“Can one swim about there?” inquired the Grub.
“I should think not,” chuckled the Frog.
“Dry land is not water. That is just what it is not. Dry land is something like the sludge at the bottom of this pond, only it is not wet because there’s no water.”
“Really! What is there then?”
“That’s the difficulty,” exclaimed Froggy.
“There is something, of course, they call it air, but how to explain it I don’t know. Now just take my advice and ask no more silly questions. I tell you the thing is not worth your troubling yourself about. But I admire your spirit,” continued the Frog. “I will make you an offer. If you choose to take a seat on my back I will carry you up to dry land and you can judge for yourself what is there and how you like it.”
“I accept with gratitude, honoured Frog,” said the little Grub.
“Drop yourself down on my back, then, and cling to me as well as you can. Come now, hold fast.”
The little Grub obeyed and the Frog, swimming gently upwards, soon reached the bulrushes by the water’s side.