At last the tailor suddenly quit thinking and smiled very widely from ear to ear. And carefully selecting some soft, warm, green cloth he began to fashion a small garment, which was tiny enough to fit—well, to fit a person as little as Kiddie Katydid.
Being a spry worker, Mr. Frog finished his task by nightfall. And then, taking his handiwork with him, he left his shop—after locking the door behind him—and hid himself beneath a shelving rock on the bank of the creek.
He was in a very happy mood; for his ideas about the weather had proved to be good. It was already turning cold.
"If it wasn't midsummer I should think we were going to have a frost!" Mr. Frog exclaimed, buttoning the long coat which he had donned before going out of doors. "I wish they'd hurry up!" he added mysteriously. He kept a close watch upon his shop door. It was evident that he expected callers.
Not long afterward a crowd began to gather in front of Mr. Frog's door. "Back Soon" said the sign upon it. And the thinly clad, shivering knot of field folk sat themselves down unhappily and waited for the tailor to appear. Every one of them wanted a warm new overcoat, for each expected to be out late that night.
Meanwhile Mr. Frog watched them—and giggled as loud as he dared. It was Mr. Crow's committee that thronged about his door—the people who were expecting to call upon Kiddie Katydid that very night to invite him to join the Pleasant Valley orchestra.