GRANDFATHER FROG IS STUBBORN

  “Fee, fi, fe, fum! 
  Chug, chug, chugarum!”

Grandfather actually had started out to see the Great World.  Yes, Sir, he had turned his back on the Smiling Pool, and nothing that Jerry Muskrat could say made the least bit of difference.  Grandfather Frog had made up his mind, and when he does that, it is just a waste of time and breath for any one to try to make him change it.  You see Grandfather Frog is stubborn.  Yes, that is just the word—­stubborn.  He would see for himself what this Great World was that his cousin, old Mr. Toad, talked so much about and said was so much better than the Smiling Pool where Grandfather Frog had spent his whole life.

“If old Mr. Toad can take care of himself, I can take care of myself out in the Great World,” said Grandfather Frog, to himself as, with great jumps, he started out on to the Green Meadows.  “I guess he isn’t any smarter than I am!  He isn’t half so spry as I am, and I can jump three times as far as he can.  I’ll see for myself what this Great World is like, and then I’ll go back to the Smiling Pool and stay there the rest of my life.  Chugarum, how warm it is!”

It was warm.  Jolly, round, bright Mr. Sun was smiling his broadest and pouring his warmest rays down on the Green Meadows.  The Merry Little Breezes of Old Mother West Wind were taking a nap.  You see, they had played so hard early in the morning that they were tired.  So there was nobody and nothing to cool Grandfather Frog, and he just grew warmer and warmer with every jump.  He began to grow thirsty, and how he did long for a plunge in the dear, cool Smiling Pool!  But he was stubborn.  He wouldn’t turn back, no matter how uncomfortable he felt.  He would see the Great World if it killed him.  So he kept right on, jump, jump, jump, jump.

Grandfather Frog had been up the Laughing Brook and down the Laughing Brook, where he could swim when he grew tired of traveling on the bank, and where he could cool off whenever he became too warm, but never before had he been very far away from water, and he found this a very different matter.  At first he had made great jumps, for that is what his long legs were given him for; but the long grass bothered him, and after a little the jumps grew shorter and shorter and shorter, and with every jump he puffed and puffed and presently began to grunt.  You see he never before had made more than a few jumps at a time without resting, and his legs grew tired in a very little while.

Now if Grandfather Frog had known as much about the Green Meadows as the little people who live there all the time do, he would have taken the Lone Little Path, where the going was easy.  But he didn’t.  He just started right out without knowing where he was going, and of course the way was hard, very hard indeed.  The grass was so tall that he couldn’t see over it, and the ground was so rough that it hurt his tender feet, which were used to the soft, mossy bank of the Smiling Pool.  He had gone only a little way before he wished with all his might that he had never thought of seeing the Great World.  But he had said that he was going to and he would, so he kept right on—­jump, jump, rest, jump, jump, jump, rest, jump, and then a long rest.