ng like great fans. And as he flew way up in
the air his keen eye would see the little lake glistening down below.
"Quonk-quonk!" he would call. And the other wild ducks would answer,
"Quonk-quonk-quonk!" And then they would swoop, right down to the little
lake and they'd light right on the water. There they would sit, rocking
on the little waves or swimming about with their red webbed feet. Oh,
the wild ducks loved the little lake very much!

But not the slippery shiny fish, not the spotted green frog, not the
beautiful wild duck loves the lake as much as some one else does. I
don't believe any one else loves the little lake as much as does the
little summer boy! Sometimes the little summer boy goes rowing on top
of the lake. He leans way forward and stretches his oars way back,
then he puts them into the water and pulls as hard as ever he
can--splash--splash--splash--splash----! And the boat glides and slides
right over the water! Sometimes,--and this he loves better still,--he
stands on the rock in his red bathing suit. Then plump! he jumps right
into the water! Sometimes he goes feetwards and sometimes he goes
headwards and sometimes he turns a somersault in the air before he
touches the water. And then away he goes moving his arms and kicking his
legs almost like the spotted green frog. But the little fish when he
hears this great thing come splashing into the quiet water, he flips his
slippery shiny tail and waves his slippery shiny fins and darts way out
into the deep water where the little boy with the red bathing suit can't
follow him. For to the little fish this little summer boy seems very
queer, and very, _very_ noisy, and very, _very_, VERY enormous! And the
spotted green frog too gets out of the way when the little boy comes
racketing into the water. He hops, hops under the rocks into a safe
little cave and from there he watches and blinks his bright little eyes.
But he never croaks then! The little summer boy knows the green frog is
there and sometimes he peeks at him and thinks "I wish I could make my
back legs go like yours!" For he's often seen the spotted green frog
swim from rock to rock.

But the beautiful wild duck, he never saw the little summer boy. For
long before the boy came to the little lake, the duck had left the lake
far behind. Early one morning in Spring he flapped his strong wings and
tucked his wet webbed feet up close to his body and stretched out his
long neck and calling "Quonk-quo