Did you think a frog's clothes would stretch—that his clothes grow as he grows? Well, that is not true. His clothes are not made of rubber. They will stretch but very, very little.
But where did Bully's suit come from? His mother did not make it for him. In fact, he did not ask her to make him one, for the reason he didn't know which frog was his mother. Isn't that sad—never to know your own mother? You remember I told you that his mother, after laying her eggs in the shallow water, swam away and paid no more attention to them. But Bully didn't worry about his mother. He had early learned to look out for himself, so he didn't feel the need of her. He could even get a new suit all by himself. If we could watch him, we should see him hump his back, bend his arms and legs, and twist himself about in many funny ways. Very soon something would go r-r-rip, and we should see his clothes burst open clear down the back. He would then begin to pull out his arms and legs. When these were out he would pull the old clothes off over his head just the way a boy takes off his shirt. The old clothes would be off. Well, that is just what happened. Perhaps you think he stood there on his lily pad in his underclothes, shivering in the cool spring breezes. But he didn't, for Mother Nature had already made him a new suit and he had it on right under his old clothes. When his old clothes came off he was already dressed—dressed in his Sunday best. How he did smile when he saw the new suit! How handsome it was, with its back of green, with splashes of brown sprinkled here and there on it! How beautiful the vest was! Not a wrinkle! It was a soft, light yellow. He smoothed the shining coat and vest and the bright new trousers and stockings. He leaned over the edge of the lily pad and gazed at the picture he saw of himself in the water. What a splendid suit it was! Just big enough, a perfect fit without a wrinkle anywhere. Do you wonder he laughed softly as he saw himself in his looking glass? We won't blame him at all if he was a bit vain, for we all like to see and have beautiful clothes.
He was just about to jump off the lily pad when he thought of his old suit. What should he do with it? He didn't once think of going away and leaving it lying on the lily pad as some children we know leave their night clothes on the floor when they dress in the morning. He might have rolled it off into the water, but that wouldn't do, either. That would be just like kicking it under the bed to get it out of sight. He couldn't hang it up, for there was no place to hang it. What do you suppose he did? It didn't take Bully long to decide what to do with it. He put it out of sight in a jiffy, but not under his bed or in the closet. You remember he hadn't had any breakfast and was pretty hungry, as it had taken him so long to dress—or rather to undress—that morning. He felt almost anything would taste good, even his old coat. He not only felt hungry enough to eat his coat, he really ate it.
First he rolled it carefully into a ball, then put it into his mouth, and, with one gulp, down it went. Think of it—a breakfast of one's old coat! That was Bully's first and last meal that morning. And the funny thing about it was, he not only felt that he had had his breakfast, but that he had made his bed and put his room to rights in quite the proper way.
Bully jumped into the water to take his morning swim with all his brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins. He wasn't at all afraid the water would spoil that new suit. No, indeed, he knew water wouldn't hurt it in the least. Water on Bully's coat is like fresh paint on an old building. It makes it look bright and clean. How he did enjoy swimming that morning! It was such a comfy suit. He could stretch his arms and legs as far as he wished without a thought of distress or a fear of tearing his new suit. There was such a comfortable feeling in his stomach, as though now he could eat all he wanted. In his new suit he thought himself the happiest and the handsomest boy frog in the pond that morning.
A RUDE STRANGER
It was almost evening. The big round sun was growing larger and redder as the clouds spread their white, fleecy blanket over him as they were putting him to bed. The spring wind, which had howled fiercely all through the long day, tossing things about from place to place, had now become a gentle evening breeze which whispered softly among the leaves and grasses. The evening shadows were gently creeping under the trees as Bully climbed onto the log once more. He was very happy to-night. Every frog about the Pond seemed to feel happy, too. Did they not have the most beautiful spot on the whole earth for a home? He sat watching the butterflies chase each other, darting swiftly here and there under the trees and over the still water. Their red and yellow wings looked very beautiful as the sun shot his last beam of light through a break in the clouds. Some of those wings at that moment looked like pure gold. Grandfather Bull Frog was beginning to call loudly from the island. It was time for the full chorus. How fine it was to be a frog, thought Bully as he sat there listening as a voice called first here then there.
"Yes, it's just splendid to be a frog," he said to himself.
He thought he was alone until he was rudely pushed to one side by a big strange frog. "Here," said the newcomer, "wake up, you sleepy little frog, and tell us if this is the place we are looking for."