought of being caught again by Farmer Brown's boy,
and when at last one of the Merry Little Breezes hurried up to tell him
that Farmer Brown's boy actually was coming, poor old Grandfather Frog
was so frightened that the Merry Little Breeze had to tell him twice to
hide under the old shingle as it floated on the water.
At last he got it through his head, and drawing a very long breath, he
dived into the water and swam under the old shingle. He was just in
time. Yes, Sir, he was just in time. If Farmer Brown's boy hadn't been
thinking of something else, he certainly would have noticed the little
rings on the water made by Grandfather Frog when he dived in. But he was
thinking of something else, and it wasn't until he dipped a cup in for
the second time that he even saw the old shingle.
"Hello!" he exclaimed. "That must have blown in since I was here
yesterday. We can't have anything like that in our nice spring."
With that he reached out for the old shingle, and Grandfather Frog,
hiding under it, gave himself up for lost. But the anxious Little Breeze
had been watching sharply and the instant he saw what Farmer Brown's boy
was going to do, he played the old, old trick of snatching his hat from
his head. The truth is, he couldn't think of anything else to do. Farmer
Brown's boy grabbed at his hat, and then, because he was in a hurry and
had other things to do, he started off without once thinking of the old
shingle again.
"Chugarum!" cried Grandfather Frog, as he swam out from under the
shingle and climbed up on it, "That certainly was a close call. If I
have many more like it, I certainly shall die of fright."
Nothing more happened for a long time, and Grandfather Frog was
wondering if it wouldn't be safe to take a nap when he saw peeping over
the edge above him two eyes. They were greenish yellow eyes, and they
stared and stared. Grandfather Frog stared and stared back. He just
couldn't help it. He didn't know who they belonged to. He couldn't
remember ever having seen them before. He was afraid, and yet somehow he
couldn't make up his mind to jump. He stared so hard at the eyes that he
didn't notice a long furry paw slowly, very slowly, reaching down
towards him. Nearer it crept and nearer. Then suddenly it moved like a
flash. Grandfather Frog felt sharp claws in his white and yellow
waistcoat, and before he could even open his mouth to cry "Chugarum," he
was sent flying through the air and landed on his back in the grass.
Pounce! Two paws pinned him down, and the greenish yellow eyes were not
an inch from his own. They belonged to Black Pussy, Farmer Brown's cat.
XXIII
THE DEAR OLD SMILING POOL ONCE MORE
Black Pussy was having a good time. Grandfather Frog wasn't. It was
great fun for Black Pussy to slip a paw under Grandfather Frog and toss
him up in the air. It was still more fun to pretend to go away, but to
hide instead, and the instant Grandfather Frog started off, to pounce
upon him and cuff him and roll him about. But there wasn't any fun in it
for Grandfather Frog. In the first place, he didn't know whether or not
Black Pussy liked Frogs to eat, and he was terribly frightened. In the
second place, Black Pussy didn't always cover up her claws, and they
pricked right through Grandfather Frog's white and yellow waistcoat and
hurt, for he is very tender there.
At last Black Pussy grew tired of playing, so catching up Grandfather
Frog in her mouth, she started along the little path from the spring to
the Long Lane. Grandfather Frog didn't even kick, which was just as
well, because if he had, Black Pussy would have held him tighter, and
that would have been very uncomfortable indeed.
"It's all over, and this is the end," moaned Grandfather Frog. "I'm
going to be eaten now. Oh, why, why did I ever leave the Smiling Pool?"
Just as Black Pussy slipped into the Long Lane, Grandfather Frog heard a
familiar sound. It was a whistle, a merry whistle. It was the whistle of
Farmer Brown's boy. It was coming nearer and nearer. A little bit of
hope began to stir in the heart of Grandfather Frog.
He didn't know just why, but it did. Always he had been in the greatest
fear of Farmer Brown's boy, but now--well, if Farmer Brown's boy should
take him, he might get away from him as he did before, but he was very
sure that he never, never could get away from Black Pussy.
The whistle drew nearer. Black Pussy stopped. Then she began to make a
queer whirring sound deep down in her throat.
"Hello, Black Pussy! Have you been hunting? Come here and show me what
you've got," cried a voice.
Black Pussy arched up her back and began to rub against the legs of
Farmer Brown's boy, and all the time the whir, ring sound in her throat
grew louder and louder. Farmer Brown's boy stooped down to see what she
had in her mouth.
"Why," he exclaimed, "I do believe this is the very same old frog that
got away from me! You don't want him, Puss. I'll just put him in my
pocket and take him up to the house by and by."
With that he took Grandfather Frog from Black Pussy and dropped him in
his pocket. He patted Black Pussy, called her a smart cat, and then
started on his way, whistling merrily. It was dark and rather close in
that pocket, but Grandfather Frog didn't mind this. It was a lot better
than feeling sharp teeth and claws all the time. He wondered how soon
they would reach the house and what would happen to him then. After what
seemed like a long, long time, he felt himself swung through the air,
and then he landed on the ground with a thump that made him grunt.
Farmer Brown's boy had taken off his coat and thrown it down.
The whistling stopped. Everything was quiet. Grandfather Frog waited
and listened, but not a sound could he hear. Then he saw a little ray of
light creeping into his prison. He squirmed and pushed, and all of a
sudden he was out of the pocket. The bright light made him blink. As
soon as he could see, he looked to see where he was. Then he rubbed his
eyes with both hands and looked again. He wasn't at Farmer Brown's house
at all. Where do you think he was? Why, right on the bank of the Smiling
Pool, and a little way off was Farmer Brown's boy fishing!
"Chugarum!" cried Grandfather Frog, and it was the loudest, gladdest
chugarum that the Smiling Pool ever had heard. "Chugarum!" he cried
again, and with a great leap he dived with a splash into the dear old
Smiling Pool, which smiled more than ever.
And never again has Grandfather Frog tried to see the Great World. He
is quite content to leave it to those who like to dwell there. And since
his own wonderful adventures, he has been ready to believe anything he
is told about what happens there. Nothing can surprise him, not even the
astonishing things that happened to Chatterer the Red Squirrel, about
which it takes a whole book to tell.