"Now," replied the frog, "I shall soon have my pond."
Tearful cried harder than ever, then; she could not see, her tears fell so fast, and by and by she heard a splashing sound. She opened her eyes and saw water all around her.
She was on a small island in the middle of the pond; the frog hopped out of the pond, making a terrible grimace as he sat down beside her.
"I hope you are satisfied," said Tearful. "You have your pond; why don't you stay in it?"
"Alas!" replied the frog, "I have wished for something which I cannot use now that I have it. Your tears are salt and my pond which I have all by myself is so salt that I cannot enjoy it. If only your tears had been fresh I should have been a most fortunate fellow."
"You needn't stay if you do not like it," said Tearful, "and you needn't find fault with my tears, either," she said, beginning to cry again.
"Stop! stop!" cried the frog, hopping about excitedly; "you will have a flood if you keep on crying."
Tearful saw the water rising around her, so she stopped a minute. "What shall I do?" she asked. "I cannot swim, and I will die if I have to stay here," and then she began to cry again.
The frog hopped up and down in front of her, waving his front legs and telling her to hush. "If you would only stop crying," he said, "I might be able to help you, but I cannot do a thing if you cover me with your salt tears."
Tearful listened, and promised she would not cry if he would get her away from the island.