Bully Bull Frog and His Home in Rainbow Valley

As early summer drew near, mornings grew warm and pleasant. And when the sun peeped above the horizon old John Bull Frog thundered a noisy greeting to him. Several other old bullfrogs, not wishing to be outdone by John Bull, woke early to boom out a morning welcome. Very few frogs could sleep late. But they didn't mind, for the world in the early morning was so full of joy and song. Even the little frogs were awake and trying their voices at this hour.

Our little Bully was roaming around among some big leaves looking for his breakfast. He was not hungry, for he had a splendid meal late the night before. He was a great deal like a boy—anything tasted good at any old time. As he hopped about, a woolly worm—the kind of worm we call caterpillar—began to be afraid and started from his hiding place under a big leaf. He hurried away as fast as he could, for he didn't care to make a breakfast for a little frog.

"Wait a minute!" cried Bully. "Why are you in such a rush?"

"I don't want to be eaten," Woolly Worm replied in a very much frightened voice.

Bully had never eaten a woolly worm. He wasn't at all sure he would like the taste of one, so he said, "I won't eat you. Let's be friends."

"I should like to be your friend," replied Woolly Worm, "but I'm afraid I can't trust you."

"I won't eat you," again promised Bully. "You are far too handsome to be eaten."

Woolly Worm knew quite well he was goodlooking, and was proud of his looks. He wore several rings—not the kind children like to wear. Oh, no! His were black and yellow. They were of wool and went around his entire body. They surely made a splendid coat. When Bully called him a handsome fellow he stopped to listen, for he liked to be told that he was well dressed.

"Well, if you won't eat me," said Woolly Worm, "we shall be friends." He talked with short, panting little breaths. His eyes looked as if they were being squeezed from his head, and he seemed to be in great distress.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Bully. "You don't look right."

"I'm afraid I've been too greedy," panted Woolly Worm. "But everything tastes so good, how can I help it? This morning my coat's far too tight for me. I feel as if my inside is too big for my outside."

Bully knew how it felt to wear a tight coat. He also knew how to get a new one. "Can't you get a new coat?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," replied Woolly Worm, "that's no trouble at all. I was just about to change my old coat for a new one when you frightened me from my hiding place."

"Please pardon me," said Bully. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Don't mind me. Just go ahead and change your coat."

"I will," said Woolly Worm. "This one isn't very comfortable. The reason I was afraid you'd eat me," he continued, "is because after I change my coat I'm so weak for a few hours I can't get about. You're sure you will not change your mind?" he asked a little anxiously.

"No, I promise you I won't," replied Bully. "Cross my heart and hope to die if I do," he said as he drew his hand criss-cross on the front of his vest.

"All right, I'll trust you then," said Woolly Worm. At once he began to hump his back and bend and twist about. Then his coat, like Bully's old coat, split wide open down the back. In a short time Woolly Worm had pulled it off. With the coat came also the lining to his stomach and intestines. He lay beside them looking very pale and feeble. Bully thought Woolly Worm was dying. He went a little nearer to him. "Are you dying?" he asked in alarm.

"Oh, no," answered Woolly Worm. "All I need is a few hours of rest and quiet. Then I'll be myself again."

"But your new coat?" gasped Bully. "Where is it?"

"I have it on," Woolly Worm answered in a feeble voice. "It takes a little time for it to get dry and hard. Please go away and let me alone."

"But don't you want me to stay with you? You look so sick," insisted Bully.

"No, no, go away, I want to sleep," said Woolly Worm crossly.

Bully went off a little distance, but he made up his mind to come back soon to see how his new friend was getting along. Bully was worried, Woolly Worm looked so weak and sick. But he forgot all about the worm when he heard Grandfather Bull Frog's big voice saying, "Hello, strangers, where are you from?" Bully hurried away to see who had arrived at the Frog Pond.

There was much excitement and a great babble of voices over the way under a big elm tree. Mrs. Toad, hearing the noise, came from her home as fast as her short legs and her fat body would bring her. All the father and mother frogs, all the boy and girl frogs, and all the baby frogs could be seen hoppity-hopping toward the big elm tree with the very biggest and longest leaps they could make. What was it all about? Surely some great person has come, thought Bully as he, too, hurried over to the gathering under the elm tree.

There in the center of a large circle of frogs he saw six strangers sitting. Two of them were dressed in fine green coats with "spots of brown and bands of darker green shaded in." These two strangers said they had always lived in the forest a few miles away. They said the other four strangers had stopped at their house to spend the night, and had told them of the Frog Pond in Rainbow Valley and invited them to come here with them. The two stranger frogs wanted to come, as they had heard the Frog Pond was the most beautiful and the safest place in the world for frogs to live. "It certainly is lovely," they declared as they gazed around.

Two of the other four stranger frogs wore blue coats with pure white vests. "We are the Blue Tree Frogs from South America," they said.

"What splendid clothes!" exclaimed some of the old frogs.

The Blue Tree Frogs only smiled and said, "These are our friends Mr. and Mrs. Golden Tree Frog from Tasmania."

The Golden Tree Frogs wore coats of grass green thickly covered with shiny yellow embroidery that looked like the purest beaten gold. Several of the mother frogs gasped as they saw their beautiful clothes. They went near and touched them gently. They had not known there were such handsome frogs in the world as these. The Golden Tree Frogs were much pleased to be so admired. They believed no other frogs could dress so well.

"A man came to our home and captured us and brought us to this country," said Mr. Golden Tree Frog. "He also brought the Blue Tree Frogs from South America. He took all of us to his beautiful country home and placed us in the trees."

"I don't understand why he should have done that," said Mrs. Blue Tree Frog. "We wanted to stay in our own beautiful country. We have always been unhappy in America. One day a Lark lit in our tree and began talking to us. We told him how homesick we were. 'If I were you,' said the Lark, 'I'd go and live in the Frog Pond.' We asked what Frog Pond he was talking about. He then told us of this lovely place in Rainbow Valley. He talked about these fine old trees and this beautiful little lake. He also told us of the fine old father and mother frogs and of all the young frogs who live here. He said so much about it that we decided to come at once. I can see," he said, looking around, "that the Lark told the truth. It is lovely here. I know we shall like it."

