Mrs. Frog swam rapidly over the glassy surface and she noticed that a
golden pathway led from where she was to the sun that hung low in the
west at the other end of the lake. This narrow pathway she could not
cross, which alarmed her, as she fancied she was held fast by it, and
could make no headway. The ripples caused by her efforts broke this
golden mirror into many sparkling fragments; but, farther away, it lay
undisturbed and placid. On looking at the trees the other side of her
she saw that she was making excellent progress and that, instead of the
sun’s pathway detaining her, it was following her. Her alarm gave way to
gladness at being accompanied by such a splendid convoy—people sometimes
fret over the slow progress which they think they are making, when, in
reality, they are traveling very fast. She eluded Mr. Hawk and Mr.
Moccasin-snake by diving when near the shore and then hurrying up the
bank to the door of her house. On looking back she discovered that the
sun’s bright pathway did not follow her but remained below on the
lake—there are places into which things that we prize will not accompany
us.
On entering she found confusion and disorder. The dishes on which the
cold midday meal had been served lay spread on the table. The Baby Frogs
were unkempt and disheveled and some of them were crying. The youngest
one had cried itself to sleep. Mr. Frog was a sight to behold. He was
almost frantic and went about tripping over bits of furniture and
clothing that were strewn on the floor. His face was inflamed and he
greeted Mrs. Frog hoarsely with: “What on earth kept you so late? I
thought you would never come! These children have set me almost crazy
with their mischief and carrying-on. I wouldn’t put in another day like
this for anything. You shouldn’t inflict on me such misery when I told
you to be back before night.”
Mrs. Frog’s cheeriness, gained from her outing, was something abated;
but she set about to right matters and put things in order. She reminded
Mr. Frog that the sun had not yet set; but he did not hear, or feigned
not to hear her. He went out and hopped down the way to Mr. Toad’s
house, where he supped and talked about the coming election of a new
king of the forest, which was growing smaller every year. Mr. Lion and
Mr. Tiger and Mr. Wolf had gone away and it was reported that Mr. Bear
intended moving farther West because his only brother was dead. Mr.
Wildcat would be a candidate and so would Mr. Fox, but neither was
admired.
Meantime Mrs. Frog busied herself about the house. The Baby Frogs came
out from their hiding places where they had been driven, in terror, by
their angry father. She dried their tears and dressed them for supper
which she prepared. Deftly she put everything in place and restored
order and soon smiles and laughter returned to her little ones. She
waited supper until late and then told the Baby Frogs to eat and be
ready to go to the concert in the marsh when Mr. Frog came. She ate
nothing. After supper she waited until far into the night and one by one
the Baby Frogs fell asleep and were put to bed. When all was still and
the fire burned low she sat holding her Baby Frog that was considered
“odd” on her knee. She wondered if it were very wrong in her to go away
and enjoy herself as she had done when so much unhappiness resulted. The
thought came to her that Mr. Frog did not love her else he would have
reflected that the crosses and trials borne by him so impatiently for
one day were her usual portion and that she had to bear them every day
in the year and meet him pleasantly and with smiles in the evening or be
charged with ill-temper and making home unpleasant. She hugged her Baby
Frog that was considered “odd” closer to her. It had taken cold, because
left to sleep without covering while she was away. Then she blamed
herself and resolved never to go away again and fell to crying and
upbraiding herself.
Very late at night or early in the morning Mr. Frog came home in great
spirits. His countenance was beaming. He had tarried late at Mrs. Toad’s
house and halted on the way home to hear the songs of Mr. Whippoorwill
and Mr. Mocking-bird, and to see the fine display given by Mr. Fire-fly.
When he found Mrs. Frog crying he scowled at her and said gruffly:
“What’s the matter now? If gadding about has this effect on you, you had
better stay at home and not tire yourself out traipsing around seeing
people who care nothing for you.” Then he flung himself down to sleep.
Mrs. Frog, with her Baby Frog that was considered “odd” held close in
her arms, also went to bed where her tears flowed in secret. She did not
know the meaning of those tears; they came unbidden. She fancied she had
done something very wrong and she fell asleep only when exhaustion came.
It is most unfortunate that those who make sacrifices for others are
never noticed or given credit for them and that they are cruelly
reproached when those sacrifices halt, temporarily, or wholly cease. It
is most unfortunate that we inflict pain on those we love, in our
thoughtlessness, and that they suffer this pain without always knowing
its source.