Arriving at the opposite bank, which she clambered up in no time, Mrs.
Frog was feeling refreshed; she came to a road that fringed the lake,
and, crossing this, she came to the briar patch. She went up and down
the road, now entering one opening in the briar patch and then another,
only to find that they were “blind” and that they led nowhere. One after
another she entered these openings and had to come out again. She was
about to give up the task and return home and she was soothing her
disappointed feelings with the reflection that while she had not found
Mrs. Rabbit and returned her call, she had enjoyed the outing immensely
and had been benefited by the trip, when she saw a small opening nearly
covered by hanging leaves. After some hesitation she entered this and
found, to her great joy, that it was an arched pathway, well beaten by
travel, which led to the home of Mrs. Rabbit. She followed this until
she neared the house and saw Mrs. Rabbit standing in her front yard.
Mrs. Frog saluted her cheerily but Mrs. Rabbit pretended that she was
frightened and rushed in her house and hid in a heap in the darkest
corner. Mrs. Frog followed her in, exclaiming: “La! Mrs. Rabbit, you
need not hide. It is only Mrs. Frog that has come to see you and she is
not going to hurt you.”
Mrs. Rabbit came out and said: “Why, Mrs. Frog, I am so glad to see you.
I have been thinking of you and wondering if you never would come or if
you had quite forgotten me. You are looking so well. I really believe,
Mrs. Frog, that you are getting younger every day. I am sure you are
getting better looking. How is Mr. Frog and the children—the dear
things, how I would like to see them—how are they all?”
“The children,” replied Mrs. Frog, “are just as dear and sweet as they
can live; and growing? You never saw the like! Why, they are perfect
Jonah’s gourds, one would think, to see how they grow. And they are just
as bad! Not mean, you know, but just mischievous and into everything.
They run me wild, at times. But with all the trouble they give us, what
would life be without them? Dear me! This would be a sad place without
children. I needn’t ask how you are,” continued Mrs. Frog, “because your
looks speak for themselves and tell the story of your good health and
happiness. How are the dear children and Mr. Rabbit? I suppose he is
like my old man, grumbledy and fussy, but just as good as he can be. I
hope he will come in before I leave because I want to see him.”
There was an undertone of sadness in the forced mirth of Mrs. Rabbit’s
voice as she replied: “The children are all well. Now and then one of
them gets sick but it is only for a little while and it amounts to
nothing. Mr. Rabbit has gone to mill with a turn of corn so that I may
have flour to make bread for Sunday dinner. We usually have a good deal
of company on Sunday.”
Mrs. Rabbit said this with the faintest suggestion of vanity, and then
continued: “I am sure you must be famished after your long trip across
the lake. Dear me, how I wish I could swim.” (Mrs. Rabbit was only too
sincere in this.)
“Spread this mullein leaf over your dress to protect it. What a pretty
dress you have and it is so becoming to you. I always did like green.
Your appetite must provide the relish for what I have to set before you,
as I have only scraps to offer and it would keep you too long waiting to
cook something fresh. Somebody once said something in praise of a dinner
of herbs; but for my part, I would prefer something else.”
Mrs. Frog spread the mullein leaf over her lap and fell to with much
energy, but her thoughts were on her dress, of which she was very proud.
“I am glad you like my dress,” she said. “I like it very much. I got it
at a bargain, too, because I bought the goods by the quantity and made
dresses of the same material for all children and had quite a lot left
for mending. Children are so hard on clothes. This dress like all the
rest does not fit me. I suppose I must have an awful figure”—Mrs. Frog
said this, but did not mean a word of it; she was really proud of her
fine figure—“and the dressmakers never fit me. It is all right around
the neck but, you see, it is much too tight and binding across the bust
and it is not full enough about the hips; while the waist is baggy—it is
so loose, and,—dear me! if I wore corsets it would look like a meal sack
on a hoe handle, on me.”
[Illustration:
Mrs. Frog asked: “What is the news over this way?”
]
Mrs. Rabbit could not see the defects mentioned and concluded they were
imaginary. People frequently differ in opinion.
The conversation turned to general topics and Mrs. Frog asked: “What is
the news over this way?”
Said Mrs. Rabbit: “We never hear anything in this out-of-the-way place.
It is so quiet. The overflow has caused some suffering and one of Mr.
Fox’s sons, who had been stealing a farmer’s chickens in the clearing,
was killed the other night and his skin is going to be worn by the
farmer’s daughter next winter to keep her neck and shoulders warm. Mr.
Bear’s brother, who had been killing and eating the farmer’s calves in
the canebrake, was caught in a trap and shot dead. His skin is stretched
on the door of the farmer’s barn and his body is hung up in the
smokehouse near by. Mr. Woodpecker brought this news to us and warned us
to be on our guard because there are so many hungry animals abroad. I am
afraid to let the children out of my sight.”
“Well, well!” exclaimed Mrs. Frog. “That is too bad! But you know,”
continued Mrs. Frog, glancing furtively at her reflection in the mirror
and comparing her appearance with the appearance of Mrs. Rabbit, the
result of which seemed to please her, “you know the way of the
transgressor is hard. But really I must go as it is getting late.”
Mrs. Frog jumped up and made ready to take her departure, taking at the
same time a mental inventory of everything in the house.
Mrs. Rabbit begged her to stay longer, assured her it was quite early
and that she had plenty of time to reach home, and reproached her for
hurrying off. Mrs. Rabbit accompanied Mrs. Frog to the end of the path
through the briar patch and out into the opening on the bank of the
lake.
“You must come and see me again, soon,” said Mrs. Rabbit. “Come early
and spend the day and bring the children and I will keep mine home from
school and we will have a nice time.”
“I am coming right soon. You cannot keep me away because I enjoy these
visits hugely. I am sorry I did not see Mr. Rabbit and the dear
children. Now, I will not take no. You must come to see me soon; you
must.” Mrs. Frog was very emphatic.
“I’m coming before long,” said Mrs. Rabbit. “I’m coming, sure. I would
have been over before this but I cannot take a short cut across the
lake, like you, but must go around. And, since his son was killed, Mr.
Fox lives up at this end of the lake, which makes me go the long way,
around the lower end. And getting through the switch-cane is a job, I
tell you. When I brought home the coffee I borrowed from you it took me
until evening to make the trip. Mr. Bear has plenty of paths through the
switch-cane, but they run all which ways and you are coming home half
the time when you think you are going; but there is no way out of it
unless you could fly over it as Mr. Jaybird does when he goes over to
the deadening to tote down fire-wood for the devil on Friday mornings,
and the Cotton-tail family cannot fly nor even jump like the Jackrabbit
family. But I’ll manage to get there soon.”
They shook hands and kissed and Mrs. Frog plunged into the lake with a
ker-plunk and swimming gaily out a distance turned around and said:
“You must come soon.”
“I will, and you must come soon.”
Mrs. Rabbit watched her guest depart and when out of hearing almost
hissed: “Horrid thing! I don’t see what brings her here. I wish Mr.
Moccasin-snake or Mr. Hawk would come along and catch her. She just came
here to show that green dress because she knew neither myself nor my
children have a stitch to wear but these old grey gowns trimmed with
fur, and here it is the middle of summer.”
Mrs. Rabbit returned home just as Mr. Rabbit, who had been to mill with
a turn of corn to have ground into flour to make bread for Sunday
dinner, turned the corner.