The Frog Who Would A Wooing Go
THE FROG WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO. BY CHARLES BENNETT. On the quiet sedgy bank of a stagnant pool, and under the shadow of rank reeds and bulrushes, sat two frogs. They had retired from the shoal, who were disporting themselves in the water, and were earnestly talking. The elder of the two, an old matron, addressing the younger, who, by-the-by, was her son, said,-- "My dear Froggy, you had better stop quietly with me; you do not know what dangers you may encounter, if you leave your secluded home." "Croak, croak!" said Froggy. "Ah, my son!" continued the old lady, "I see that, like most young frogs, you are very obstinate, and will not listen to reason. But why on earth you should wish to go gadding after a poor, hungry little mouse, is more than I can tell--you with your beautiful legs and speckled coat, born to a splendid estate of reeds and water, the heir of nine bulrushes
Charles, however, is not a Refereader, while as to the Pink 'Un, he
considers it unsuitable for public perusal on Sunday morning. It may
be read indoors, but in the open air its blush betrays it. So he
shook his head, and muttered, "If you pass an Observer, send him on
here at once to me."
A polite stranger who sat close to us turned round with a pleasant
smile. "Would you allow me to offer you one?" he said, drawing a
copy from his pocket. "I fancy I bought the last. There's a run
on them to-day, you see. Important news this morning from the
Transvaal."
Charles raised his eyebrows, and accepted it, as I thought, just a
trifle grumpily. So, to remove the false impression his surliness
might produce on so benevolent a mind, I entered into conversation
with the polite stranger. He was a man of middle age, and medium
height, with a cultivated air, and a pair of gold pince-nez; his
eyes were sharp; his voice was refined; he dropped into talk before
long about distinguished people just then in Brighton. It was clear
at once that he was hand in glove with many of the very best kind.
We compared notes as to Nice, Rome, Florence, Cairo. Our new
acquaintance had scores of friends in common with us, it seemed;
indeed, our circles so largely coincided, that I wondered we had
never happened till then to knock up against one another.
"And Sir Charles Vandrift, the great African millionaire," he said
THE FROG WHO WOULD A-WOOING GO. BY CHARLES BENNETT. On the quiet sedgy bank of a stagnant pool, and under the shadow of rank reeds and bulrushes, sat two frogs. They had retired from the shoal, who were disporting themselves in the water, and were earnestly talking. The elder of the two, an old matron, addressing the younger, who, by-the-by, was her son, said,-- "My dear Froggy, you had better stop quietly with me; you do not know what dangers you may encounter, if you leave your secluded home." "Croak, croak!" said Froggy. "Ah, my son!" continued the old lady, "I see that, like most young frogs, you are very obstinate, and will not listen to reason. But why on earth you should wish to go gadding after a poor, hungry little mouse, is more than I can tell--you with your beautiful legs and speckled coat, born to a splendid estate of reeds and water, the heir of nine bulrushes