Grandfather Bull Frog asked them what they would like for a house. "Oh, a tree, of course," they said, "if it makes no difference to you."

"Take any one you like, it's all the same to me," said Grandfather Bull Frog, bowing low with his hand on his vest. "I am glad you came," he went on, "for there are so many insects in these trees I was afraid the trees would be destroyed."

"One thing I can't understand," said John Bull Frog, "is how a tree frog can climb. I have tried many times to climb, but I can't do it."

"It is because you do not have suctorial discs, or tiny sucking cups, on the bottom of your feet as we do. These cups help us cling to a tree or anything we may wish to walk upon," said Mr. Blue Tree Frog.

"And see my vest," said a tree frog proudly. "Look at the tiny holes in it. Through these holes I can drink the dew from the leaves. I don't have to come to the ground for a drink of water. No indeed, I don't," he boasted.

"Where do you lay your eggs and hatch your polly-wogs?" asked Mrs. Toad.

"Oh," answered Mrs. Blue Tree Frog, "of course we come down for that, as our babies must spend the first three months in the water."

"Do you sing?" asked some one of the boys among the crowd.

"A very little," they replied.

"We should be glad to have you sing in our grand concert which we give each evening," said Grandfather Bull Frog.

"Thank you. We shall be glad to do our best," they answered. "Now if you will please excuse us," they said, "we shall go to our new home and rest."

The company then divided, each frog going his own way, but all were glad that the new frogs had come to live near the Frog Pond.

Late that afternoon Bully was sitting on an old log wondering why he was not a tree frog. He thought it would be fine to wear such beautiful clothes and to be able to climb trees. It seemed hardly fair that he must always stay on the ground while others could climb so high in the world. He was sitting very still thinking of this when he was startled by a voice near him saying, "Are you asleep?" He came to himself with a jump. There, close by him, was a woolly worm. It was much like the one he had seen change his coat early in the morning, only this worm was wearing a bright, new-looking coat. The woolly worm looked proud and happy.

"No, I was not asleep," said Bully, "but you frightened me." He then remembered the sick worm he had left under the leaf. Perhaps this worm knew him. So Bully asked, "How is the woolly worm who changed his coat? Is he dead?"

The worm laughed. "Now that's a good joke on you," he said. "You don't know an old friend when you meet him. I'm the sick worm. Do you like my new coat?"

"You!" exclaimed Bully. "Are you the worm that was so weak and so sick this morning?"

"Of course I am," the worm replied. "I told you I should be all right in a few hours. How do you like my coat?" he asked again.

"It is fine; much handsomer than the old one," Bully told him. "But how did you get well so quickly?"

"Oh, that's easy," answered Woolly Worm as he slid off the log and disappeared among the thick leaves.

Bully kept on thinking for some time; then he croaked to himself, "Humph! I don't see how it could be so easy!" Then he sprang into the water and disappeared.

The morning was dark and gloomy. Black clouds hung low over the Frog Pond. Deep thunder rumbled and rolled, and across the sky the lightning flashed and zigzagged back and forth. The wind made a low moaning sound in the treetops, as if he knew that a great sorrow had come to the little folks who lived there. The tall cat-tails bowed their heads and sighed. Every frog was quiet and very much afraid. What were they afraid of? Not of the coming storm, I am sure, for frogs dearly love raindrops. Some one very dreadful had come during the early morning hours. And now every little heart was beating fast with fear. Every little face had a look of care and fright.

This morning Bully had slept quite late because he had learned that the very best time to get a good meal is at night. In the darkness many of the little flying and crawling creatures are out. You see, Bully has good eyes. He can see almost as well in the dark as in the light. He had a habit of roaming about among the weeds and grasses during the early hours of the night. He was growing round and fat, for he had learned to be a good hunter.

But of course a little frog must sleep some, too. So he had slept a little later than usual on this stormy morning. As he opened his eyes and sat looking about, he wondered why everything was so quiet. He could not hear the croak of a single frog. Neither could he see any on Grandfather Frog's island. But here and there peeping through the water he saw a little face wearing a frightened look. It seemed very strange indeed. What did it mean?

He was turning these things over in his mind when he heard a new, strange noise. It came from over beyond the bulrushes. It sounded like quack, quack. He was greatly alarmed. What could it mean? Some one dreadful must have come in the night—some one that would hurt little frogs. When he heard quack, quack the second time, Bully sprang quickly into the water and went down, down as deep as he could, and then crawled under a rock on the bottom of the pond. Whoever made that dreadful noise seemed to be following him. He could not stay hidden long, so he thought he would go quietly over to his old log and try to find Grandmother Bull Frog. She always took care of him in time of danger, so he must find her. You know there is no place quite so safe as the one close to mother when danger is near. And Grandmother, you remember, was the only mother Bully knew.

Down behind the old log he found most of the old frogs. They were talking scarcely above a whisper, and all of them looked frightened and worried. He heard them say, "What shall we do? We can't live here with those ducks. There isn't room in the Frog Pond for both ducks and frogs. But how can we make the ducks go away? Is it possible the Lark made a mistake and invited those dreadful ducks to come here, too? Or did they see a great many frogs coming this way and follow them?"

"Perhaps they won't stay," said one. "They may not like this pond!"

"But they will like it," answered another. "See all these tender young frogs and polly-wogs! They can't help liking this pond."

"They will gobble our children by the thousands," said another.

Bully was dreadfully frightened. From what the old frogs said he learned that Mr. and Mrs. Duck had come, and if they stayed there would be no more peace and happiness for the frogs in Rainbow Valley. Their home would be quite spoiled. Oh, it was the very worst thing that had ever happened to them!

