Chapter 15

GRANDFATHER FROG GIVES UP HOPE

With his legs tied together, hanging head down from the end of a string, Grandfather Frog was being carried he knew not where by Farmer Brown's boy. It was dreadful. Half-way across the Green Meadows the Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind came dancing along. At first they didn't see Grandfather Frog, but presently one of them, rushing up to tease Farmer Brown's boy by blowing off his hat, caught sight of Grandfather Frog.

Now the Merry Little Breezes are great friends of Grandfather Frog. Many, many times they have blown foolish green flies over to him as he sat on his big green lily-pad, and they are very fond of him. So when this one caught sight of him in such a dreadful position, he forgot all about teasing Farmer Brown's boy. He raced away to tell the other Merry Little Breezes. For a minute they were perfectly still. They forgot all about being merry.

"It's awful, just perfectly awful!" cried one.

"We must do something to help Grandfather Frog!" cried another.

"Of course we must," said a third.

"But what can we do?" asked a fourth.

Nobody replied. They just thought and thought and thought. Finally the first one spoke. "We might try to comfort him a little," said he.

"Of course we will do that!" they shouted all together.

"And if we throw dust in the face of Farmer Brown's boy and steal his hat, perhaps he will put Grandfather Frog down," continued the Merry Little Breeze.

"The very thing!" the others cried, dancing about with excitement.

"Then we can rush about and tell all Grandfather Frog's friends what has happened to him and where he is. Perhaps some of them can help us," the Little Breeze continued.

They wasted no more time talking, but raced after Farmer Brown's boy as fast as they could go. One of them, who was faster than the others, ran ahead and whispered in Grandfather Frog's ear that they were coming to help him. But poor old Grandfather Frog couldn't be comforted. He couldn't see what there was that the Merry Little Breezes could do. His legs smarted where the string cut into the skin, and his head ached, for you know he was hanging head down. No, Sir, Grandfather Frog couldn't be comforted. He was in a terrible fix, and he couldn't see any way out of it. He hadn't the least bit of hope left. And all the time Farmer Brown's boy was trudging along, whistling merrily. You see, it didn't occur to him to think how Grandfather Frog must be suffering and how terribly frightened he must be. He wasn't cruel. No, indeed, Farmer Brown's boy wasn't cruel. That is, he didn't mean to be cruel. He was just thoughtless, like a great many other boys, and girls too.

So he went whistling on his way until he reached the Long Lane leading from the Green Meadows up to Farmer