mustn't say so. It might
hurt his feelings."

"Yes," agreed Hugh, "it might. But we must say something polite."

"You say it," said Jeanne. "I really daren't stand up, and it's not so
easy to make a speech sitting down."

"Monsieur Frog, we are very much obliged to you," began Hugh. "Please
tell all the other frogs so too. We would like very much to hear the
concert. When does it begin, and where will it be?"

"All round the lake the performers will be stationed," replied the frog
pompously. "The chief artist occupies the island which you see from
here. If you move forward a little--to about half-way between the shore
and the island--you will, I think, be excellently placed. But first,"
seeing that Hugh was preparing to take up the oars, "first, you will
allow us, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to offer you a little
collation--some slight refreshment after all the fatigues of your
journey to our shores."

"Oh dear! oh dear!" whispered Jeanne in a terrible fright; "please say
'No, thank you,' Cheri. I _know_ they'll be bringing us that horrid
green stuff for soup."

"Thank you very much," said Hugh; "you are very kind indeed, Monsieur
Frog, only, really, we're not hungry."

"A little refreshment--a mere nothing," said the frog, waving his hands
in an elegantly persuasive manner. "Tadpoles"--in a brisk, authoritative
tone--"tadpoles, refreshments for our guests."

Jeanne shivered, but nevertheless could not help watching with
curiosity. Scores of little tadpoles came hopping up the sides of the
boat, each dozen or so of them carrying among them large water-lily
leaves, on each of which curious and dainty-looking little cakes and
bonbons were arranged. The first that was presented to Jeanne contained
neat little biscuits about the size of a half-crown piece, of a tempting
rich brown colour.

"Flag-flour cakes," said the frog. "We roast and grind the flour in our
own mills. You will find them good."

Jeanne took one and found it very good. She would have taken another,
but already a second tray-ful or leaf-ful was before her, with
pinky-looking balls.

"Those are made from the sugar of water-brambles," remarked the frog,
with a self-satisfied smile. "No doubt you are surprised at the delicacy
and refinement of our tastes. Many human beings are under the deplorable
mistake of supposing we live on slimy water and dirty insects--ha, ha,
ha! whereas our cuisine is astounding in variety and delicacy of
material and f