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Updated: May 27, 2025
At four o'clock she laid down her pen, pushed her manuscript into the waste-basket, and faced her room-mate defiantly. "What do I care about Shakspere, the man? He's been dead three hundred years." Priscilla laughed unfeelingly. "What do I care about a frog's nervous system, for the matter of that? But I am writing an interesting monograph on it, just the same."
The fact was, Great-grandfather Frog's mouth wasn't wide enough. It was bad enough not to be able to swallow all of that fish, but what was worse was the discovery that he couldn't get up again what he had swallowed. That fish was stuck! It would go neither down nor up. "Poor Great-grandfather Frog was in a terrible fix. Big tears rolled down his cheeks.
Let's ride on the frog, Cap'n." "Right you are, mate," he replied, and although he shook a bit with fear, the old man at once began to climb to the frog's back. Trot seated herself on one side of him and Button-bright on the other, and the sailor put his arms around them both to hold them tight together. "Are you ready?" asked the frog. "Ding-dong!" cried the parrot. "All aboard, let 'er go!
"Why, so says I, young master, but, ye see, beef an' mutton, ducks an' chicken, an' sich, ain't good enough for your Nobs nowadays, oh no! They must dewour larks wi' gusto, and French hortolons wi' avidity, and wi' a occasional leg of a frog throw'd in for a relish though, to be sure, a frog's leg ain't over meaty at the best o' times.
"They are a queer lot of babies, and very interesting to watch if you've got the time for it. I haven't. This Smiling Pool is a great kindergarten, and there's something happening here every minute. There's no place like it." "Are those great big fat pollywogs Grandfather Frog's children, or Old Mr. Toad's?" asked Peter. "Grandfather Frog's last year's children," replied Jerry.
Crow's!" After that Bobby Bobolink felt better. He knew that his wife was particular. And if she said he looked all right then he was sure he could have no cause to be uneasy. "It must be only Mr. Frog's queer eyes," he said to Mrs. Bobolink. "I've been thinking that he saw something strange about me. But I must be mistaken." Nevertheless, the very next time Bobby met Mr.
While my mate and I were thus engaged, the former happened to cast a look out of the cabin windows, which were open on account of the warmth of the weather, and offered no obstruction to a long view of the ocean directly in our wake. "Halloo, Miles!" Marble exclaimed; "by Jove, we are chased! Such is the secret of Mr. Frog's being so much alive this fine morning.
At the sound one of the young herons would hurry forward eagerly; follow his mother's bill, which remained motionless, pointing all the while; twist his head till he saw the frog's back in the mud, and then lunge at it like lightning. Generally he got his frog, and through your glass you would see the unfortunate creature wriggling and kicking his way into Quoskh's yellow beak.
Now came the elephants, lumbering along on velvet feet. On the second one there crouched a figure that somehow seemed strangely familiar to Phil Forrest. The figure was made up to represent a huge frog. A peculiar gesture of one of the frog's legs revealed the identity of the figure beneath the mask. "Teddy!" howled Phil.
Cricket Frog puffed out his yellow throat and began to sing. And he gave Chirpy Cricket a great surprise. For his singing was so like Chirpy's fiddling that Chirpy thought for a moment he was making the sound himself. But there was one marked difference. Mr. Cricket Frog's time was not like his. It was not regular. Mr.
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