Now, even though he was so badly frightened, Bully found that he was hungry. He must have some breakfast. He was not only hungry, but he was curious to see what a duck looked like. So he crept out from under the log and started off. He kept out of sight as much as he could by hiding under the leaves and behind the rocks until he got to a place where he could look across the pond and see Mr. and Mrs. Duck. Near a bunch of tall grass on the opposite shore they were walking about and talking noisily. They seemed to be much interested in something in the grass. From where Bully sat he could see Mrs. Duck turn herself round and round in the grass. Then he saw Mr. Duck go where she was and begin to pull some of the grass down and lay it carefully around the place Mrs. Duck had been tramping with her feet. Both ducks worked hard for some time. At last they stood looking down and talking over what they had done. Then Bully saw Mrs. Duck pull soft, downy feathers from her breast and place them carefully about the nest. For that is what they had been doing—making a nest. Finally Mr. Duck walked proudly out and stood oiling and dressing his feathers while Mrs. Duck sat on the nest.

Bully watched Mrs. Duck for a long time. Finally he concluded that she had made up her mind to stay on the nest always or that she had fallen asleep. But just then up she got and came waddling out to where Mr. Duck was. They had a long, earnest talk. Then they both went down to the water and began to eat young frogs. It was a terrible thing to see! Bully trembled from head to foot, while great drops of sweat stood out all over his little body. The ducks swam around contentedly, quacking all the time. Every once in a while he could see them put their heads down under the water—far down until the water was clear above their eyes. And every time their heads came up out of the water he saw the arms and legs of baby frogs disappearing in those big mouths.

It was an awful sight. Bully shut his eyes so that he might not see the little frogs being swallowed alive. Finally he opened his eyes and, taking one more hasty look, he slipped into the water and swam as far out of sight of the ducks as it was possible. How could they be so cruel, he thought. He knew that he must watch out or he, too, would be eaten alive. Looking about, he could not see an old frog anywhere. The sight was too dreadful for them, so they had gone and hidden. Day after day those ducks ate young frogs until the little frog people of the pond were in a panic. Bully didn't dare hunt in the daytime now. He had to keep out of sight to save his life.

There were no more grand concerts with a full booming chorus such as the frogs used to give. Now and then a few frogs would croak a little, but the fine old concert was a thing of the past. There was very little leaping, jumping, swimming, or playing. Every little frog had to keep watch all the time so that he might not lose his life. Oh, why had those dreadful ducks come to spoil the frogs' beautiful home! They loved this pond so much. Everyone was afraid for his life all the time. Many frogs were killed after they had done their best to keep out of sight. They could never be quite sure they were safe.

The days passed slowly. More and more frogs and polly-wogs were eaten. Grandfather Bull Frog was almost crazy. He had taken such good care of his loved Frog Pond. Now those greedy ducks were spoiling it all. Something must be done. He felt he could not stand the wholesale killing of the little frogs much longer. He looked thin and worried. He knew that unless something was done before Mrs. Duck brought her babies from the nest, then most of the young frogs and polly-wogs would be eaten.

Grandfather told Bully to go and tell all the frogs to gather near the old log for a meeting. He wanted to find out whether anyone could think of a plan to get rid of the ducks. Bully went and invited them all to the meeting. He even told Mrs. Toad about it, although he didn't see what she could do. The frogs all came at once. Grandfather asked each of them if he knew of any way to drive the ducks away from the pond. But no one seemed to know what was best to do.

"I should think some of you old bullfrogs could bite those ducks until they would leave," said Mrs. Toad.

"Why don't you bite them yourself?" asked a young frog.

"Because," she answered, "I haven't any teeth. How could I bite a duck and make him leave the Frog Pond, I want you to tell me!"

"I thought you had teeth," said Grandfather Bull Frog. "Most frogs do."

"Toads never do," she replied.

But no one thought Mrs. Toad's idea a good one. They thought of the duck's strong yellow beak and how it would hurt to be bitten by one.

At last John Bull Frog, who had been sitting at the edge of the gathering, said, "I don't feel like saying much because I acted so badly when I first came here. I am ashamed of the way I acted then. But let me tell you, Mrs. John Bull Frog and I, when the time comes, can rid the pond of those ducks."

"Can't you do it now?" the frogs asked.

"No, we can't do it until the right time comes," he replied.

"How can you get rid of them?" asked Grandfather Bull Frog.

"I can't tell you now, but we'll do it at the proper time," was all he would say.

The other frogs told Old John they hoped he would do everything he possibly could, and do it right away. The meeting then broke up, and as the frogs hopped away they could all see those greedy ducks eating, eating, eating little frogs.

Oh, if John Bull Frog would only do something! He had said he could get rid of the ducks. Then why did he have to wait? Each day more and more frogs were eaten. If John Bull Frog really could rid the pond of them, they didn't see why he shouldn't do it right now. It was certainly pretty strange and queer. And it was very hard to wait.

One morning when Bully awoke he felt very hungry. He did not sleep on his lily pad now. How could he sleep on his lily pad when he didn't know what moment a big duck would find him and eat him alive? Each night he climbed on Grandfather's island and cuddled down close beside Grandmother Bull Frog. Grandmother and Bully both hid under some leaves that grew near the water's edge. But Bully was always afraid now. He never went with a hop and a leap anymore. He always moved slowly and quietly. Only those whose life has been in constant danger know what it means to be afraid all the time. There is no joy in life when one must keep watch all the time and can never rest because an enemy is always near.

All the frogs in the Frog Pond began to grow thin and to look worried. The tree frogs were by far the safest these days. If they stayed up in the trees they were not in danger, for ducks out hunting food do not climb trees.

Well, as I started to tell you, Bully awoke one morning very hungry indeed. He told Grandmother how dreadfully hungry he was. He told her, too, that he was afraid to look for anything to eat. "But you must eat to live, you know," she told him. "Now listen to me," she continued. "Over by Mrs. Toad's house there is a nest of fine big ants. I think you can get some of them, but you must be very, very careful. Keep watch every moment. Get down under the water and swim until you come to the rock. Then if you keep watch I think you will be safe and have a good breakfast. Now," she said, "I shall worry all the time you are gone. Don't forget even for a moment to be careful," she said again.

