"We shall have to forget that," said Grandfather Bull Frog. "And now," turning to the others, "what shall we call this stranger?" he asked.
Several frogs croaked, "Call him the Kaiser."
"No, no," said the strange frog. "Call me John Bull Frog, for I have many relatives in England. Don't call me the Kaiser. I am glad he threw us into the sea and that we are here where he can never lay hands on us again."
At that all the frogs began to say, "John Bull Frog it shall be."
So John Bull Frog we will now call him.
"Can you sing?" asked Grandfather.
"They say," said John Bull Frog, "that I'm one of the world's finest singers." He said this rather modestly, blushing just a little as he glanced first at Mrs. John Bull Frog, who sat close beside him, and then at the other frogs.
"Then will you sing for us?" asked Grandfather.
"I shall be glad to do so," said John, "but not to-night. Please excuse me this time. I don't feel like singing just now."
After a few songs by the grand chorus the meeting broke up. Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog were shown to their new home over by the bulrushes. They were thankful indeed that the other frogs had said they might stay. Before going to sleep that night they talked over all the things that had happened to them since they were thrown out of the Kaiser's pocket. How good the frogs in Rainbow Valley had been to them—better than they deserved! They made up their minds always to do right.