ow who they belonged to. He couldn't
remember ever having seen them before. He was afraid, and yet somehow he
couldn't make up his mind to jump. He stared so hard at the eyes that he
didn't notice a long furry paw slowly, very slowly, reaching down
towards him. Nearer it crept and nearer. Then suddenly it moved like a
flash. Grandfather Frog felt sharp claws in his white and yellow
waistcoat, and before he could even open his mouth to cry "Chugarum," he
was sent flying through the air and landed on his back in the grass.
Pounce! Two paws pinned him down, and the greenish yellow eyes were not
an inch from his own. They belonged to Black Pussy, Farmer Brown's cat.

XXIII

THE DEAR OLD SMILING POOL ONCE MORE

Black Pussy was having a good time. Grandfather Frog wasn't. It was
great fun for Black Pussy to slip a paw under Grandfather Frog and toss
him up in the air. It was still more fun to pretend to go away, but to
hide instead, and the instant Grandfather Frog started off, to pounce
upon him and cuff him and roll him about. But there wasn't any fun in it
for Grandfather Frog. In the first place, he didn't know whether or not
Black Pussy liked Frogs to eat, and he was terribly frightened. In the
second place, Black Pussy didn't always cover up her claws, and they
pricked right through Grandfather Frog's white and yellow waistcoat and
hurt, for he is very tender there.

At last Black Pussy grew tired of playing, so catching up Grandfather
Frog in her mouth, she started along the little path from the spring to
the Long Lane. Grandfather Frog didn't even kick, which was just as
well, because if he had, Black Pussy would have held him tighter, and
that would have been very uncomfortable indeed.

"It's all over, and this is the end," moaned Grandfather Frog. "I'm
going to be eaten now. Oh, why, why did I ever leave the Smiling Pool?"

Just as Black Pussy slipped into the Long Lane, Grandfather Frog heard a
familiar sound. It was a whistle, a merry whistle. It was the whistle of
Farmer Brown's boy. It was coming nearer and nearer. A little bit of
hope began to stir in the heart of Grandfather Frog.

He didn't know just why, but it did. Always he had been in the greatest
fear of Farmer Brown's boy, but now--well, if Farmer Brown's boy should
take him, he might get away from him as he did before, but he was very
sure that he never, never could get away from Black Pussy.

The whistle drew nearer. Black Pussy stop