Bully promised to remember all she had told him. He was very timid about the venture, but he must have something to eat right away.

Soon he was safe beside the big rock. Both the ducks were on the other side of the pond, so he felt much less afraid than he had been sure he was going to feel. He found the ants' nest under a bunch of tall grass. There was plenty for breakfast; there were enough ants for many frogs much bigger than he. He began to eat, all the time trying to keep hidden in the tall grass. He didn't mean to lose sight of those ducks. He had promised Grandmother Bull Frog he wouldn't. If one of them started to come his way, he would jump into the water and hide. The ants certainly tasted good. You know a good meal tastes much better when you are very hungry than when you are not much in need of food. He was so hungry and the ants tasted so good he got careless and forgot all about the ducks and his promise. One of the worst things people can do is to get careless. Many lives are lost because of carelessness. It nearly cost Bully his life.

He was busily eating ants when all at once out from behind the grass shot a big green head. It was a dreadful looking head. When Bully saw the wicked eyes he jumped as quickly as he could. He didn't have time to think which way to go. He just jumped and with all his might. When he landed he found himself near Mrs. Toad's rock. He heard a big, strong beak come together with a loud snap. My, but he shivered! It almost nipped his skin! He saw a hole under the rock, and went into it like a flash. Right behind him, just as he got inside the hole, snapped that big yellow beak again. For many days Bully could see those wicked eyes and hear the loud snap of that beak.

"Well, why are you rushing into my house so rudely?" came a voice from a dark corner.

"Oh, it's that dreadful duck!" Bully managed to say. He was shaking so he could hardly speak.

"Oh, don't talk to me," said Mrs. Toad crossly. "I'm just worried to death with those ducks!"

"Why are you worried?" asked Bully. "You are too big for them to eat. I don't see why you should be afraid."

"Who said I was afraid of them?" she asked. "It's my babies, not myself, I'm thinking about. What do you think those ducks are hanging around this rock for, if not for my children?"

"Why," said Bully in great surprise, "I didn't know you had any babies! I never saw them."

"Never saw them!" she repeated. "Well you must be blind if you can't see them! I can see them plainly enough from here, hopping about the rock or swimming in the water."

"Why, I thought those were little frogs," said Bully. "They look like frogs."

"They don't look like little frogs to their mother," replied Mrs. Toad. "I can tell every one of them. But to other people young toads always do look like little frogs," she said.

"Do you have any polly-wogs?" Bully asked.

"Of course I do," she replied, "hundreds and hundreds of them. Why do you suppose I came here to live?" she continued. "I hope you don't think it was on my own account! A fat old toad like me is safe any place. I came to the Frog Pond so I could raise a family. That's why I came here."

"How many children have you, Mrs. Toad?" asked Bully.

"I don't know," she answered. "Before those horrid ducks came I had about six thousand. Before the season is ended I hope to bring up ten thousand little toads. Of course I don't know how many are left. I've seen those ducks eat my babies until I'm discouraged. I haven't eaten a thing for a week. I am too worried to eat."

Bully was greatly surprised at what Mrs. Toad told him. "If you lay that many eggs, why are there so few toads in the world?" he asked.

"Well," she answered, "it's because snakes, turtles, birds, and many other creatures live on young toads. And in the water there are bugs that destroy many of the eggs. After a big rainfall I sometimes put my eggs in what looks like a good pond. But in a few days the sun draws all the water away, the pond is dry, and the eggs never hatch. It's certainly a very discouraging world we're living in. It's surely a hard place for a toad to try to raise a family. When I think of all the babies I have lost I am dreadfully downhearted. I don't see how I can bear to live any longer."

She bowed her head, covered her wet eyes with her hands, and croaked sadly. Bully felt very sorry for her. She seemed to have so much trouble. He wished he could say something to comfort her. It certainly was too bad. She was such a kind old toad. She never harmed anybody. Bully wondered why she had to have so many troubles.

"We hope John Bull Frog will be able to do something," he finally said.

"Well! I don't want to hear any more about what John Bull is going to do. If he can do anything, why doesn't he do it now? It's about time," Mrs. Toad answered.

"He says he will attend to the ducks when the right time comes," Bully told her.

"Will the right time be when all our babies are eaten?" she asked. "I'm down-right tired of hearing his name! Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do?" she sobbed.

"I must be going," said Bully sadly. "I can hear those ducks talking on the other side of the pond. I think it's safe now."

Then he went and told Grandmother Bull Frog what Mrs. Toad had said. "O, Grandmother," he cried, "why doesn't John Bull Frog do what he said he would?"

"I don't know," she replied. "We're all tired out waiting. It's very bad indeed!"

And Grandmother Frog, too, began to cry.

The days slipped slowly away. The people, big and little, in and about the pond were silent and sad—all except the ducks. They swam about, ate all the frogs they could hold, and were as happy as well-fed ducks could be. They hadn't anything to worry about, so why shouldn't they be happy? They thought they were very lucky to have found such a lovely spot in which to make a nest and raise a family. They made themselves perfectly at home in the Frog Pond. They liked the tall grasses and the quiet water. They loved this home better than any other they had ever had. It was so safe. Then there was such fine swimming and so much to eat. They could eat just as many frogs as they wanted.

The frogs watched them nearly all the time. They peeped slyly from under a big leaf or from behind a rock. They put their heads for a moment up out of the water and then dodged quickly back. In this way they were able to find out where the ducks were at any time of day. They thought it very hard that they must be so careful because all the time a great danger was always near at hand.

One bright morning after the ducks had lived there some time, the frogs who were watching closely saw Mrs. Duck throwing shells from the nest. Now and then she would quack softly. Mr. Duck and she both seemed very happy about something. Bully wondered what it could be. As the hours passed, still more shells were thrown out. Now the knowing old frogs seemed sadder and more worried than ever. "Things are getting worse here every day," he heard some one say. He looked around and saw several old bullfrogs near him watching Mrs. Duck. The frog who had spoken continued, "Now that duck will come from her nest in a day or two with a whole brood of babies. She will then take them to the water and they will eat all of our polly-wogs."

