for a few days after grandpa croaker, the old frog gentleman, had been wound around the toadstool by the snake, as i told you in the story before this one, he was so sore and stiff from the squeezing he had received, that he had to sit in an easy chair, and eat hot mush with sugar on. and, in order that he would not be lonesome, bawly and bully no-tail, the frog boys, sat near him, and read him funny things from their school books, or the paper, and grandpa croaker was very thankful to them.

the frog boys wanted very much to go away and play ball with their friends, for, it being the easter vacation, there was no school, but, instead, they remained at home nearly all the while, so grandpa wouldn’t feel lonesome.

but at last one day the old gentleman frog said:

“now, boys, i’m sure you must be very tired of staying with me so much. you need a little vacation. i am almost well now, so i’ll hop over and see uncle wiggily longears. then you may go and play ball, and here is a penny for each of you.”

well, of course bully and bawly thanked their grandpa, though they really hadn’t expected anything like that, and off they hopped to the store to spend the money. for they had saved all the pennies for a long time, and they were now allowed to buy something.

bully bought a picture post card to send to aunt lettie, the nice old lady goat, and bawly bought a bean shooter. that is a long piece of tin, with a hole through it like a pipe, and you put in a bean at one end, blow on the other end, and out pops the bean like a cork out of a soda water bottle.

“what are you going to do with that bean shooter?” asked bully of his brother.

“oh, i’m going to carry it instead of a gun,” said bawly, “and if i see that bad alligator, or snake, again i’ll shoot ’em with beans.”

“beans, won’t hurt ’em much,” spoke bully.

“no, but maybe the beans will tickle ’em so they’ll laugh and run away,” replied his brother. then they hopped on through the woods, and pretty soon they met peetie and jackie bow wow, the puppy dogs.

“let’s have a ball game,” suggested peetie, as he wiggled his left ear.

“oh, yes!” cried jackie, as he dug a hole in the ground to see if he could find a juicy bone, but he couldn’t i’m sorry to say.

well, they started the ball game, and bawly was so fond of his bean shooter that he kept it with him all the while, and several times, when the balls were high in the air, he tried to hit them by blowing beans at them. but he couldn’t, though the beans popped out very nicely.

but finally the other players didn’t like bawly to do that, for the beans came down all around them, and tickled them so that they had to laugh, and they couldn’t play ball.

then bawly said he’d lay his shooter down in the grass, but before he could do so his brother bully knocked such a high flying ball that you could hardly see it.

“oh, grab it, bawly! grab it!” cried peetie and jackie, dancing about on the ends of their tails, for bawly was supposed to chase after the balls. away he went with his bean shooter, almost as fast as an automobile.

farther and farther went the ball, and bawly was chasing after it. all of a sudden he found himself in the back yard of a house where the ball had bounced over the fence, and of course, being a good ball player, bawly kept right on after it. but he never expected to find himself in the yard, and he certainly never expected to see what he did see.

for there was a great, big, ugly, cruel boy, and he had something in his hand. at first bawly couldn’t tell what it was, and then, to his surprise, he saw that the boy had caught jollie longtail, the nice little mousie boy, about whom i once told you.

“ah ha! now i have you!” cried the boy to the mouse. “you went in the feed box in my father’s barn, and i have caught you.”

“oh, but i only took the least bit of corn,” said jollie longtail. but the boy didn’t understand the mouse language, though bawly did.

“i’m going to tie your tail in a knot, hang you over the clothes line and then throw stones at you!” went on the cruel boy. “that will teach you to keep away from our place. we don’t like mice.”

well, poor jollie longtail shivered and shook, and tried to get away from that boy, but he couldn’t, and then the boy began tying a knot in the mousie’s tail, so he could fasten jollie to the clothes line in the yard.

“oh, this is terrible!” cried bawly, and he forgot all about the ball that was lying in the grass close beside him. “how sorry i am for poor jollie,” thought bawly.

“there’s one knot!” cried the boy as he made it. “now for another!”

poor jollie squirmed and wiggled, but he couldn’t get away.

“now for the last knot, and then i’ll tie you on the clothes line,” spoke the boy, twisting jollie’s tail very hard.

“oh, if he ever gets tied on the clothes line that will be the last of him!” thought bawly. “i wonder how i can save him?”

bawly thought, and thought, and thought, and finally he thought of his bean shooter, and the beans he still had with him.

“that’s the very thing!” he whispered. then he hid down in the grass, where the boy couldn’t see him, and just as that boy was about to tie jollie to the line, bawly put a bean in the shooter, put the shooter in his mouth, puffed out his cheeks and “bango!” a bean hit the boy on the nose!

“ha!” cried the boy. “who did that?” he looked all around and he thought, maybe, it was a hailstone, but there weren’t any storm clouds in the sky. then the boy once more started to tie jollie to the line.

“bungo!” went a bean on his left ear, hitting him quite hard.

“stop that!” the boy cried, winking his eyes very fast.

“cracko!” went a bean on his right ear, for bawly was blowing them very fast now.

“oh, wait until i get hold of you, whoever you are!” shouted the boy, looking all around, but he could see no one, for bawly was hiding in the grass.

“smacko!” went a bean on the boy’s nose again, and then he danced up and down, and was so excited that he dropped poor jollie in the soft grass, and away the mousie scampered to where he saw bawly hiding.

then bawly kindly loosened the knots in the mousie’s tail, picked up the ball, and away they both scampered back to the game, and told their friends what had happened. and maybe jollie wasn’t thankful to bawly! well, i just guess he was! and that boy was so kerslastrated, about not being able to find out who blew the beans at him, that he stood right up on his head and wiggled his feet in the air, and then ran into the house.

now, if it should happen that our pussy cat doesn’t go roller skating and fall down and hurt its little nose so he can’t lap up his milk, i’ll tell you next about bully and the water bottle.