"But you wouldn't object to a bird, would you?" said a voice right in Ferdinand Frog's ear—or so it seemed to him.
He made no answer—not even stopping to bow, or say good evening—but turned a somersault backward and hid himself under the overhanging bank.
It was Solomon Owl who had spoken to him. There was no mistaking the loud, mocking laughter that followed Mr. Frog's hasty retreat.
"Solomon Owl is a great joker," Mr. Frog murmured with a smile. "He was only teasing me. . . . Still, he might be a bit hungry. So I'll stay here out of harm's way for a while, for it would be a shame for so handsome a person as I am to be eaten by an old, rascally bird like Solomon Owl."
One can judge, just by that remark, that Ferdinand Frog was not quite so polite as his neighbors supposed—when there was no one to hear what he said.
III
MR. FROG'S DOUBLE
Mr. Frog waited until it was broad daylight before he left his hiding place beneath the bank of the river. He knew that by that time Solomon Owl must have gone home to his hemlock tree to get his rest. So Ferdinand Frog felt quite safe again.
Having made up his mind that he would finish his journey to Farmer Green's place by land, he started briskly across the cornfield, travelling in a straight line between two rows of young corn.