"It is very bad," said another frog. "I don't know what we shall do!"

"Do you suppose," said another, "that Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog can do anything?"

"Oh, I'm all out of patience with hearing about that!" was the answer. "If they can do anything, why haven't they done it before this? Now instead of two ducks we shall probably have a dozen of them. I just can't bear to think of those John Bull Frogs and their promises," he continued. "They have promised so much and have done so little. There they are now!"

Bully looked toward the bulrushes, and sure enough, there were Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog climbing up on their rock. They seemed very happy today—happier than he had ever seen them. They were both smiling as they watched the ducks. In fact, there was a broad grin on John Bull Frog's handsome face, as he nudged Mrs. John Bull Frog with his elbow and pointed toward Mrs. Duck and her family.

"Just look at them now," said an old frog. "I really believe they are laughing. Don't they know that their babies will disappear faster than ever now?"

"They don't seem to care for their babies," said a fat old frog. "The hard-hearted things, I wish they had never come here at all!"

Still more shells were thrown from the nest, and the ducks were quacking softly.

Bully heard some one crying. He looked around to see who it was. Mrs. Toad was sitting in her doorway sobbing, "Oh, my poor toadies, my poor little polly-wogs! What shall I do? What shall I do?"

There seemed to be nothing that she or anybody else could do. Everyone seemed downhearted and discouraged except Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog and those dreadful ducks. The frogs were very, very unhappy for the next day or two as they waited to see the ducks come from their nest.

At last, early one morning when the big bright round sun was just peeping through the treetops, and the dew on the grass around the Frog Pond was sparkling like thousands of tiny diamonds, Mrs. Duck stepped out of her nest, saying, "Quack, quack," very softly. Behind her toddled ten of the most beautiful little downy ducklings any mother could wish for. Mr. Duck walked with them to the edge of the pond to help Mrs. Duck get them into the water. He wanted to show them the nice young polly-wogs they were to have for breakfast, too. No one has to teach a little duck to swim any more than a young robin has to be taught to eat worms. A duckling seems to know all about swimming from the day he leaves the nest.

When the ducks were all in the water, the frogs who were watching on the opposite side of the pond saw Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog quietly slip into the pond and go out of sight. Then very soon they saw two of the little ducks suddenly disappear under the water. In a short time Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog climbed back on their rock. They looked a bit fatter and happier than when they went in. The frogs couldn't understand what made them seem so. And what had become of those two little ducks!

Mr. and Mrs. Duck didn't seem to notice that anything unusual had happened. After they had eaten their breakfast of young frogs and polly-wogs they left the Frog Pond. Mrs. Duck led her family back to the home nest and cuddled them snugly under her warm wings. There were really only eight left, but she didn't seem to notice. She is not very good at numbers.

The next morning all the frogs were smiling broadly. They knew now why Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog had looked so happy the day before. They gathered early on their bank of the Frog Pond to see if Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog would dare do the same thing they had done the day before. Sure enough, when the ducks were all swimming around in the water, the John Bulls slipped from their rock and disappeared.

The eyes of the frogs who were watching almost popped out of their heads from excitement. Pretty soon they saw two more little ducks go under the water with a jerk, just as had happened the day before. This time they heard one give a faint little quack. After a few moments Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog climbed back on their rock. They were smiling more broadly than ever and looked as if they had enjoyed a very good breakfast. This time Mrs. Duck seemed to notice that something was wrong, but she didn't know just what it was. Very soon she left the water with her babies. Six little ducks were all she had now. She looked around and quacked a few times. Then she sat down on the bank of the pond and called to the little ducks to come and get under her wings. She put her head first under one wing and then under the other as though she was trying to count her family. Perhaps she was!

The next day you may be sure every frog in the pond, as well as Mrs. Toad and even the tree frogs, gathered early on the banks to see the Duck family go down to the water for their morning swim. Every frog face wore a wide smile. Bully was full of joy, and even Mrs. Toad had wiped away her tears and was smiling a wee bit of a smile. But Mr. and Mrs. Duck didn't seem quite as happy as usual. They had a worried look. Their quacks sounded almost like a sob. The ducks and frogs in Rainbow Valley had begun to change places. A few days ago the ducks were happy and the frogs were sad. Now the frogs were ready to hold their sides with laughter and the ducks were looking troubled and frightened.

Mrs. Duck didn't start out as early as usual this morning. She kept looking this way and then that, and acted as though she were worried about something. No matter which way she looked about the pond, she could see nothing but frogs. They seemed to be everywhere, and each one seemed to be looking straight at her and her family. But surely, thought she, they can't harm me or my family. But she didn't seem to understand what the trouble was, or why all those frogs were sitting on the bank and watching her. Now where were those other little ducks? Surely she had more than these. But she couldn't answer any of these questions.

The little ducks under her wings began to quack softly. This meant they were hungry and wanted some breakfast. Her babies must be fed, and she knew of no food quite so good for them as polly-wogs. Why hadn't she fed them before? They ought to have had their breakfast long ago. As she thought this she got up and waddled slowly to the edge of the water, the little ducks following her eagerly. She watched carefully to see that no danger was near. She gathered them all around her for a few minutes and quacked softly to them. Then she led them down into the water. Soon they were having such a splendid time swimming happily about and eating their breakfast.

But all too soon Mrs. Duck and Mr. Duck, who had also come down to the water, heard two real loud little quacks. Now they really were worried. They left the water at once, but only four of their family toddled after them. They looked all about, and then looked at their babies, and all the time Mother Duck kept saying, "Quack, quack." She was surely calling, calling, calling those other dear downy babies of hers. But they had gone away and would never come back. Her voice shook as she called, and there was a big lump in her throat. Mr. Duck didn't say much. He didn't seem to be able to quack out loud. He just walked along after those four babies not looking at anything else.

