"I'M very sorry for poor little Mrs. Mousey," said Puss, as he and Mr.
Rowley Frog hastened toward the pond.
"So am I," answered Rowley. "She was very generous with all her good
things to eat."
"And the poor rat," continued Puss. "It was a sad ending to our little
feast. I guess he's been eaten up by this time. That naughty old cat
looked very hungry."
"Oh dear, oh dear," sobbed Rowley, the tears rolling down his face, "I
want to get home. I'll never run away again."
"But as Froggy was crossing over a brook,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
A lily-white duck came and gobbled him up,
So there was an end of one, two and three,
Heigh-ho, says Rowley.
The Rat, the Mouse and the little Frog-gee,
With a rowley, powley, gammon and spinach,
Heigh-ho, says Anthony Rowley!"
"This is dreadful," cried Puss, as he saw his small friend disappear
down the duck's long neck; "it has been a sad day. All three of my
little friends are gone."
"Never mind," cried the lily-white duck, looking up at Puss standing
mournfully by the side of the brook, "Frogs are good to eat, and if they
will run away from home, it's their own lookout. They should stay in
their ponds and not go wandering about strange places."
Puss did not answer. It seemed pretty hard to meet such a sad fate, and
he did not like the lily-white duck at all.
"Come, come," cried the duck, "cheer up, I'll ferry you across the brook
if you wish to reach the other side."
"That's kind of you," said Puss, seating himself on her back.
"I'm not such a bad sort of duck," she continued, paddling swiftly
toward the opposite bank, "but I must eat, and frogs are mighty good
eating, let me tell you."
As she finished speaking she waddled up the bank, and Puss sprang nimbly
from her back. "Thank you, Mrs. Duck," he said, "indeed, I'm obliged to
you; but I wish you hadn't eaten my friend, the little frog."
Just then nine little yellow ducklings waddled toward them. "These are
my children," said Mrs. Duck, very proudly.
"How are you, my little ducklets?" cried Puss.
"Quite well, thank you," they answered. It was a pretty sight to see
those yellow balls of down cuddle up to their mother, and Puss began to
feel that, after all, she must be a good sort of duck, for her children
loved her so much. Perhaps he had judged her too harshly for gobbling up
the frog, and when she turned to Puss and said:
"Come home with us, Mr. Puss," he forgave her for what she had done, and
followed her downy, yellow brood.