| "——If I were on that shore, |
| I should live there and not die, but sing evermore." |
| Jean Ingelow. |
"About here will do, I should think—eh, Monsieur Frog?" said Hugh, resting on his oars half-way to the island. But there was no answer. The frog had disappeared.
"What a queer way all these creatures behave, don't they, Jeanne?" he said. "First Dudu, then Houpet and the others. They go off all of a sudden in the oddest way."
"I suppose they have to go when we don't need them any more," said Jeanne. "I daresay they are obliged to."
"Who obliges them?" said Hugh.
"Oh, I don't know! The fairies, I suppose," said Jeanne.
"Was it the fairies you meant when you kept saying 'they'?" asked Hugh.
"I don't know—perhaps—it's no use asking me," said Jeanne. "Fairies, or dream-spirits, or something like that. Never mind who they are if they give us nice things. I am sure the frogs have been very kind, haven't they?"
"Yes; you won't be so afraid of them now, will you, Jeanne?"
"Oh, I don't know. I daresay I shall be, for they're quite different from our frogs. Ours aren't so bright green, and their eyes aren't red, and they can't talk. Oh no, our frogs are quite different from theirs, Chéri," she added with profound conviction.