It was much later than usual the next day when Mrs. Duck came back to the old Frog Pond to feed her four babies. She acted as if she did not want to go near the water. It was there she had lost her other downy babies. She waited about as long as she could. For some time the little ducks had been calling loudly for their breakfast. She had tucked them back under her wings and kept them there as long as she could. They kept saying they wanted to go to the pond and catch polly-wogs for breakfast. They were so very, very hungry. She told them they might leave the nest, but she did not like to start out with them.

She could see no danger, but somehow she was in great fear that morning. At last she left the nest, but she did not mean to let the four little ducks go near the water. But what did those naughty babies of hers do? As soon as she left the nest the little ducks ran ahead of her as fast as their short yellow legs would carry them. Then they plunged right into the water. Mrs. Duck ran after them, quacking softly at first, then louder and louder. She begged them to come back. Then she scolded them. But like all naughty children, they wouldn't mind her. They loved the water and the tender little polly-wogs. They were sure there was nothing to be afraid of. They thought anybody could see that. Why was mother making such a fuss? That is what they asked as they ate their breakfast.

It took Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog only a moment or two to gobble up two more little ducklings. This time the frogs who were watching heard two sharp, shrill little quacks. The father and mother ducks heard them too. Then they both began to quack wildly and swim frantically about. They hurried from the pond with only two downy ducklings following—all that was left of their lovely family. They ran up and down the shore ruffling their feathers and quacking loudly. But Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog climbed leisurely back to their place on the rock with a broad smirk on their faces and looking very fat and contented.

The two old ducks took their two babies and hurried off through the woods as fast as the ducklings could go, all the time looking back with eyes wide with fright. Bully followed as near as he dared, keeping out of sight. He met a Robin who said he would follow the ducks and then come back and tell him where they went. Late in the afternoon the Robin flew back and said the ducks had told him they were going far away, and never, never again would they be seen in that awful Frog Pond or in Rainbow Valley.

That night you may be sure the music in and about the old Frog Pond was wonderful. Every frog sang his loudest. Bully was so happy he could not sit still. He stood right up and danced a jig on his lily pad.

The next morning after the ducks went away, the sun looked down smilingly on the home of the happiest little people in all the world. The most joyful chorus ever heard rang out over the pond. Every frog, big and little, was hopping about singing lustily. The old bullfrogs sang in their deep bass voices, "Kerrump, ker-r-rump, rump, rump, rump, ker-rumpety, rump." Above them could be heard the high, clear tenor voices of the tree frogs as they sang, "Ker-rump, ker, ker-rump, ker-r-r-rumpety rump." And the young bullfrogs kept time with the others in the squeakiest of tones, saying, "Ker-ker, ker-rump, ker-ker, ker-rump." Even Mrs. Toad and the mother frogs, who, we know, haven't much music in them, were making a brave attempt to say, "Ker-rump."

A neighbor bobolink swinging on a tall cat-tail sang, "Bobolink, bobolink, spink, spank, spink." When the swaying cat-tail bent down near the water, Mr. Bobolink tipped way over as if about to fall off, and called, "Chee, chee, chee!" All the other little birds about the pond sang and sang until it seemed as if their tiny throats would burst.

The soft summer breezes whispered merrily through the tall, nodding treetops. The little flowers bowed and smiled to their neighbors. The pond lilies lifted their beautiful faces a little higher and trembled for joy. The tall cat-tails waved their handsome brown heads to show that they, too, were glad. Even the rocky old cliff beamed with happiness as he looked down on the beautiful little lake which lay shining in the morning sun. Every little creature seemed bubbling over with joy. Each one in his own way seemed to praise God and give thanks that he was alive and that his home was safe once more. Doesn't it seem strange that when the ducks were so happy the frogs were so miserable? Now the frogs were happier than they had ever been before, and the poor ducks were somewhere in the woods sighing and calling over and over again for their lost babies. Some folks just can't live happily together.

Mrs. House Frog came hurrying through the deep woods. Long before she reached the pond she had heard the singing of the frogs. She knew this must be the place the Lark had told her about. She panted a little as the frogs all crowded about her. Everyone wanted to know who she was, where she came from, and what she was like. Old Grandfather Bull Frog made them all stand back so she might have a chance to speak.

"I am called a house frog," she said, "and I came from a land far across the big ocean. It is the land of Australia. You can see I am not at all handsome. My clothes, although quite plain, are good for traveling. I find that as I look so much like the leaves I am not easily seen."

The frogs did not wait for Mrs. House Frog to tell any more of her story, as everyone was so anxious to tell her about the ducks and how the John Bull Frogs had driven them away. Near the edge of the crowd sat Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog smiling and looking greatly pleased with themselves. They were too modest to boast of what they had done, but it made them proud and happy to hear others tell it. Everybody was talking at once. There was such a chatter that Mrs. House Frog could hardly tell what they were saying. Even old Blackie the Crow was screaming, "Caw, caw, caw," right over their heads. He too, was trying to tell the exciting story. Grandfather Bull Frog shook his wise old head at so much noise. He clapped his hands loudly. Standing up, he beckoned to the crowd, calling for order in deep bass tones. Soon he was able to quiet the frogs. When they stopped talking and their eyes were fixed on him, he turned to Mrs. House Frog with a kindly smile on his handsome old face and said real politely and with a graceful bow, "Mrs. House Frog, you may, if you like, live under the old log just over there."

Looking toward where he pointed, Mrs. House Frog said very pleasantly that she would be delighted to have such a fine home. Bully was very happy when he heard this, for he felt that he would like Mrs. House Frog, and he was glad her home was to be where he could see her often. He went with her to her new house, and while she was resting asked her to tell him why she was called a house frog.

After a few moments Mrs. House Frog said:

"A few years ago a man and his wife, who were called missionaries, came to my country and built a nice little house near the place where Mr. House Frog and I lived. We didn't know for a long, long time why they were called missionaries. Mr. House Frog and I used to wonder what such a big word meant. One Sunday we heard the man explaining to the children that they were called missionaries because they were sent on a mission to tell people about God. We could hear everything he was saying, for the meeting was held under a big tree in the yard and we were sitting on a limb right over the children's heads.

