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Updated: June 23, 2025
After recovering his breath, James sat up and listened attentively. Once or twice he thought he heard the sound of a dip of a paddle, out on the lake, but he could not be sure of it; while from time to time he heard the croak of a frog, sometimes near, sometimes at a distance along the shore.
So day by day the dam grew, and the pond grew, and then one morning Grandfather Frog, down in what had once been the Smiling Pool, heard a sound that made his heart jump for joy. It was a murmur that kept growing and growing, until at last it was the merry laugh of the Laughing Brook. Then he knew that Paddy had kept his word and water would once more fill the Smiling Pool.
Therefore his Christ, the centre of all those earnest eyes, is contracted to a shape in which humanity itself is mean, a sprawling figure which irresistibly reminds one of a frog.
Frog shook his head again. "I don't do business that way," he explained. "As soon as I've finished a suit I throw away the stone on which I've written the measurements. It saves trouble, if there's any complaint afterwards." "Well!" said Brownie. "What can we do about this? I can't wear the trousers as they are." "You'll have to get your legs stretched," Mr. Frog told him.
Fox for one," answered the Frog, "and if my eyes don't deceive me there's one in the bushes waiting to eat you. If you'll excuse me, I'll take a dive. I've known Mr. Fox to eat frogs when he was very hungry." There was a flop in the water, and the bullfrog disappeared from sight. Bumper reared up on his hind legs and looked around him.
But it felt all the better for that, and Grandfather Frog just closed his eyes and floated there in pure happiness. Presently he opened his eyes to look around. Then he blinked them rapidly for a minute or so. He rubbed them to make sure that he saw aright. His heart seemed to sink way, way down towards his toes. "Chugarum!" exclaimed Grandfather Frog, "Chugarum!"
"'But what is the matter? persisted the little brown bird, as more green tears splashed beside her. "'The matter is that I am a frog, I suppose, said Arthur, rather rudely. "'Well, what of that? still said the little bird. 'Frogs are very respectable. "'Are they, indeed; then I'd rather not be respectable, said Arthur. "'You shock me, said the bird.
Some one said, then or later, that Mark Twain leaped into fame on the back of a jumping frog. Curiously, this did not at first please the author. He thought the tale poor. To his mother he wrote: I do not know what to write; my life is so uneventful. I wish I was back there piloting up and down the river again. Verily, all is vanity and little worth save piloting.
Then he took up the coat and went and found his youngest sister, the mouse. He told her of his troubles, and how the frog had so badly done her work. Then he showed the mouse how he wanted the coat to be sewed. His little sister felt badly for her big brother, and so she set to work and with great care sewed all the pieces together in their right places.
She did this, but it was easy to see that she did not do it willingly. The frog enjoyed what he ate, but almost every mouthful she took choked her. At length he said, "I have eaten and am satisfied; now I am tired, carry me into thy little room and make thy little silken bed ready, and we will both lie down and go to sleep."
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