“Well, I wonder what that can be coming into our woods?” asked one mosquito of another as he stopped buzzing his wings a moment.
“It looks like a frog boy,” was the reply of a lady mosquito.
“It is,” spoke a third mosquito, sharpening his biting bill on a stone. “Let’s sting him so he’ll never come here again.”
“Yes, let’s do it!” they all agreed.
So they all got ready with their stingers, and Bawly hopped nearer and nearer. They were just going to pounce on him and bite him to pieces when he suddenly shot a lot of beans at them, hitting quite a number of mosquitoes and killing a few.
“My! What’s this? What’s this?” cried the mosquitoes that weren’t killed. “What is happening?” and they were very much surprised, not to say startled.
“This must be a war!” said some others. “This frog boy is fighting us!”
“That’s just what I’m doing!” cried Bawly bravely. “I’m punishing you for what you did to Grandfather Croaker! Bang-bang! Bung-bung! Shoot! Fire! Aim! Forward, March!” and with that he shot some more beans at the mosquitoes, killing hundreds of them so they could never more bite little babies or boys and girls, to say nothing of papas and mammas and aunts and uncles.
Oh, how brave Bawly was with his bean shooter! He made those mosquitoes dance around like humming birds, and they were very much frightened. Then Bawly took a rest and ate some more of his lunch, laying his bean shooter down on top of a stump.
“Now the battle will go on again!” he cried, when he had eaten the last crumb and felt very strong. But, would you believe me, while he was eating, those mosquitoes had sneaked up and taken away his bean shooter.