"But I fooled them all," he went on. "And one night, when it was dark, just a few stars out, I climbed out of bed and jumped out of the window and ran away.
"I walked and I walked, miles and miles, till I came to a big town by the sea. There were lots of big ships at the docks, and I asked a man, with a great big beard, to take me too. So he took me on board, and I was a little cabin boy. But bye and bye I got to be a real sailor, and I sailed all over the world in the ship, and saw lots of people, yellow, and black, and brown, and funny places and queer houses and—"
"Be careful, Frank!"
They all turned at once. There was Mother, standing right near them. All the time she had been listening, near the Crying Tree.
"Now, Frank," she repeated, "be careful or you'll put notions in those children's heads, and some day they'll be running away from me."
Still she didn't look cross, and she smiled at the Toyman, especially when he answered:
"Not from a mother like you, Mis' Green. How about it, kiddies?"
And Marmaduke and Jehosophat were very sure they never could run away—not even to sea in a beautiful ship. So they kissed her and hugged her too.
Now the froggies were singing their evening song. The sun was getting close to his home in the west. Little Duckie and his real mother and father came out of the water and waddled off towards the barn. The Swans folded their wings and came to the shore. So the Toyman brought the ship to the harbour and anchored her for the night.