“Jest you wait,” puttered Mr. Ricks. “I hain’t got it ’justed quite right.”
We watched him.
“Hello!” he said, after a moment.
“R-r-r-r!” responded the frog.
Aunt Polly laughed good-naturedly.
“Laws-a-me! It sounds as though it had a bad pain in its tin stomach.”
“Indigestion,” grinned Peg, his big mouth stretching from ear to ear.
“We should have brought along some charcoal tablets,” laughed Scoop.
The disappointed inventor did some more puttering. But all that he could get out of the tin frog was, “R-r-r-r!”
“It did better than that last night,” Tom told his father.