"It is very bad," said another frog. "I don't know what we shall do!"
"Do you suppose," said another, "that Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog can do anything?"
"Oh, I'm all out of patience with hearing about that!" was the answer. "If they can do anything, why haven't they done it before this? Now instead of two ducks we shall probably have a dozen of them. I just can't bear to think of those John Bull Frogs and their promises," he continued. "They have promised so much and have done so little. There they are now!"
Bully looked toward the bulrushes, and sure enough, there were Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog climbing up on their rock. They seemed very happy today—happier than he had ever seen them. They were both smiling as they watched the ducks. In fact, there was a broad grin on John Bull Frog's handsome face, as he nudged Mrs. John Bull Frog with his elbow and pointed toward Mrs. Duck and her family.
"Just look at them now," said an old frog. "I really believe they are laughing. Don't they know that their babies will disappear faster than ever now?"
"They don't seem to care for their babies," said a fat old frog. "The hard-hearted things, I wish they had never come here at all!"
Still more shells were thrown from the nest, and the ducks were quacking softly.
Bully heard some one crying. He looked around to see who it was. Mrs. Toad was sitting in her doorway sobbing, "Oh, my poor toadies, my poor little polly-wogs! What shall I do? What shall I do?"
There seemed to be nothing that she or anybody else could do. Everyone seemed downhearted and discouraged except Mr. and Mrs. John Bull Frog and those dreadful ducks. The frogs were very, very unhappy for the next day or two as they waited to see the ducks come from their nest.
At last, early one morning when the big bright round sun was just peeping through the treetops, and the dew on the grass around the Frog Pond was sparkling like thousands of tiny diamonds, Mrs. Duck stepped out of her nest, saying, "Quack, quack," very softly. Behind her toddled ten of the most beautiful little downy ducklings any mother could wish for. Mr. Duck walked with them to the edge of the pond to help Mrs. Duck get them into the water. He wanted to show them the nice young polly-wogs they were to have for breakfast, too. No one has to teach a little duck to swim any more than a young robin has to be taught to eat worms. A duckling seems to know all about swimming from the day he leaves the nest.