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“Oh, mamma, may we go?” exclaimed Bawly No-Tail one day as he came home from school, and hopped into the house with such a big hop, that he hopped right up into the frog lady’s lap. “Go where?” asked Bawly’s mother, wondering if the alligator were after her son. “Oh, do please let us go!” cried Bully, hopping in after his brother.
So Bawly hopped out, and Grandpa Croaker, who was asleep in the rocking chair didn’t hear him go. Anyhow, I don’t believe the old gentleman frog would have cared, for Bawly’s papa was at work in the wallpaper factory and his mamma had gone to the five and ten cent store to buy a new dishpan that didn’t have a hole in it.
“I do!” went on Papa No-Tail, hopping a bit nearer. “You shall never eat her as long as I am alive!” “And who are you, if I may be so bold as to ask,” went on the bear, stopping so he could laugh. “I am the brave Mr. No-Tail, who works in the wallpaper factory, but I can’t work to-day as the bad Pelican bird took the ink,” replied Bully’s and Bawly’s papa.
Why he picked up the very piece of wallpaper that was wrapped around Papa Chip-Chip—Oh, no, excuse me! I mean Papa No-Tail. Yes, the man picked up that roll, with Bully’s and Bawly’s papa inside, and away he went with it, and the old gentleman frog was still sound asleep.
Then the janitor, being a kind man, got a ladder and helped Bawly down, and the fox, very much disappointed, limped away, and didn’t eat the frog boy after all. “But you must never try to jump over a steeple again,” said Bawly’s mamma when he told her about it, after he got home with the lemons, and found Bully there ahead of him with the sugar.
As for the other frog boy, Bawly’s brother Bully, he had gone after an ice cream cone, I think, or maybe a chocolate candy. On Bawly hopped, but he didn’t meet any of his friends.
“Oh, pooh!” cried the frog boy. “I can, of course. You’re only a girl.” Well, would you ever believe it? When Bawly and Lulu were out on the shore of the pond and had thrown their stones, Lulu’s went ever so much farther than did Bawly’s. Oh! she was a good thrower, Lulu was! “Well, anyhow, I can beat you jumping!” cried Bawly. “Now, let’s try that game.”
Oh, if only there was a fireman or a policeman in the woods, I’d tell him, and he’d hit the alligator, and make him go away. But there isn’t a policeman or a fireman here!” Then the alligator started to swim away with poor Bawly, to take him off to his deep, dark, dismal den, when, all of a sudden, Sammie happened to think of the two willow whistles he had—his own and Bawly’s.
Into the water they popped, and each one took a big drink. “Well, now you’ve done it!” cried Grandpa Croaker, as he leaned on his shovel and looked at his two grandsons. “Why, what is the matter?” asked Bully, splashing some water on Bawly’s nose. “Yes. All we did was to jump down here,” added Bawly. “What’s wrong?”
If you haven’t done so, please get your papa to make you a soldier hat. Well, finally Bawly’s hat was finished, and he put a feather in it, just as Yankee Doodle did, only Bawly didn’t look like macaroni. “Now, I’ll go out and see if I can find the boys and we’ll pretend there’s a war, and a battle, and shooting and all that,” went on the frog chap, who loved to do exciting things.
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