"Then," said Bobby Bobolink, "it must be something else that amuses me. It must be your mouth!"
"My mouth!" Mr. Frog repeated, as his jaw dropped. "What's the matter with that?"
"It's so big!" Bobby cried.
Now, Mr. Frog had always been terribly sensitive about the size of his mouth.
"I'll tell you something about my mouth," he said. "Once it was smaller than yours. But I've smiled so much it has stretched a bit, though I hoped nobody had noticed that."
"Well," Bobby Bobolink told him, "I'm better off than you are, Mr. Frog. For I[p. 85] expect to have a new suit this fall. But how are you going to change your mouth—or your feet, either?"
That was a question that Mr. Frog couldn't answer. He made no attempt to reply, but plunged into the water and swam away.
And he never again laughed at anybody's clothes all that summer.