“Bully,” said the frog boy’s mamma to him one Saturday morning, when there wasn’t any school, “I wish you would go on an errand for me.”
“Of course I will, mother,” he said. “Do you want me to go to the store for some lemons, or some sugar?”
“Neither one, Bully. I wish you would go to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s house and tell the nice duck lady I can’t come over to-day to help her sew carpet rags, and piece-out the bedquilt. I have to put away the winter flannels so the moths won’t get in them, and then, too, it is so rainy and foggy that we couldn’t see to sew carpet rags very well. Tell her I’ll be over the first pleasant day.”
“Very well,” answered Bully, “and may I stay a while and play with Jimmie Wibblewobble?”
“You may,” said his mother, and off Bully hopped all alone, for his brother Bawly had gone fishing.
It was a very unpleasant day for any one except ducks or frogs. For sometimes it rained, and when it wasn’t rainy it was misty, and moisty, and foggy. And it was wet all over. The water dripped down off the trees and bushes, and even the ponds and little brooks were wetter than usual, for the rain rained into them, and splished and splashed.
But Bully didn’t mind, not in the least. Away he hopped in his rubber suit, that water couldn’t hurt, and he felt very fine. Soon he was at Mrs. Wibblewobble’s house, and he delivered the message his mother had given him.
“And now I’ll go play with Jimmie,” said Bully. “Where is he, and where are Lulu and Alice, Mrs. Wibblewobble?”
“Oh! the girls went over to see Grandfather Goosey Gander,” replied their mamma. “As for Jimmie, you’ll find him out somewhere on the pond. But be careful you don’t get lost, for the fog is very thick to-day.”
“I should think it was,” replied Bully as he hopped away, “it’s almost as thick as molasses.” Well, pretty soon he came to the edge of the pond, and in he plumped, and began swimming about.