Boooooooo
Timmy Drew-o-o-o
I can make a shoe-o-o-o
As well as you-o-o-o
And better too-o-o-o
Timmy Drew-o-o-o
Boooooooo
Timmy was certain no ordinary frogs could pipe out such a song at that rate. He leaped out of bed and rushed from the house. “I’ll teach those rascals to come around plaguing me,” he said. But no one could be seen. It was a clear bright night, all was solitary and still, save for an occasional rumble from the sleeping frogs. After throwing a few stones into the bushes, Timmy retired once more and fell into uneasy sleep.
The amazing concert continued night after night, swelling on the evening breeze, and then sinking away into the distance. Again and again Timmy attempted to discover who were the perpetrators of the nightly serenading. They could not be found. He began to feel certain that he was to be forever haunted by the music. His friends sympathized with him, but Timmy was too upset to sense the mischief in the air.
The next time Timmy stopped at the tavern, he found all in earnest consultation.