Usually he did his work quickly. But now after every five stitches that he put into his work he stopped to take out ten. And naturally he was not getting on very fast. He had been working busily since early morning; and Jasper Jay’s suit was further than ever from being finished.
Since he was a most cheerful person, Mr. Frog did not mind that. Indeed, he was more than pleased, because the oftener he took a swim the fewer stitches he lost. So he sang the merriest songs he knew.
The light was fast fading when a hollow laugh startled Mr. Frog. It seemed to come from the willow tree right over his head. And he knew without looking up that it was Solomon Owl’s deep voice.
Mr. Frog tried to leap into the brook. But when he uncrossed his legs, in his haste he tangled them up in his sewing. And all he could do was to turn a somersault backward among some bulrushes, hoping that Solomon Owl had not seen him.
It is no secret that Mr. Frog was terribly afraid of Solomon Owl. Some of Mr. Frog’s friends had mysteriously disappeared. And they had last been seen in Solomon’s company.
As it happened, Mr. Frog had hoped in vain. For Solomon Owl only laughed more loudly than before. And then he said:
“What are you afraid of, Mr. Frog?”
The tailor knew at once that he was caught. So he hopped nimbly to his feet and answered that there was nothing to be afraid of, so far as he could see.
It was a true statement, too; because Mr. Frog had not yet discovered Solomon Owl’s exact whereabouts.
But he learned them soon; for Solomon immediately dropped down from the big willow and alighted on the bank near Mr. Frog—altogether too near him, in fact, for the tailor’s comfort.