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Updated: June 8, 2025
So Buddy got up to home plate, which was a flat stone, you know, and he held his bat ready to knock the ball out of sight, if possible. Bawly threw him a nice, easy ball, and Buddy struck at it. He hit, too, which is better. Oh! such a hit as he gave that ball! It's a good thing balls don't have feelings, I think, or bats either, for that matter.
It wasn’t quite finished, and, in fact, up on the roof was Uncle Wiggily Longears, the old gentleman rabbit, putting on the shingles to keep out the rain if it came. “Oh, hello, Uncle Wiggily!” called Bawly, joyfully. “Hello,” answered the rabbit carpenter. “You are just in time, Bawly. Would you mind handing me my hammer? It slipped and fell to the ground.”
At first Bawly couldn’t tell what it was, and then, to his surprise, he saw that the boy had caught Jollie Longtail, the nice little mousie boy, about whom I once told you. “Ah ha! Now I have you!” cried the boy to the mouse. “You went in the feed box in my father’s barn, and I have caught you.” “Oh, but I only took the least bit of corn,” said Jollie Longtail.
To-day I promised Peetie and Jackie Bow Wow I’d come over and play ball with them.” So Bully went to play ball, with the puppy dogs, and Bawly went hunting, after his mamma had said that he might, and had told him to be careful. “I’ll put up a little lunch for you,” she said, “so you won’t get hungry hunting mosquitoes in the woods.”
And, in order that he would not be lonesome, Bawly and Bully No-Tail, the frog boys, sat near him, and read him funny things from their school books, or the paper, and Grandpa Croaker was very thankful to them.
“Wouldn’t it be just as well if I pretended to walk behind you, and still stayed up front here, beside you?” asked Bawly, looking behind him. “Oh, I guess so,” answered his brother. So the two frog boys, who looked just like Indians, went on side by side though the woods. They looked all around them for something to capture, but all that they saw was an old lady hoptoad, going home from market.
Bully looked all around to see what the noise was. “For it might be that alligator, or the Pelican bird,” he whispered to himself. Just then he heard a jolly laugh, and his brother Bawly hopped out from under a cabbage leaf. “Did I scare you, Bully?” asked Bawly, as he scratched his right ear with his left foot. “A little,” said Bully, turning a somersault to get over being frightened.
Just then they heard both the old animal gentlemen squealing inside the house, for the alligator was squeezing them. “They’re alive! They’re still alive!” cried Bawly. “We must save them!” “How?” asked Bully. “Let’s build a fire under the alligator’s tail,” suggested Bawly. “He can’t see us, for his head is inside the room.”
Lions and tigers and elephants, and men jumping in the air, and horses and—and—” Bawly had to stop for breath then, and so he couldn’t say any more. Neither could Bully. Oh, but they were excited, let me tell you. “May we go?” they both cried out again. “Well, I’ll see,” began their mother slowly. “I don’t know—”
Now the following story will be about Buddy on horseback that is, providing no cats get into our coalbin to scratch the furnace and make it go out. One night Buddy Pigg's mamma came into his room, where he was sleeping soundly and dreaming he was playing a ball game with Bully and Bawly, the frogs, and Mrs. Pigg gently shook her little boy by the shoulder. "Wake up, Buddy!" she called. "Wake up!"
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