"Yes, and now it's Buddy's turn to bat," said Bawly, the frog. "Get up, Buddy. I'll pitch you a nice one."
So Buddy got up to home plate, which was a flat stone, you know, and he held his bat ready to knock the ball out of sight, if possible.
Bawly threw him a nice, easy ball, and Buddy struck at it. He hit, too, which is better. Oh! such a hit as he gave that ball! It's a good thing balls don't have feelings, I think, or bats either, for that matter.
Well, as soon as he hit the ball Buddy started to run for the bases. Oh, how fast he ran, but something happened. The ball didn't go as far as he thought it would. No, it fell down right near Sammie Littletail, and Sammie picked it up and ran toward Buddy with it.
He knew if he could touch Buddy with the ball before Buddy got back to home plate, that Buddy would be out and then Sammie could bat again.
So Sammie ran after Buddy, and Buddy ran all around the bases, hoping he could make a home run and get there safe. But it was hard work. Faster and faster he ran, and faster and faster hopped Sammie after him.
"Run, Buddy! Run!" cried Bully the frog.
"I—am—running!" panted Buddy.
"Catch him, Sammie! Catch him!" cried Bawly, and Sammie gave three tremendous hops to catch Buddy.
But by this time Buddy was nearly at home plate, where he would be safe. And the worst of it was that Sammie was almost there, too.