THE FROGS WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.
[ THE
FROGS WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.]
Two frogs, who were cousins, were hopping about together one warm summer’s evening by the side of a rivulet, when they began talking—just as the men will talk—about a young lady-frog who lived in a neighbouring marsh. One extolled the brightness of her eyes, the other praised the beauty of her complexion, and somehow the two frogs found out that they had both fallen in love with the same young lady-froggy. When they had made this discovery they parted rather abruptly, and muttered something, the meaning of which was not very clear.
“Bless me,” said Mr. Croaker, the elder and richer of the two, “I must not let that young scapegrace Jumper get the better of me. A pretty joke indeed that he should think of the beautiful Miss Leapfrog, he who is not worth a rap, and is as ugly as a toad.”
“Who would have thought,” said Jumper to himself, “that that old curmudgeon Croaker was going to make love to that dear young Miss Leapfrog? We will soon see whom she likes best.”
The next morning Croaker dressed himself with unusual neatness; and that he might appear to better advantage, he went to a barber-frog who lived in a neighbouring arbour, and asked to be shaved and to have his wig dressed. The barber had just spread his white cloth, had lathered his customer’s chin, and was flourishing a razor in his face, when what should catch Croaker’s eye through the open doorway but the figure of his cousin Jumper, smartly dressed, with his cane under his arm, and a parasol over his head, to keep the sun off his delicate complexion, walking hastily along the path that led to Miss Leapfrog’s residence.
To jump from his chair was Croaker’s first impulse, and, sad to say, it was his last; for he fell with his throat upon the edge of the barber’s razor, and in two minutes breathed his last.
Deep was Miss Leapfrog’s grief, and great was Mr. Jumper’s joy, when the news of this sad misfortune reached their ears. In the first burst of her anguish the young lady accused the barber of having murdered her dear Croaker; but Mr. Jumper hopped about for joy, and vowed that the barber was the best frog alive. And well he might be joyful, for as Croaker had died without a will, Jumper inherited all his estates; and when, after a week’s mourning, the young lady’s grief had somewhat subsided, the happy Mr. Jumper carried off the beautiful Miss Leapfrog.