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"Goody!" cried Peter and Johnny Chuck together, sitting down side by side on the very edge of the bank. Grandfather Frog folded his hands across his white and yellow waistcoat and half closed his eyes, as if looking way, way back into the past. "Chug-a-rum!" he began. "A long, long time ago, when the world was young, there was very little dry land, and most of the animals lived in the water.
You don't mean to say so! Chug-a-rum! You don't mean to say so, Peter!" interrupted Grandfather Frog, pretending to be very much surprised at what Peter said. Peter grinned and wrinkled his nose at Grandfather Frog. "Yes," said he, "Old Mother Nature knows a great deal more than I do, but it seems to me as if she had made a mistake in giving Sammy Jay such a handsome coat.
Coyote had to do when he wanted to frighten some one bigger and stronger than himself was to open his mouth and send forth his new voice, which sounded like many voices. "So he had plenty to eat from that time on. And all his children and his children's children had that same wonderful voice, just as Old Man Coyote has now. Chug-a-rum!
"Reddy, Reddy, smart and sly, Couldn't catch a buzzing fly!" taunted Peter. "Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog in his deepest, gruffest voice. "We know all about that. What we want to know is what Little Joe Otter has got on his mind." "It's news great news!" cried Little Joe. "We can tell better how great it is when we hear what it is," replied Grandfather Frog testily. "What is it?"
Peter hurried away to tell all the little meadow and forest people, and the next afternoon they were all on hand on the bank of the Smiling Pool to hear the story about Bobby Coon's tail. "Chug-a-rum!" began Grandfather Frog, smoothing down his white and yellow waistcoat. "Chug-a-rum! Some folks seem to think that what they do doesn't matter to anybody but themselves. That was the way with old Mr.
His eyes twinkled as Peter and Johnny very politely wished him good morning. "Good morning," said he gruffly. But Peter had seen that twinkle in his eyes and knew that Grandfather Frog was feeling good-natured in spite of his gruff greeting. "If you please, Grandfather Frog, why doesn't Mr. Greensnake wink at us when we wink at him?" he asked. "Chug-a-rum!
"Chug-a-rum!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog. "Chug-a-rum! Not half so crazy as you are, Peter, coming over here to the Smiling Pool in broad daylight. He likes to be thought crazy, just as his great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather did before him, that's all. Everybody thought his great-great-ever-so-great-grandfather was crazy, and it paid Mr. Loon to have them think so.
"Paddy the Beaver has one of the most useful tails I know of. Would you like to know how he comes by such a queer tail?" "Oh, if you please! If you please, Grandfather Frog! I didn't suppose there was such a queer tail in all the world, and I don't see what possible use it can be. Do tell me about it!" cried Peter. "Chug-a-rum!
"Chug-a-rum," said Grandfather Frog, "those were sad days, sad days indeed for Mr. Owl. He couldn't hunt for his meals by day, for the light blinded him. At night he could see but little in the darkness. So he got little to eat and he grew thinner and thinner and thinner until he was but a shadow of his former self. He was always hungry, was Mr. Owl, always hungry.
But he is too old and too wise to lose his temper for long over a joke, especially when he has been fairly caught trying to play a joke himself. So presently he climbed back on to his big green lily-pad, blinking his great, goggly eyes and looking just a wee bit foolish. "Chug-a-rum!
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