andfather Frog climbed out on his big green lily-pad and made
himself comfortable. Peter sat still and tried not to show how
impatient he felt. Grandfather Frog took his time. It tickled him to
see how hard impatient Peter was trying to be patient, and his big,
goggly eyes twinkled.
"Chug-a-rum!" said he at last, with a suddenness that made Peter jump.
"That's very good, Peter, very good indeed! Now I'll tell you the
story."
Of course he meant that Peter's effort to keep still was very good,
but Peter didn't know this, and he couldn't imagine what Grandfather
Frog meant. However, what he cared most about was the story, so he
settled himself to listen, his long ears standing straight up, and his
eyes stretched wide open as he watched Grandfather Frog. The latter
cleared his throat two or three times, each time as if he intended to
begin right then. It was one of Grandfather Frog's little jokes. He
did it just to tease Peter. At last he really did begin, and the very
first thing he did was to ask Peter a question.
"What is the reason that you stay in the dear Old Briar-patch when
Reddy Fox is around?"
"So that he won't catch me, of course," replied Peter.
"Very good," said Grandfather Frog. "Now, why do you go over to the
sweet-clover patch every day?"
"Why, because there is plenty to eat there," replied Peter, looking
very, very much puzzled.
"Well, now you've answered your own question," grunted Grandfather
Frog. "Flitter flies at night because he is safest then, and because
he can find plenty to eat."
"Oh," said Peter, and his voice sounded dreadfully disappointed. He
had found out what he had wanted to know, but he hadn't had a story.
He fidgeted about and looked very hard at Grandfather Frog, but the
latter seemed to think that he had told Peter what he wanted to know,
and that was all there was to it. Finally Peter sighed, and it was
such a heavy sigh! Then very slowly he turned his back on the Smiling
Pool and started to hop away.
"Chug-a-rum!" said Grandfather Frog in his deepest, story-telling
voice. "A long time ago when the world was young, the
great-great-ever-so-great grandfather of Flitter the Bat first learned
to fly."
"I know!" cried Peter eagerly. "You told me about that, and it was a
splendid story."
"But when he learned to fly, he found that Old Mother Nature never
gives all her blessings to any single one of her little people,"
continued Grandfather Frog, without paying the l
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