"We hid in this tree each day and watched the missionaries build their house. We could see them saw the boards and put them in place by driving big nails into them with a heavy hammer. How they did work! From the first time we saw them Mr. House Frog and I liked the looks of those people, so we made up our minds to live in that new house, too.

"A few days after they moved in, as we were climbing about and looking over the outside of the house, we found a small hole up under the eaves. Just as soon as it was dark we packed up and moved in too, going through this hole. My, but it was splendid! It was so new and clean. That night we went through the whole house, even the cupboards and closets. After we had looked into every nook and corner we decided to sleep during the day under a box in a corner of the kitchen. They used this box as a stand for their water pail, and there must have been a tiny hole in the pail, for the water trickled down just enough to suit us.

"We lived there some time before we were found out. We had a splendid time every night, and got sleek and fat from helping ourselves to all the good things we could find. But one day the woman found out that the water pail was leaking, so she moved the box. We were having a nice nap when suddenly we awoke and, looking up, saw her bending over us. Of course we jumped as quickly as possible. The woman was badly startled and screamed loudly. Her husband came running to see what was the matter. When he saw what had frightened her, he laughed and said, 'It is nothing but two harmless frogs.' He took the broom and swept us outdoors. This didn't worry us in the least, for that night we got into the house again through our private door up near the roof.

"A few nights after this I chased a fat beetle up the table leg. As he was rushing across the top of the table I almost nabbed him, but he dodged around a glass of milk which stood on the table. As I jumped round the other side of the glass to head him off, I knocked the glass over and it rolled to the floor with a loud crash. The milk ran all over the tablecloth and trickled down on the floor. My, but I was upset! That glass made such a racket I forgot all about the beetle and gave a big jump. I landed under the stove, where I hid.

"Well, you should have heard those people! This time they were both frightened. I could see their faces plainly from where I sat under the stove. They were both pale, as I saw by the light of the lamp they carried. From what they said they seemed to think a man had got in the house. I kept still and trembled while they peered about and poked the lamp into all the dark corners. I was glad to keep out of sight, you may be sure.

"A few nights after this I made another mistake and they found me again. As I was wandering about, I saw a water pitcher on the dining table. Finding its nose nice and damp, I decided to sleep on it all the next day. In the morning, after I had just dropped off into a sound sleep, the family rose, and when breakfast was ready the woman came, took up the pitcher, and poured a glass of water. I woke up just as I went into the glass with the water. She was talking and laughing and did not see me until she raised the glass to her lips to drink. Giving a faint little 'O horrors!' she dropped the glass to the floor and sank into a chair. Her husband sprang up and, seeing me, laughed and laughed. Then he took the broom and quickly swept me outdoors. 'Just think,' I heard her say, 'I might have drunk that frog!' The man kept on laughing until she, too, saw how funny it was and laughed merrily. Now I was outside and Mr. House Frog was inside. I didn't mind this, as I knew well where our door was, and that I could get back in.

"It was some time before they found us again. We had grown careless, and one night when playing hide-and-seek, chasing each other over the wall, we both saw a large bug which we had frightened from behind one of the pictures. He ran up the wall and began to walk across the ceiling as fast as he could go. I was close behind him and Mr. House Frog a little way behind me. I thought I was near enough to grab the bug, when suddenly he dodged to one side. In trying to turn myself about as he had done, I slipped and fell. Mr. House Frog, when he saw me fall, was so frightened he, too, slipped and fell.

"We had been so busy chasing the bug we didn't notice we were directly over where the people of the house were sleeping. When I fell I hit the woman squarely in the face, and Mr. House Frog went down slap in the man's face. They both sprang from the bed, and the woman screamed and screamed. Finally she fainted and fell to the floor. The man picked her up and laid her on the bed. After awhile she moaned, 'Oh, those awful frogs! I know I shall die if you don't kill them.'

"'I can't kill them,' the man told her, 'but in the morning I will carry them a long way off and leave them.'

"He did as he said he would. He put us into a closed box and took us a half-day's journey into the country. As he let us go he said, 'Now, you little rascals, you will bother us no more!'

"When he had gone, we made up our minds to go back as soon as we could. That house suited us to a T. We promised ourselves we would never again be so careless. It was a long, tiresome journey, but we didn't mind it. We got to the house about dusk, tired and hungry. We saw the folks were eating supper, as we once more peeped through that little hole under the eaves. We saw some crumbs fall to the floor as they ate, and as we were so very hungry we decided to go down very quietly, hide under the table, and have our supper at once. We got as far as the man's chair when all of a sudden he tipped back and raised the front legs of the chair from the floor. Just then a nice soft crumb fell from his knee. Mr. House Frog sprang to get it, when down came the front legs of the chair on him and crushed him. Oh," shuddered Mrs. House Frog, "it was dreadful, dreadful! His eyes bulged out of his head and his tongue hung from his mouth. I was so frightened I could not move. Oh, Oh," she shuddered, "I can't bear to think of it. It was so very, very dreadful!" Mrs. House Frog covered her eyes with her little hands and shook with sobs, while Bully looked on, his little heart filled with pity.

After some time she lifted her hands from her eyes and said, "I saw the man looking at Mr. House Frog, and the woman crying and saying, 'How terrible! Here are those poor little frogs back again. I am so sorry, so sorry!' Now she didn't seem at all afraid, only very, very sorry for us. The man picked me up in his big, warm hands and said, 'You poor little thing! You know I didn't mean to hurt you.' Of course I knew he was not to blame, but I couldn't tell him so.

"They took Mr. House Frog out and buried him, and the woman said I should always live with them. She said never again would she be so silly as to be afraid of me. Well, I lived there a long time. Then one day the woman began to put their things into trunks and boxes. I knew something was going to happen. Seeing me, the man picked me up and said, 'You shall go with us, Froggie. You have stood by us so long.'

