w Mr. Crow spring up and go tearing off towards the woods. And a
long, black tail-feather floated slowly down out of the air and settled
on the ground near the place where Mr. Crow had been standing.

After shaking his fist in Mr. Crow's direction, Farmer Green
disappeared.

"That's a pity," Mr. Frog thought. "Mr. Crow has parted with one of his
tail-feathers. And I must find him as soon as I can and tell him how
sorry I am."

Then Mr. Frog turned to look at the other pictures, which covered the
whole side of the big barn. He beheld many strange creatures--some with
necks of enormous length, some with humps on their backs, and all of
them of amazing colors.

But whether they were ringed, streaked or striped, not one of them
was--in Mr. Frog's opinion--one-half as beautiful as the hippopotamus.

"Even he----" Mr. Frog decided----"even he couldn't be called half as
handsome as I am. For once old Mr. Crow certainly was mistaken."

And he began to laugh. And while he was laughing, Farmer Green came out
of the barn with a pail of milk in each hand.

Then Ferdinand Frog had a happy thought. Why not ask Farmer Green to
shoot off the tail of the hippopotamus? The loss of that ugly tail would
improve the creature's looks, and make him appear still more like Mr.
Frog himself.

At least, that was Mr. Frog's own opinion.

And he called to Farmer Green and suggested to him that he step out
behind the barn and take a shot at the tail of the hippopotamus.

"Try your luck!" Mr. Frog coaxed. "It's plain to see that you need
practice, or you'd have made Mr. Crow part with all his tail-feathers,
instead of only one." And he laughed harder than ever.

But Farmer Green paid little heed to Ferdinand Frog's wheedling,
although he did smile and say:

"I declare, I believe that bull frog's jeering at me because I missed
the old crow!"

V

MR. FROG'S SECRET SORROW

Ferdinand Frog always looked so cheerful that no one ever suspected that
he had a secret sorrow. But it is true, nevertheless, that something
troubled him, though he took great pains not to let a single one of his
neighbors know that anything grieved him.

His trouble was simply this: he had never been invited to attend the
singing-parties which the Frog family held almost every evening in Cedar
Swamp.

Now, Ferdinand Frog loved to sing at night.

Indeed, he liked nothing better than to go to the lake not far from the
Beaver dam and practice his songs a