rked that they must be getting near to the Pink Country.

On this jump they saw nothing but a monstrous turtle, which lay asleep
with its head and legs drawn into its shell. It was not in their way,
so they hurried on and rejoined the frog, which said to them, "I'm
sorry, but I'm due at the King's Court in a few minutes, and I can't
wait for your short, weak legs to make the journey to the Pink Country.
But if you will climb upon my back, I think I can carry you to the
border in one more leap."

"I'm tired," said Trot, "an' this awful fog's beginnin' to choke me.
Let's ride on the frog, Cap'n."

"Right you are, mate," he replied, and although he shook a bit with
fear, the old man at once began to climb to the frog's back. Trot
seated herself on one side of him and Button-bright on the other, and
the sailor put his arms around them both to hold them tight together.

"Are you ready?" asked the frog.

"Ding-dong!" cried the parrot.

"All aboard, let 'er go!
Jump the best jump that you know."

"Don't--don't! Jump sort o' easy, please," begged Cap'n Bill.

But the frog was unable to obey his request. Its powerful hind legs
straightened like steel springs and shot the big body, with its
passengers, through the fog like an arrow launched from a bow. They
gasped for breath and tried to hang on, and then suddenly the frog
landed just at the edge of the Fog Bank, stopping so abruptly that his
three riders left his back and shot far ahead of him. They felt the fog
melt away and found themselves bathed in glorious rays of sunshine, but
they had no time to consider this change because they were still
shooting through the air, and presently--before they could think of
anything at all--all three were rolling heels over head on the soft
grass of a meadow.

THE PINK COUNTRY

CHAPTER 13

When the travelers could collect their senses and sit up, they stared
about them in bewilderment, for the transition from the sticky, damp
fog to this brilliant scene was so abrupt as to daze them at first.

It was a Pink Country indeed. The grass was a soft pink, the trees were
pink, all the fences and buildings which they saw in the near distance
were pink--even the gravel in the pretty paths was pink. Many shades of
color were there, of course, grading from a faint blush rose to deep
pink verging on red, but no other color was visible. In the sky hung a
pink glow, with rosy clouds floating here and there, and the sun was
no