“A great green tear rolled down from the frog’s bulging eye, and splashed beside the bird’s drinking-place.  She looked up in alarm, and said, in the sweetest voice imaginable, ’Can I do anything to assist you?’

“‘I am sure I don’t know,’ croaked Arthur, hoarse as if he had been born with a sore throat.

“‘But what is the matter?’ persisted the little brown bird, as more green tears splashed beside her.

“‘The matter is that I am a frog, I suppose,’ said Arthur, rather rudely.

“‘Well, what of that?’ still said the little bird.  ’Frogs are very respectable.’

“‘Are they, indeed; then I’d rather not be respectable,’ said Arthur.

“‘You shock me,’ said the bird.

“‘I don’t wonder; it has been a great shock to me,’ responded Arthur.

“‘What has?’ said the bird.

“‘Being a frog,’ replied Arthur.

“’Have you not always?  Oh no; I presume you were once a tadpole; all frogs are at first.’

“‘Indeed I never was a tadpole,’ said Arthur, indignantly; and then, it seeming somewhat a funny idea to him, he began to laugh in the hoarsest, croakiest kerthumps, which brought him to his senses again.  Then he added, to the little brown bird which fluttered about him in some agitation, ’No, I never was a tadpole—­I was a boy named Arthur a few moments ago.’

“‘Aha!’ twittered the little brown bird, ’I see now:  you have been bewitched.’

“‘I suppose so,’ said Arthur, ’and I would gladly be bewitched into a boy again, if that would do any good.’

“’I must try and see what I can do for you.  I am very busy repairing my nest—­it was injured in the last storm; but I will go as soon as I can to see one of the herb elves, and find out what is to be done.  You must have displeased them very much.’

“‘You are very kind,’ replied Arthur, taking no notice of the latter words.

“‘Oh no, not at all; it is a pleasure,’ said the little brown bird.

“‘Can I do anything for you?’ asked Arthur, roused into politeness by the pleasant manners of his little friend.

“’You might gather some twigs or moss.  Oh no, it would be all wet, and I should have great bother in drying it,’ said the little house-keeper.  ’I am equally obliged, but you had better just stay quiet and keep cool till I return’; and she flew softly away.

“‘I can keep cool enough,’ repeated Arthur; ’when one’s legs are in the water, it would be pretty hard to do anything else.’

“It seemed dreadfully long to wait, when all he could do was to wink and yawn and gobble flies, and yet lounging in the woods and killing flowers had never seemed tedious when he was a boy.  He tried to go to sleep, but was in too great a bewilderment to quietly close his eyes in slumber, so he gazed at the brook, and wondered when the little brown bird would reappear.”

CHAPTER XII