n to wish, as he had never wished before, that
he wasn't a frog.

"Now, vain desires are the most persistent of all.

"The frog wished and wished, and cursed himself for a fool, and wished
again.... At last he could bear it no longer, so he went to a
water-rat who was so old that he was said to be wise, and sought his
advice.

"The water-rat was painfully outspoken. 'Once a frog, always a frog,'
he said.

"'Always?'

"'Always. Unless you can find a Princess and persuade her to kiss
you.' And, being an old rat, he chuckled at his own joke.

"But the frog didn't see anything to laugh at. He just became so
excited that he could hardly float, and then he turned round and
started to swim back to the pool as hard as ever he could....

"By the next morning his excitement had somewhat abated. Of course he
was tremendously lucky to have found a Princess. (Being an optimist,
you see, he assumed that she would reappear.) But it was quite another
matter to persuade her to kiss him. Still, he didn't give up hope, and
every day he raced and tore after the flies, so as to get back early to
the pool.

"Then one day the impossible thing happened.

"There was the Princess again on the bank of the pool, and when the
frog put up his nose and fixed her with a bulging and glassy eye, she
smiled at him. Very haltingly the frog swam to land and crouched at
her feet, and, before he knew where he was, she had stooped and kissed
him.

"The frog just shut his eyes in ecstasy and gloated upon the fulfilment
of his desire. It had happened. His wish had been gratified. The
change had come. He was no longer a frog. For the first time he began
to wonder what he was. Probably a Prince. Oh, undoubtedly a Prince.
All clad in gold and silver, with a little fair moustache. He hoped
very much that he had a fair moustache. But he wouldn't put up his
hand and feel, for fear of spoiling it. He wanted to look at himself
gradually, beginning with his feet and working upwards. He began to
wonder what sort of boots he had on. He decided that he was wearing
soft gold boots, with silver laces....

"Cautiously he opened one eye and glanced at his right foot. He was
quite wrong. It wasn't a gold boot at all. It was a queer-looking
boot, all smooth and shiny and shaped--well, rather like--like a frog's
foot. In fact, if he hadn't known that he was no longer a frog, he
would have said---- A frightful thought came to him, and he o