When they reached the edge of the Fog Bank, the Pinkies
all halted to put on their raincoats, and Button-Bright
put up his umbrella and held it over himself and Trot.
Then, when everybody was ready, they entered the Fog
and Rosalie the Witch made a signal to call the Frog
King and his subjects to aid them as they had done
before.
Pretty soon the great frogs appeared, a long line
of them facing Trot and her Pink Army and sitting
upon their haunches close together.
“Turn around so we can get upon your backs,”
said Rosalie.
“Not yet,” answered the Frog King in a
gruff, deep voice. “You must first take
that insulting umbrella out of my dominions.”
“Why, what is there about my umbrella that seems
insulting?” asked Button-Bright in surprise.
“It is an intimation that you don’t like
our glorious climate and object to our delightful
fog and are trying to ward off its soulful, clinging
kisses,” replied the Frog King in an agitated
voice. “There has never been an umbrella
in my kingdom before, and I’ll not allow one
in it now. Take it away at once!”
“But we can’t,” explained Trot.
“We’ve got to take the umbrella with us
to the Pink Country. We’ll put it down if
you like, an’ cross the bank in this drizzle—which
may be clingin’ an’ soulful, but is too
wet to be comfort’ble. But the umbrella’s
got to go with us.”
“It can’t go another inch,” cried
the obstinate frog with an angry croak, “nor
shall any of your people advance another step while
that insulting umbrella is with you.”
Trot turned to Rosalie. “What shall we
do?” she asked.
“I really do not know,” replied the Witch,
greatly perplexed.
“Can’t you make the frogs let us
through?” inquired the boy.
“No, I have no power over the frogs,”
Rosalie answered. “They carried us before
as a favor, but if the king now insists that we cannot
pass with the umbrella, we must go back to the Blue
Country or leave your umbrella behind us.”
“We won’t do that!” said Button-Bright
indignantly. “Can’t we fight the
frogs?”
“Fight!” cried Trot. “Why,
see how big they are. They could eat up our whole
army if they wanted to.”
But just then, while they stood dismayed at this unfortunate
position, a queer thing happened. The umbrella
in Button-Bright’s hand began to tremble and
shake. He looked down at the handle and saw that
the red eyes of the carved elephant’s head were
rolling fiercely and sending out red sparks of anger
in all directions. The trunk swayed from side
to side, and the entire head began to swell and grow
larger.
In his fright, the boy sprang backward a step and
dropped the umbrella to the ground, and as he did
so, it took the form of a complete elephant, growing
rapidly to a monstrous size. Then, flapping its
ears and wagging its tail—which was merely
the covered frame of the umbrella—the huge
elephant lifted its trunk and charged the line of
astonished frogs.
