"I have found him," said the Shrew-mouse; "he's down there—as usual."
"Down where?" said the Natterjack.
"Down in the water," said the Shrew-mouse, "down at the bottom of this pool, a good foot down."
"Would you mind asking him to come up?" said the Natterjack.
"I've asked him for five minutes," said the Shrew-mouse. "He must be fast asleep. I know he's there; I've seen his bubbles."
"How can we wake him?" said the Natterjack.
"You'd better dive," said the Shrew-mouse.
Now Natterjacks are bad enough at swimming; at diving they are hopeless.
"In you go," said the Shrew-mouse.
For very shame the Natterjack went in.
He swam to what he judged a likely spot, ducked down his head, his hands pressed tight against it, and lunged with both hind-legs. These, splashing on the surface, urged him on, but not one inch below.
Five times he tried, and five times his fat body, when half submerged, shot up and bobbed afloat.
Five Times He Tried, and Five Times His Fat Body, when Half Submerged, Shot Up and Bobbed Afloat
The Shrew-Mouse drew all Four Feet together and Slithered Eel-wise off the Ledge
The Shrew-mouse rocked with laughter.
"Again, Natterjack!" she cried. "Again! again!"
Shame-faced, he paddled back to shore.
"Be charitable, Shrew-mouse, be charitable. I did my best."
The Shrew-mouse looked at him inquiringly. "Never mind, Natterjack," she said, "I'll fetch him. It's hardly the right thing to do, but still–"
She climbed a ledge, drew all four feet together, and slithered off it eel-wise. She swam a yard and dived. The water closed like oil upon her going. Ten seconds passed and then she reappeared.
"He's coming, Natterjack," she said, and landed close beside him. The French Frog shot up like a cork, and half of him splashed clear above the surface. He took two strokes to reach the shore, and came out moist and shiny. He bristled with apologies—"It was unpardonable. He was altogether desolated. That a lady should have had to dive for him. Alas! he had been dreaming, and his dream, like all his dreams–"
He Bristled with Apologies
The Shrew-mouse cut him short.
"The King Toad has heard your singing," she said, "and has commanded your presence. The Natterjack will guide you."
Ambition strove with gallantry, and, for a time, the French Frog wavered.
"And have I your permission, Shrew-mouse?" he said, at last.
"Please go," said she, "then come and tell me all about it." So both departed. The Shrew-mouse watched them out of sight, then swam to open water. She wished the Rat to see her next.
"Sire," said the Natterjack, "it is my privilege to inform you that I have been successful."
The King Toad made no answer. His eyes turned from the Natterjack to his companion, and, after an appropriate pause, he signed with one fore-foot.
The French Frog tiptoed forward.
"I have heard your singing," said the King Toad, "and your singing has annoyed me intensely."
There was a queer strained silence.
The Natterjack turned to conceal his face, and saw the Green Toad perched above him. He too was struggling to keep countenance. Beside him was the Salamander, wreathed in smiles.
The Green Toad, too, was Struggling to keep Countenance
"Your singing has annoyed me intensely," repeated the King Toad.
Words failed the French Frog, who could only gulp.
"Sire," he burst out at length, "it was a love-song."
"A love-song!" said the King Toad, "a love-song! and what nice-minded English frog would listen to your love-song?"
His Inside was Red-Hot
The French Frog might have scored a point, but prudence checked him.
"I am a poor exile, Sire," he said, "and, when I sing, my heart is far away."
"So will your voice be, soon," said the King affably. "Come out, fire-toads." The fire-toads squirmed from underneath him.
The French Frog eyed them greedily. There are worse eatables than little toads.
"You may have the big one," said the King.
"Sire!" screamed Bombinatrix.
But she was too late. The French Frog's mouth had closed again, and all now visible of Bombinator was one distraught hind leg.
He Lay as He had Fallen on His Back
"Excellent," murmured the King Toad, and watched the French Frog narrowly. He was worth watching. He paled a dirty ochre, his eyes rolled horribly, he scratched his sides with both hind feet, he dragged at his own throat, he gasped and foamed and spluttered.
"Most interesting," said the King.
But there was more to follow. The French Frog straddled with his toes wide spread; then came an uncontrollable explosion, which flung him four feet skywards, and, at the height of this great leap, loosed Bombinator.
Two thuds were heard, the first a sounding, floppy one, the second farther off and duller.
"I thought that would happen," said the King Toad.
The French Frog slowly pulled himself together, climbed up the slope, and sat with mouth agape. His inside was red-hot.
The Natterjack burst into song, the Green Toad joined him, the Salamander laughed outright, but Bombinatrix, with a heavy heart, hopped silently away.
She was not long in finding him. He lay, as he had fallen, on his back, his hands and feet outspread, his poor throat twitching. But he still breathed, breathed in short, wheezy, gasping sobs, which made his whole frame shudder.
She crept up close and whispered. I cannot tell you what she said, but Bombinator caught the sense of it. He stretched his legs as far as they would go, and clasped his hands beneath his chin. This seemed to ease his breathing, and presently, from every pore, welled a bead-drop of moisture. He lay thus for an hour, and Bombinatrix mounted guard beside him.
At last he moved, but Bombinatrix checked him instantly. "Down, Toad of mine," she whispered, "down for your dear life!"
"What is it now?" he groaned.
"Ducks," whispered Bombinatrix, "Great, Fat, White Ducks!"
"Ducks," whispered Bombinatrix, "Great, Fat, White Ducks"
ANIMALS' NESTS
(MARCH)
WHEN a young friend of mine told me the other day that he was going birds'-nesting, and I told him in reply that I was going animal-nesting, I think that, if he had not been a very polite young friend, he would have laughed at me. As it was he laughed with me—which was really very nice of him, for he must have been thinking all the time that I was laughing at him. But I was quite serious really. I was going animal-nesting. I hear you ask at once, "What animal was it?" and I might tease you by saying, "Any animal, of course. When you go birds'-nesting you look for any kind of bird's