bawly no-tail, the frog boy, had been kept in after school one day for whispering. it was something he very seldom did in class, and i’m quite surprised that he did it this time.

you see, he was very anxious to play in a ball game, and when teacher went to the blackboard to draw a picture of a cat, so the pupils could spell the word better, bawly leaned over and asked sammie littletail, the rabbit boy, in a whisper:

“say, sammie, will you have a game of ball after school?”

sammie shook his head “yes,” but he didn’t talk. and the lady mouse teacher heard bawly whispering, and she made him stay in. but he was sorry for it, and promised not to do it again, and so he wasn’t kept in very late.

well, after a while the nice mouse teacher said bawly could go, and soon he was on his way home, and he was wondering if he would meet sammie or any of his friends, but he didn’t, as they had hurried down to the vacant lots, where the circus tents were being put up for a show.

“oh, my, how lonesome it is!” exclaimed bawly. “i wish i had some one to play with. i wonder where all the boys are?”

“i don’t know where they are,” suddenly answered a voice, “but if you like, bawly, i will play house with you. i have my doll, and we can have lots of fun.”

bawly looked around, to make sure it wasn’t a wolf or a bad owl trying to fool him, and there he saw arabella chick, the little chicken girl, standing by a big pie-plant. it wasn’t a plant that pies grow on, you understand, but the kind of plant that mamma makes pies from.

“don’t you want to play house?” asked arabella, kindly, of bawly.

“no—no thank you, i—i guess not,” answered bawly, bashfully standing first on one leg, and then on the other. “i—er—that is—well, you know, only girls play house,” the frog boy said, for, though he liked arabella very much, he was afraid that if he played house with her some of his friends might come along and laugh at him.

“some boys play house,” answered the little chicken girl. “but no matter. perhaps you would like to come to the store with me.”[pg 125]

“what are you going to get?” asked bawly, curious like.

“some kernels of corn for supper,” answered arabella, “and i also have a penny to spend for myself. i am going to get some watercress candy, and—”

“oh, i’ll gladly come to the store with you,” cried bawly, real excited like. “i’ll go right along. i don’t care very much about playing ball with the boys. i’d rather go with you.”

“i’ll give you some of my candy if you come,” went on arabella, who didn’t like to go alone.

“i thought—that is, i hoped you would,” spoke bawly, shyly-like. well, the frog boy and the chicken girl went on to the store, and arabella got the corn, and also a penny’s worth of nice candy flavored with watercress, which is almost as good as spearmint gum.

the two friends were walking along toward home, each one taking a bite of candy now and then, and bawly was carrying the basket of corn. he was taking a nice bite off the stick of candy that arabella held out to him, and he was thinking how kind she was, when, all of a sudden the frog boy stumbled and fell, and before he knew it the basket of corn slipped from his paw, and into a pond of water it fell—ker-splash!

“oh dear!” cried arabella.

“oh dear!” also cried bawly. “now i have gone and done it; haven’t i?”

“but—but i guess you didn’t mean to,” spoke arabella, kindly.

“no,” replied bawly, “i certainly did not. but perhaps i can get the corn up for you. i’ll reach down and try.”

so he stretched out on the bank of the pond, and reached his front leg down into the water as far as it would go, but he couldn’t touch the corn, for it was scattered out of the basket, all over the floor, or bottom, of the pond.

“that will never do!” cried bawly. “i guess i’ll have to dive down for that corn.”

“dive down!” exclaimed arabella. “oh, if you dive down under water you’ll get all wet. wait, and perhaps the water will all run out of the pond and we can then get the corn.”

“oh i don’t mind the wet,” replied the frog boy. “my clothes are made purposely for that. i’m so sorry i spilled the corn.” so into the water bawly popped, clothes and all, just as when you fall out of a boat, and down to the bottom he went. but when he tried to pick up the corn he had trouble. for the kernels were all wet and slippery and bawly couldn’t very well hold his paw full of corn, and swim at the same time. so he had to let go of the corn, and up he popped.

“oh!” cried arabella, when she saw he didn’t have any corn. “i’m so sorry! what shall we do? we need the corn for supper.”

“i’ll try again,” promised bawly, and he did, again and again, but still he couldn’t get any of the corn up from under the water. and he felt badly, and so did arabella, and even eating what they had left of the candy didn’t make them feel any better.

“i tell you what it is!” cried bawly, after he had tried forty-’leven times to dive down after the corn, “what i need is something like an ash sieve. then i could scoop up the corn and water, and the water would run out, and leave the corn there.”

“but you haven’t any sieve,” said arabella, “and so you can never get the corn, and we won’t have any supper, and—— oh, dear! boo-hoo! hoo-boo!”

“oh, please don’t cry,” begged bawly, who felt badly enough himself. “here, wait, i’ll see if i can’t drink all the water out of the pond, and that will leave the ground dry so we can get the corn.”

well, he tried, but, bless you, he couldn’t begin to drink all the water in the pond. and he didn’t know what to do, until, all of a sudden, he saw, coming along the road, aunt lettie, the nice old lady goat. and what do you think she had? why, a coffee strainer, that she had bought at the five-and-ten-cent store. as soon as bawly saw that strainer he asked aunt lettie if he could take it.

she said he could, and pretty soon down he dived under the water again, and with the coffee strainer it was very easy to scoop up the corn from the bottom of the pond, and soon bawly got it all back again, and the water hadn’t hurt it a bit, only making it more tender and juicy for cooking.

and just as bawly got up the last of the corn in the coffee strainer, down swooped a big owl, and he tried to grab bawly and arabella and the corn and sieve and aunt lettie, all at the same time. but the old lady goat drove him away with her sharp horns, and then bawly and arabella thanked her very kindly and went home, the frog boy carrying the corn he had gotten up from the pond, and taking care not to spill it again. and so every one was happy but the owl.

now in case the fish man doesn’t paint the glass of the parlor windows sky-blue pink, so i can’t see uncle wiggily longears when he rings the door bell, i’ll tell you next about bully and dottie trot.