"It is like being a king and queen ourselves," said Pierre.
"Yes," replied Iona, holding her dear flower close.
In and out, through narrow ways and broad, but all beautiful, the swans swam on. Sometimes drooping trees dipped their tassels in the water, and the air was always sweet.
At last the children began to see bulrushes and they remembered their friend, the frog. Would he come to meet them?
Sure enough, as the stream narrowed and the bulrushes grew more thickly, the swans began to move more and more slowly. At last they stopped.
"Chug! chug!" said a voice. "Stand, ho."
"Dear Mr. Frog, how kind of you!" cried Iona as the frog came alongside, on his back the letter and number just as they had left them.
"Where did you get the flowers?" he asked severely.
"The gift of the king and queen," replied Pierre.