Chapter XX: The Frog

The wicked boy who killed my friend, Medor, had at last (by dint of coaxing probably,) obtained pardon and permission to visit again at your grandmother’s. I could not bear him, you may well imagine, and I sought every opportunity of playing some ugly trick upon him, for I lacked charity and had not yet learned to forgive.

This Alfred was a coward, but always boasting of his courage. One day, when his father had brought him to your grandmother’s on a visit, the other children proposed a stroll in the woods. Maud, who ran ahead suddenly jumped aside screaming.

“What is the matter?” said William, running to her assistance.

“I was frightened at a frog that jumped on my foot.”

“Is it possible that you are afraid of frogs, Maud? For my part,” said Alfred, “I am afraid of nothing, of no animal.”

“Why then,” retorted Maud, “did you jump so high the other day, when I told you there was a spider on your arm?”

“Because I did not understand what you said to me.”

“Did not understand? It was very easily understood.”

“Certainly it was, if I had heard aright, but I thought you said, ‘look at that spider down there,’ and I jumped aside only to see it better.”

“The idea!” chimed in William, “that is not so, for as you jumped, you cried, ‘Oh, William, take it off, please!’”

“I meant to say, ‘take it off, so I can see it better.’”

“He is telling a story,” whispered Beatrice to Maud.

“So I perceive,” was Maud’s low response.

I was listening to the conversation and profited by it, as you will see. The children were seated upon the grass, and I was near, having followed them. Perceiving a little green frog very near Alfred’s open pocket, my plan was quickly formed and easily executed. Approaching noiselessly, I seized the frog by one leg, and slyly dropped it into the little boaster’s pocket, quietly withdrawing as soon as the deed was done, so that Alfred might not suspect me of having made him this beautiful present.

I could not hear distinctly all the conversation, but I distinguished this much, that Alfred continued to boast of his courage, he was afraid of no creature, not even of lions, at which the rest uttered an exclamation of incredulity. Just at this moment Alfred wished to blow his nose. Running his hand into his pocket, he withdrew it with a cry of terror, and rising precipitately, screamed aloud:

“Take it out! take it out! Oh! I beg you to take it out! I am so afraid! Help! help!”

“What is the matter, Alfred?” said Maud, half laughing, half frightened.

“An animal! an animal! Take it out, I beg you!”

“What animal do you mean, and where is it?” said William.

“In my pocket! I felt it, I touched it! Oh! take it out, take it away! I am afraid of it, I dare not touch it!”

“Do it yourself, you coward!” replied Henry, indignantly.

“Well, just listen,” said Elizabeth, “he is afraid of something in his pocket, and wants us to take it out, because he dares not touch it!”

After their first fright, the children were greatly amused at Alfred’s contortions, who knew not how to rid himself of the creature he felt wriggling about in his pocket. His terror increased with every movement of the frog. At last, frightened almost to distraction, and finding no other means of escape from this creature that he felt moving and yet dared not touch, he pulled off his jacket and threw it on the ground, remaining in his shirt sleeves. The others burst out laughing and made a rush for the jacket. Henry opened the hind pocket; the imprisoned frog seeing daylight, darted through the opening, narrow as it was, and each one saw a pretty little scared frog, that sought safety in desperate efforts to put itself out of reach.

“The enemy has taken flight,” said Maud, laughing.

“Take care it doesn’t chase you,” said William.

“Don’t go too near, it might devour you!” said Henry.

“Nothing is so dangerous as a frog!” added Beatrice.

“If it were only a lion, Alfred would attack it!” chimed in Elizabeth, “but a frog! All his courage could not defend him from its claws!”

“You forget its teeth!” continued Louis.

“You may pick up your jacket,” said James, catching the frog. “I hold your enemy prisoner.”

Alfred remained motionless and mute with shame at having thus exposed himself to so much ridicule.

“Let us dress him,” cried William, “he has not strength enough to put on his jacket!”

“Take care,” said Henry “that a fly or a gnat is not on it, for that would be a new danger to fear!”

Alfred tried to escape, but all the children, big and little ran after him; William holding the jacket, the others pursuing the coward and endeavoring to intercept his retreat. It was a very amusing race for all but poor Alfred, who, red with shame and anger, ran first to the right and then to the left, and everywhere encountered an enemy. I joined the party, and galloped before and behind him, increasing his fear by braying and attempting to seize him by the seat of his trousers; once I caught him, but he jerked away leaving a piece of the trousers in my mouth which increased the other children’s laughter. I succeeded at last in catching him with a firm hold, he uttered such a cry, that, for an instant, I feared having seized skin as well as cloth. William and Henry were the first to reach him; he tried to struggle against them, but I pulled him gently, at which he screamed again, and then became as meek as a lamb, never budging any more than a statue whilst William and Henry put his jacket on him. Seeing that my services were no longer needed, I released him, and went my way delighted at having succeeded in rendering him so ridiculous. He never knew how that frog got into his pocket, and from that lucky day he dared boast no more of his courage—before the children.