ON STICKING IT

Hawke's Bay Tribune, Volume XVII, 19 November 1927, Page 9

ON STICKING IT

Once upon a time, (this is going to be a good story, isn’t it? That’s how all the good ones begin), there were two very small frogs, who didn’t know very much about the big world and its dangers, but who were very keen to know as much as possible all the same. They were sitting (if frogs can sit) in the wash-house one day, because it was too dry outside and the wash-house was nice and wet. They had been having high jinks in the lovely puddles on the floor, and felt in the mood for a bigger kind of adventure.

“That water,” said one. “is terribly soapy and makes me sneeze. I believe I can smell something wet and fresh in that big jar.” The other one looked, and saw a very tall jar in the corner. “ I believe you’re right,” said he. “I bet you couldn’t jump into that jar to see what’s in it,’ said number one.

“ I bet I could,” said number two. nad no sooner had he said it than he took two hops and a skip and leapt right over the edge and landed plop into a beautiful white liquid. “Hooray!” he shouted, “come on in, friend. It’s milk! Cold, thick, lovely milk!”

His companion had to make two tries before he managed it, but he too cleared the edge of the jar and came down with a glorious splash in the milk. I can’t say that they were in clover because they weren’t; but they had a splendid time swimming round and round, diving and coming up again, and having long drinks of milk (if frogs drink milk. I am not quite sure.) After a while, the second one said: “I’m getting awfully tired. Let’s get out now.”

The first one, who was pretty tired himself, said that it was a good idea. So they tried to get out. But they couldn’t! The side of the jar was too far up, and they had nothing to stand on to get a jump. They were in a terrible fix.

“Oh, well,” said the first little frog, “it looks bad enough all right, and I don't see how we are ever ti get out of here alive, but I am going to go on swimming round and round this thing while I have one kick left in me. Keep your heart up, and never say die.” But the second little frog was not made like that.

“Oh, dear,” he gurgled, “ I can't hold out any longer. We are both sure to be drowned, so I don’t see the use of trying any longer.” So he threw up his arms (yes, I think frogs have arms), and he sank to the bottom and was drowned.

That, of course, was a sad loss as well as a severe blow to the other little frog, so he grit his teeth (I do believe I am wrong there), or he did whatever frogs do instead of gritting their teeth, and he made up his mind to swim and swim as long as he possibly could. And so he did. But finally, he had no more strength left, and said good-bye to the world as hae threw np his arms to join his friend at the bottom. Imagine his tremendous surprise when he found bis feet touching a good, hard lump of butter! He had churned it by going on swimming round and round. He carefully balanced himse'f on it, had a good breather (and I think a drink of milk) and leapt out and down to the floor again. Not much moral about that, is there? No, but what there is is good. Never say die!