"They packed me in soft mud, and I slept for many days. I was awakened by a boy who had spilled the mud on the ground. Several people were near us, and I learned by their conversation that we had crossed the great ocean and were now in a strange land. The man had died at sea and the woman was going to the mountains. 'I shall have this frog for my pet,' said the boy. How I learned to dislike that boy! He poked me with sticks. He threw dirt at me when I tried to sing. He kept me in a pen where I had not enough to eat.

"Do you wonder that when I found a small hole in the pen I squeezed through it and hurried away as fast as I could? After going a little way I saw a Lark hopping about looking for his breakfast. I was so sad and lonely I went right over and spoke to him. I told him all my troubles, and that I did not know where to go in this big strange land.

"The Lark told me all about this beautiful place. It made me want to come here at once. I am glad I came, for it is very beautiful. I am sure I shall like to live here."

Just as the sinking sun began to drop his dark curtain over the Frog Pond, and the beautiful moon lifted her fair face in the east, a strange frog came out of the woods and hopped toward the pond.

"Ker-r-rump," called an old bullfrog very loudly. On hearing this, frogs could be seen coming from almost every direction. Soon there was a great crowd around the stranger. They began all at one time asking her questions. Grandfather Frog told them to be quiet and give her a chance to speak for herself.

"I have come a long way," said the stranger. "My home is in the far-off land of Brazil. I was happy there and wished for no better place to live. One day a man came along, and then all my life was changed. He caught my mate and me in a net and brought us away to this big country. Here he put us in a tiny lake that was in a small park. We lived there only a short time when one evening, as I was busy building a nest, an owl swooped down from the sky. Before I knew he was near he had seized me with his big feet and swiftly carried me away. 'Oh, dear,' I thought, 'this will surely be the last of me, for he is taking me to his nest as food for his babies.'

"The owl flew a long distance. But as we were passing over a farmhouse a man came to the door and shot him. He flew on a little way before he fell, keeping fast hold of me until we reached the ground.

"I was not badly hurt, but I was very much frightened. When I heard the children coming to get the dead owl, I hid under the edge of a big stone and I stayed there for a couple of days. Then I decided that I would see if I could get back to the pond where I had left my mate. As I was slowly hopping along, a Lark lit near me and asked where I was going. I soon told him how the owl had snapped me up and carried me away, and how anxious I was to get back home. 'Why not go to the Frog Pond?' he asked. 'There are no owls there.' He told me all about this place, but I said, 'I must first go for my mate.'

"'Oh, go right on to the Frog Pond,' said the Lark. 'I will look your husband up and tell him where to find you. He can come by himself as well as not.' This seemed after all the best plan, so here I am."

Grandfather Bull Frog told her he was very glad she had come directly to the pond. He asked her where she would like to live. A tree would suit her best, she said, as she had spent most of her time in Brazil in a tree.

"Before I choose my tree," she told them, "I had better make my nest, as it is getting so late in the season. It is time my polly-wogs were hatching."

"Do you make your own nest?" Mrs. Toad asked her.

"Of course I do," she said. "I thought all frogs did that. Our family always do."

"Where will you make it?" Grandmother Bull Frog asked her.

"If you don't mind," she answered, "I should like this shallow place in the edge of the pond."

As no one objected, she jumped into the water and disappeared. In a short time the frogs crowded on the shore saw her two hands come up filled with mud. She chose a spot where she carefully placed the mud, then disappeared again. Soon she came up with more mud and placed it near the first bit. Many times the little hands disappeared and came up loaded with mud, which was carefully placed with the other.

By and by the frogs saw that the nest began to look round like a circle. Then pretty soon the mud wall became so high the builder had to bring her head and shoulders out of the water in order to put the mud in the right place.

Not a frog croaked. They were all too much taken up with what she was doing to spend time in that way.

After she had worked for some time she stopped and, looking around, said, "It's pretty hard work lifting and shaping so much mud!"

"Don't you think you should have waited until your mate was here?" asked Grandmother. "He could have helped you."

"I should say not!" said the stranger. "You don't know him. He is the laziest frog you ever saw. He never helps me build my nest. He just doesn't enjoy working. I always have to make the nest myself. Of course he is a dear fellow and I'm fond of him," she said hastily, "but he just won't work."

Then she went on with her nest, lifting handful after handful of mud from the bottom of the lake and piling it up on the round wall. When the wall was about four inches high and twelve inches across, she smoothed the inside with her hands, and then rubbed the bottom of the nest and the lower part of the wall with the underside of her body and feet. She paid no attention to the outside of the wall. That was left rough and uneven.

When she had finished her nest it looked like a mud bowl half full of water sitting in the pool. "Here," she said, as she climbed on the bank, "is where I shall place my eggs. I can then keep an eye on the polly-wogs and see that nothing harms them. They cannot get out of the nest."

Of course all the frogs had to see that nest. And every one of them said that it was most wonderfully made.

"You see," she said, as she showed them her hands, "all my fingers are largest on the ends. That is why I can handle the mud so well. Now I must have something to eat," she said as she began to look around for insects. "It gives one an appetite to work so hard."

As the frogs hopped away everyone was saying, "That is truly a wonderful nest!" Many of the mother frogs sighed and wished for one as good.

"Caw, caw, caw!" cried a black Crow as he lit in the top of a tall old tree. "Caw, caw, caw!" he cried again as he flew across the Frog Pond and lit in a tree on the opposite shore. No one paid the least bit of attention to him, so he flew over the pond and lit on the old limb that reached out over Grandfather's island. Flapping his wings, he again cried loudly, "Caw, caw, caw!"

The frogs paid no attention to the Crow because he came often to the Frog Pond and called to them from the treetops. Maybe he did this because he thought he was a better singer than the frogs. Another reason why they did not notice him might have been because it was early twilight and everyone was busy hunting his supper.

"Caw, caw, caw!" he cried. "News, news, news! Listen to the news I have to tell you!"

"What's the matter with you? Have you gone crazy?" asked Golden Tree Frog as he came hurrying along the limb to the place where the crow was perched.