“You’re a matter-of-fact monkey,” said Aunt Emma. “Dear me, what’s that?”
For a loud squeak had suddenly startled the children, who were now looking about them everywhere in vain, to find out where it came from. Squeak! again. This time the voice certainly came from near Aunt Emma’s chair, but there was nothing to be seen.
“What a strange house you live in,” said Aunt Emma, with a perfectly grave face. “You must have caught a magician somehow. That’s a magician’s squeak.”
Again came the noise!
“I know, I know!” shouted Olly. “It’s Aunt Emma’s bag! I’m sure it came out of the bag.”
“My bag!”—holding it up and looking at it. “Now does it look like a bag that squeaks? It’s a perfectly well-behaved bag, and never did such a thing in its life.”
“I know, Aunt Emma,” said Olly, dancing round her in great excitement. “You’ve got the parrot in there!”
“Well now,” said Aunt Emma. “This is really serious. If you think I am such a cruel old woman as to shut up a poor poll-parrot in a bag, there’s no help for it, we must open the bag. But it’s a very curious bag—I wouldn’t stand too near it if I were you.”
Click! went the fastening of the bag, and out jumped—what do you think? Why, the very biggest frog that was ever seen, in this part of the world at any rate, a green speckled frog, that hopped on to Aunt Emma’s knee, and then on to the floor, where it went hopping and squeaking along the carpet, till all of a sudden, when it got to the door, it turned over on its back, and lay there quite quiet with its legs in the air.
The children followed it with looks half of horror, half of amazement.