and he wished them good night.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

As Froggy was crossing it over a brook,
A lilywhite Duck came and gobbled him up.

So here is an end of one, two, three--
The Rat, the Mouse, and little Froggy.

[Illustration: THE END]

[Illustration: Song: THE FROG WHO WOULD A WOOING GO]

THE FROG WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO.

BY CHARLES BENNETT.

On the quiet sedgy bank of a stagnant pool, and under the shadow of rank
reeds and bulrushes, sat two frogs. They had retired from the shoal, who
were disporting themselves in the water, and were earnestly talking. The
elder of the two, an old matron, addressing the younger, who, by-the-by,
was her son, said,--

"My dear Froggy, you had better stop quietly with me; you do not know
what dangers you may encounter, if you leave your secluded home."

"Croak, croak!" said Froggy.

"Ah, my son!" continued the old lady, "I see that, like most young
frogs, you are very obstinate, and will not listen to reason. But why on
earth you should wish to go gadding after a poor, hungry little mouse,
is more than I can tell--you with your beautiful legs and speckled coat,
born to a splendid estate of reeds and water, the heir of nine bulrushes
and a water-lily. I thought you were more of a frog."

"Croak, croak!" said Froggy again.

"Have you thought of the boys who throw stones?"

"Croak!"

"Or the birds with long beaks?"

"Croak!"

"Or the ducks?"

"Croak!"

"If you want to go a-wooing, there are frogs in your own station in
life; indeed, with your personal appearance, you might even aspire to an
eft or a lizard."

"Croak!" persisted the sulky little Frog.

"You are no better than a tadpole!" said his mother, getting very angry
at last; and no sooner were the words out of her lips, than up jumped
Master Froggy in a passion, and taking his opera-hat under his arm, off
he went at a rapid pace, singing at the top of his voice, so as to hide
his rage,--

"Rowley, powley, gammon and spinach.
'Heigh O!' says Anthony Rowley."

Froggy had not walked very far before he saw, jogging on before him, a
brown little fellow in a long-tail coat and Blucher boots, who carried
an old cotton umbrella. "Dear me," thought the Frog, "that looks like my
friend Mr. Rat;" and sure enough so it was.

"How do you do?" asked Master Froggy, when he had overtaken him.

"Pretty well!--How's your self?-