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Pandemonium reigned as the trap tightened. But no fish broke surface or collided against the hidden legs. At last the chief fisherman entered the trap. He waded around everywhere, carefully. But there were no fish boiling up and out upon the sand. There was not a sardine, not a minnow, not a polly- wog.
"I was asleeb and when I wog, I was wit rope tied." "Who cut the rope?" asked Dr. Hume, beginning to doubt the whole story. "A gentlemans who mag to play music on the zither." "Phoebe's father!" exclaimed the girls. They glanced at each other with a wild surmise. "It couldn't have been " "No, no, I'm sure he never would " "Hush," said Ben, "here comes Phoebe."
Frisky Frog changed the chorus for her little ones because she knew well enough that her pollywogs never slept at night. At least I never saw any asleep at night of all those who swarm in black clumps there on the edge of Shiner's Pond in the moonlight. But I have not told you yet how Mrs. Frisky Frog sang the chorus. Wiggle wog Woggle wig Sing my pollywog A tune to every jig.
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