“No,” replied Bawly, “I certainly did not. But perhaps I can get the corn up for you. I’ll reach down and try.”
So he stretched out on the bank of the pond, and reached his front leg down into the water as far as it would go, but he couldn’t touch the corn, for it was scattered out of the basket, all over the floor, or bottom, of the pond.
“That will never do!” cried Bawly. “I guess I’ll have to dive down for that corn.”
“Dive down!” exclaimed Arabella. “Oh, if you dive down under water you’ll get all wet. Wait, and perhaps the water will all run out of the pond and we can then get the corn.”
“Oh I don’t mind the wet,” replied the frog boy. “My clothes are made purposely for that. I’m so sorry I spilled the corn.” So into the water Bawly popped, clothes and all, just as when you fall out of a boat, and down to the bottom he went. But when he tried to pick up the corn he had trouble. For the kernels were all wet and slippery and Bawly couldn’t very well hold his paw full of corn, and swim at the same time. So he had to let go of the corn, and up he popped.
“Oh!” cried Arabella, when she saw he didn’t have any corn. “I’m so sorry! What shall we do? We need the corn for supper.”
“I’ll try again,” promised Bawly, and he did, again and again, but still he couldn’t get any of the corn up from under the water. And he felt badly, and so did Arabella, and even eating what they had left of the candy didn’t make them feel any better.
“I tell you what it is!” cried Bawly, after he had tried forty-’leven times to dive down after the corn, “what I need is something like an ash sieve. Then I could scoop up the corn and water, and the water would run out, and leave the corn there.”
“But you haven’t any sieve,” said Arabella, “and so you can never get the corn, and we won’t have any supper, and—— Oh, dear! Boo-hoo! Hoo-boo!”
“Oh, please don’t cry,” begged Bawly, who felt badly enough himself. “Here, wait, I’ll see if I can’t drink all the water out of the pond, and that will leave the ground dry so we can get the corn.”