So the tailor leaped into his shop once more. And for a few moments he
was very busy, arranging another strip of cloth so that the stranger
might make button-holes in it.

When all was ready Mr. Heron stepped up to do his work. He was just
about to strike, when he suddenly paused.

"Who's going to have this suit?" he asked the tailor.

"Mr. Fish Hawk," said the tailor. "Do you know him?"

"I should say I did!" Mr. Heron cried. "And he's no friend of mine, I
assure you. I only wish he was behind this cloth! I'd run my bill clean
through him!"

A cold, cruel glitter came into Mr. Heron's eyes. And when he struck, he
struck with all his power, as if he were driving his wicked bill through
Mr. Fish Hawk that very moment.

He made only that one thrust. And he did not withdraw his bill, either.
Instead he set up a terrible squawking and began to flounder about on
the bank of the pond.

"Help! Help!" he cried in a muffled voice.

But Ferdinand Frog only smiled--and made no move to assist his new
acquaintance. The truth of the matter was that he had hidden a block of
wood behind the cloth, and Mr. Heron had driven his bill into it so far
that he couldn't pull it out.

With a loud chuckle Mr. Frog jumped into the water and swam away. And
that very day he moved to Black Creek, without troubling himself to
learn how Mr. Heron got himself out of his difficulty.

But the tailor couldn't help thinking what a handy thing it would be to
have a bill like Mr. Heron's.

"He can even make button-holes in wood!" Mr. Frog exclaimed.

XIX

THE SWIMMING TEACHER

It surprised the wild folk in Pleasant Valley when they learned that Mr.
Frog had forsaken the Beaver pond for a new home on the bank of Black
Creek.

When his friends asked him why he had moved Mr. Frog told them he had
made up his mind that the pond was too damp for the good of his health.
Besides, Black Creek was nearer Cedar Swamp, where the Frog family held
their singing-parties.

Of course, the real reason for Ferdinand Frog's change of scene was that
he was afraid Mr. Heron might return to the Beaver pond some day, to
look for him.

And when that happened, Mr. Frog did not care to be there.

In his new home, however, he felt quite at his ease. And he set out at
once to make himself agreeable to his neighbors.

The nearest of these were Long Bill Wren and his wife, who at that time
chanced to have a family of five growing children.

Mr. Frog