"Then, too, the frog is a learned animal. You must know that the true frog is a weather-prophet: when it is going to rain he knows it, comes out of the water and croaks his prophecy; when dry weather is coming he goes back to the water."
"Ah!" began Noémi, getting interested.
"I will catch one," said Timar; "I hear one among the bushes."
He soon came back with a tree-frog between his palms. Noémi trembled and got excited. She was red and pale by turns.
"Now look," said Timar to her, opening his hands a little. "Is it not a pretty little thing? It is as lovely a green as the young grass, and its tiny foot is like a miniature human hand. How its little heart beats! How it looks at us with its beautiful wise black eyes with a golden ring round them! It is not afraid of us!"
Noémi, wavering between fear and curiosity, stretched out a timid hand, but drew it quickly back.
"Take it, touch it—it is the most harmless creature on God's earth." She stretched out her hand again, frightened and yet laughing, but looked into Timar's eyes instead of at the frog, and started when the cold body came in contact with her reluctant nerves; but then suddenly she laughed with pleasure, like a child which would not go into the cold water, and then is glad to be there.
"Now look, he does not move in your hand; he is quite comfortable. We will take him home and find a glass, put water in, and then place a small ladder in it which I can cut out of wood. The frog shall be imprisoned in it, and when he knows that rain is coming he will climb up the ladder. Give it to me; I will carry it."
"No, no; I will keep him, and carry him home myself."
"Then you must hold your hand shut, or he will jump out; but not too tight so as to press him. And now let us go, for the dew is falling, and the grass is wet."