as on the banks of Black Creek, where Long Bill Wren
spent his summers.

XXII

THE FORGOTTEN GUEST

The shadows were lengthening--for the sun was far over in the
west--when Rusty Wren reached Mr. Frog's tailor's shop overlooking
Black Creek. Rusty pushed open the door and stepped inside,
expecting to find Mr. Frog sitting cross-legged upon his table and
sewing busily, according to the tailor's custom, until sunset,
which marked the close of Mr. Frog's working day.

But Rusty had hardly entered the shop when he bumped into Mr. Frog
with a crash; for Mr. Frog had been hurrying toward the door.

The collision bowled them both over upon the floor. But Mr. Frog
did not appear annoyed in the least.

"How-dy do!" he said, almost before he had picked himself up. "If
you have come to see me on business, I'm sorry to say that I can't
do anything for you to-day.... The fact is, I'm going to a
singing-party this evening. And I don't want to be late."

"Why--I'm going to a party, too!" Rusty Wren exclaimed.

"You must be mistaken--for there's to be no party here," Mr. Frog
told him.

"Oh! The party I'm going to will be held somewhere else," Rusty
Wren explained.

"That's interesting," said Mr. Frog, as he settled his hat more
firmly upon his queerly shaped head. "Who's having it--if I may
ask?"

Rusty Wren looked at the tailor as if he were much surprised.

"Don't you know about it?" he inquired. "Do you mean to say that my
cousin, Long Bill Wren, didn't invite you?"

For a moment Mr. Frog appeared somewhat taken aback.

"He must have forgotten me," he murmured. "I haven't heard a word
about his party before.... But I know it's a mistake," he added,
with a smile.

"No doubt!" said Rusty Wren politely. "I was going to Cousin Bill's
home as soon as you had measured me for a new Sunday coat," he
explained.

"Then come right along now!" Mr. Frog cried heartily. "We'll go
together. For I'm sure that Long Bill didn't mean to forget me. You
know we're the best of friends. I make all his clothes for him;
and he has never yet paid me a penny."

Rusty Wren hesitated. He was not quite sure that his cousin had
intended to invite the nimble tailor to his party.

"But your singing-party!" he reminded Mr. Frog. "You don't want to
miss that!" he said.

Mr. Frog caught him by a wing and laughed gaily.

"Oh! That doesn't matter," he remarked with a careless air. "We
have a singing-party almost every night. I'd muc