The Tale of Ferdinand Frog Part 1

The Tale of Ferdinand Frog.

by Arthur Scott Bailey.

I

PRETTY AS A PICTURE

There was something about Ferdinand Frog that made everybody smile. It may have been his amazingly wide mouth and his queer, bulging eyes, or perhaps it was his sprightly manner--for one never could tell when Mr.

Frog would leap into the air, or turn a somersault backward. Indeed, some of his neighbors claimed that he himself didn't know what he was going to do next--he was so _jumpy_.

Anyhow, all the wild folk in Pleasant Valley agreed that Ferdinand Frog was an agreeable person to have around. No matter what happened, he was always cheerful. n.o.body ever heard of his losing his temper, though to be sure he was sometimes the means of other peoples losing theirs. But let a body be as angry as he pleased with Mr. Frog, Mr. Frog would continue to smile and smirk.

Of course, such extreme cheerfulness often made angry folk only the more furious, especially when the whole trouble was Ferdinand Frog's own fault. But it made no difference to him what blunder he had made. He was always ready to make another--and smile at the same time.

Really, he was so good-natured that n.o.body could feel peevish towards him for long. In fact, he was a great favorite--especially among the ladies. Whenever he met one of them--it might be the youngest of the Rabbit sisters, or old Aunt Polly Woodchuck--he never failed to make the lowest of bows, smile the broadest of smiles, and inquire after her health.

That was Ferdinand Frog--known far and wide for his elegant manners.

Every young lady declared that he wore exquisite clothes, too; and many of them secretly thought him quite good-looking.

But people as old as Aunt Polly Woodchuck seldom take heed of what a person wears. As for Mr. Frog's looks, since Aunt Polly believed that "handsome is as handsome does," she admitted that Ferdinand Frog was--as she put it--"purty as a picter."

When Ferdinand Frog heard that, he was so delighted that he hurried straight home and put on his best suit. And then he spent most of a whole afternoon smiling at his reflection in the surface of the Beaver pond, where he was living at the time.

So it is easy to see that Ferdinand Frog was a vain and silly fellow. He was even foolish enough to repeat Aunt Polly's remark to everybody he chanced to meet that night, and the following day as well.

There was no one who could help grinning at Ferdinand Frog's news--he looked so comical. And old Mr. Crow, who was noted for his rudeness, even burst out with a hoa.r.s.e _haw-haw_.

"You're pretty as a picture, eh?" he chuckled. "I suppose Aunt Polly means that you're as pretty as one of the pictures that the circus men have pasted on Farmer Green's barn. . . . I believe----" he added, as he stared at Ferdinand Frog----"I believe I know which one Aunt Polly means."

"Is that so?" cried Mr. Frog, swelling himself up--through pride--until it seemed that he must burst. "Oh, which picture is it?"

"It's the one in the upper left-hand corner," old Mr. Crow informed him solemnly. "And if you haven't yet seen it, you should take a good look at it soon."

"I will!" Ferdinand Frog declared. "I'll visit Farmer Green's place this very night!"

And he opened his mouth and smiled so widely that old Mr. Crow couldn't help shuddering--though he knew well enough that Ferdinand Frog could never swallow anyone as big as he was.

II

THE DANGERS OF TRAVEL

It was a long way to Farmer Green's from the Beaver pond where Ferdinand Frog made his home. But he felt that he simply _must_ see that picture which Mr. Crow said looked like him. So he started out just before sunset.

One thing, at least, about his journey pleased him: he could make the trip by water--and he certainly did hate travelling on land.

Luckily the stream that trickled its way below the Beaver dam led straight to Swift River. And everybody who knew anything was aware that Swift River ran right under the bridge not far from the farmhouse.

So Mr. Frog leaped spryly into the brook and struck out downstream.

He was a famous swimmer, having been used to the water from the time he was a tadpole. And now he swam so fast, with the help of the current, that he reached the river by the time the moon was up.

As he looked up at the sky Ferdinand Frog was both glad and sorry that there was a moon that night. The moon would be a good thing, provided he reached the end of his journey, for it would give him a fine clear view of the picture on the barn, which he so much wanted to see. On the other hand, he would have preferred a dark night for a swim in Swift River.

There were fish there--pickerel--which would rather swallow him than not. And he knew that they were sure to be feeding by the light of the moon.

If Mr. Frog hadn't always looked on the bright side of life no doubt he would have waited a week or two, until there was no moon at all. But he remarked to himself with a grin, as he hurried along, that he had never yet seen the pickerel that was quick enough to catch him, and furthermore, he never expected to.

But those words were hardly out of Ferdinand Frog's mouth when he turned and made for the bank as fast as he could go. He had caught sight of a dark, long-nosed fish lying among some weeds. And he decided suddenly that he would finish his journey by land.

"It would be a shame----" he told himself, as he flopped up the steep bank----"it would be a shame for so handsome a person as I am to be eaten by a fish."

"But you wouldn't object to a bird, would you?" said a voice right in Ferdinand Frog's ear--or so it seemed to him.

He made no answer--not even stopping to bow, or say good evening--but turned a somersault backward and hid himself under the overhanging bank.

It was Solomon Owl who had spoken to him. There was no mistaking the loud, mocking laughter that followed Mr. Frog's hasty retreat.

"Solomon Owl is a great joker," Mr. Frog murmured with a smile. "He was only teasing me. . . . Still, he might be a bit hungry. So I'll stay here out of harm's way for a while, for it would be a shame for so handsome a person as I am to be eaten by an old, rascally bird like Solomon Owl."

One can judge, just by that remark, that Ferdinand Frog was not quite so polite as his neighbors supposed--_when there was no one to hear what he said_.

III

MR. FROG'S DOUBLE

Mr. Frog waited until it was broad daylight before he left his hiding place beneath the bank of the river. He knew that by that time Solomon Owl must have gone home to his hemlock tree to get his rest. So Ferdinand Frog felt quite safe again.

Having made up his mind that he would finish his journey to Farmer Green's place by land, he started briskly across the cornfield, travelling in a straight line between two rows of young corn.

He had not gone far before a hoa.r.s.e voice called to him. But this time he was not alarmed.

It was only old Mr. Crow, who seemed greatly pleased to see him.

"Hullo, young fellow!" said Mr. Crow. "If you're on your way to the barn to look at that picture, I'll fly over there myself, because I'd like to see it again."

"Aren't you afraid of meeting Farmer Green?" Ferdinand Frog asked him.

"Afraid?" Mr. Crow snorted. "Certainly not! We're the best of friends.

He set up this straw man here, just to keep me company. . . . Besides,"

he went on, "at this time o' day Farmer Green is inside the barn, milking the cows. And we'll be outside it, looking at the circus pictures."