"Today, I suppose," replied the Lark. "I shall fly around by the nest and tell Mother Lark. I am quite sure she will be pleased to have me do this for you."
"It will be fine if you can start today," said Bully. "Be sure to tell them all about the valley and the pond."
"Surely I will," the Lark sang out. "Now perch on this old log and watch out for me when you think it's about time for me to get back. Will you?" asked the Lark.
Of course Bully would. With a hasty good-by the Lark rose in the air. Higher and higher up in the blue sky he flew, singing as he went.
Bully sat looking into the sky long after the Lark was out of sight and at last said to himself, "I think next to a bullfrog a lark is the very finest singer in the world. But I must hurry and tell Grandfather Bull Frog all about our plan."
MRS. TOAD ARRIVES
It was not a great while until every frog in the pond had heard that the Lark had gone to invite all the other frogs to come and make their home in Rainbow Valley. Some thought it was foolish to think of such a thing. Others thought the plan a good one, but said the Lark would not be able to tell all of them. There were others who said that, while they hoped more frogs would come, they didn't suppose a great many would care to travel so far. Grandfather Bull Frog said it was a splendid plan and he hoped they would come, for there was room enough in Rainbow Valley for all. Bully thought about it almost every minute of the day. He was so anxious for them to begin to come. He wondered about them by day and dreamed of them by night. He couldn't think of anything else, and he was often late to dinner and never on time for the evening concert. Grandmother was a bit worried about him, for he never seemed to hear what she was saying to him. He didn't seem to be ill, yet he took no interest in play or in his meals. Had she asked him, Bully could have told her why. He was busy thinking of the fun he would have with all the other young frogs. He wondered and wondered how many kinds of frogs there were, and when they would reach the pond. Would there be any little boy and girl frogs, or would the newcomers all be big, grown-up frogs? All his plans would be spoiled if no young frogs came. How many frogs would there be? What would they look like? Would they like this new home? These were only a few of the many questions Bully was trying to answer to his own satisfaction.
One morning he slept later than usual. I don't know whether he would have waked when he did if old Mr. Sun, peeping slyly through the tree tops, had not sent a bright ray of light straight into his face. Bully rubbed his eyes sleepily, and was about to hide under a big waterlily to take another nap, when the merry spring breezes came rushing madly through the tree tops. They tossed the branches of the trees about, and laughed gaily as the little seeds came whirling down, their wings spread out like tiny sails. The little seeds looked like hundreds and hundreds of butterflies as they came tumbling all about the lily pad where Bully was thinking about taking another nap. One little seed pecked him softly on the nose. He woke with a start. Then all at once he heard a queer noise. It was like the far-off distant hum of a swarm of bees, or like the gurgling sound of a laughing brook rippling over its bubbly bed. Bully sat up straight. He was curious to know at once what the noise was all about. It didn't take him long to find out. Looking out from under the lily pad, he saw most of the frogs sitting under a big tree on the bank of the pond. They were all crowded around a strange visitor and were all asking her questions at the same time. "Where did you come from?" "How did you get here?" "Did the Lark tell you of this place?" These and many other questions they asked without giving the stranger time to answer one of them.
The visitor sat in their midst looking about with a broad smile on her face. She wasn't trying to answer all those questions. In fact, she had no chance to do so. Bully saw that she was short and fat and that her skin was rough and warty. Her hind legs were shorter than a frog's hind legs. He thought her a very ugly-looking creature. Just then some one near him whispered, "My, what beautiful eyes she has!" Then for the first time he noticed the visitor's eyes. Sure enough, they were large, dark, and beautiful, with a soft, kind light in them. They made him forget all about her ugly coat. He wondered who she was.