They hurried home after school, Alice and Lulu and Jimmie, I mean, because this story is about them, you see; and they got their pennies from their papa, and each one bought some watercress snails, preserved in salted cornmeal; very fine they were, too, for ducks.

Just as the three Wibblewobble children were finishing the last of the snails, who should come hopping along but Bully, the frog.  He hopped into the water to cool himself off and then, when he had hopped out again, he asked: 

“I say, Jimmie, are your folks expecting company?”

“I don’t think so,” answered Jimmie.  “I saw mamma setting the table and she wasn’t putting the clean cloth on.  No, I guess we’re not going to have company, or there’d be a clean cloth put on.  Why do you ask?”

“Because, as I was coming through the woods just now I met a funny looking creature asking the way to your pen.”

“Who was it?” inquired Lulu.

“Oh, it was a nice old lady.  She had long hair and she carried a basket and she wore such a funny bonnet!  Two sharp things stuck right out of the top of it.  I offered to show her the way here, but she said I went in the water so often that she couldn’t follow me, for she didn’t want to get her feet wet.  You must be going to have company.”

“Maybe we are!” cried Alice.  “Let’s go ask mamma.”

So they went, and asked their mother, but she said she did not know of any company coming, but, for fear some one might come along unexpectedly she did put the clean table cloth on, and she got out the napkins, and opened a jar of preserved sweet flag root.

“Come on,” proposed Lulu, after a bit, “let’s go through the woods.  Bully, you show us where you met the queer lady, and maybe we’ll see her.”

So the four started off, Bully hopping along in front, and pretty soon, just as they got to the place where the weeping willow tree stands, what should they hear but a funny noise.  It sounded like “Ma-a-a-a-a!” You know, just like a sheep cries.

“There she is!” exclaimed Bully.  “That’s just the way she talks.  And there she is!  Look!  The nice old lady!”

The three Wibblewobble children looked, and what should they see but a big white goat.  She was an old lady goat, and she was walking along with her basket on her arm, and the things sticking out of her bonnet were her horns.  As soon as she saw the children she called: 

“Oh, my dears, can you show me the way to Mrs. Wibblewobble’s?  I’m afraid I’m lost!”

“Why, Mrs. Wibblewobble is our mamma,” answered Lulu, quickly.

“Oh, my dears!  You don’t mean it!” cried the goat.  “Then you must be my little nieces and nephew I’ve heard so much about.  But who is this little green boy?  I’ve seen him before.”

“Oh, he’s the catcher on our base ball nine,” said Jimmie.  “He catches the balls in his mouth.  But, who are you, if I may be so bold as to ask?”