Two Foolish Little Frogs

Southland Times, Issue 22146, 14 October 1933, Page 18

Two Foolish Little Frogs

To little foolish frogs, Playing about one day, Found themselves on a dairy shelf, Sniffing the curds and whey. Two little foolish frogs, Hopping along a beam, Fell flop from the dairy roof, Into a pail of cream. “Oh! What a jolly lark!” Said the first little foolish frog, “It’s as good as a picnic, I declare, In our own little marshy bog!” But the first little foolish frog, Soon got a terrible fright, For he was heavy and short of breath While the lathery cream was light. And he felt—this floundering frog— As if he wore of lead, And he kicked and struggled and screamed for help, And entirely lost his head. And this little foolish frog, Never properly tried to swim, But floundered about; then down he sank, And that was the end of him. So one little foolish frog Was lost in a creamy grave, But the other one said, “I’m a British frog, , „ And British frogs are brave. So he made up his little mind,

That he wouldn’t get fussed, nor shout, But keep on steadily trying to swim, As long as his breath held out. So the staunch little stick-to-it frog, Kept struggling gamely on, And spluttered and splashed in the foamy cream, Till his strength was almost gone. And just as this panting frog, Was feeling about dead-beat, He suddenly felt there was something firm, On which he could rest his feet. And he felt so full of surprise, Not a single croak could he utter. But the fact was this—he’d worked so hard, That he’d churned the cream to butter. On the pat for a while he sat, Then jumped out safe on the floor, And hurried off to his native pond, Out through the dairy door. And this is the point of the tale— When your pluck is put to the test, Don’t leave off trying like number one, But keep on doing your best. Keep steadily striking out, Like game little number two, It may have an effect you didn’t expect, That will serve to pull you through. —3 marks to Cousin Marion Robertson (15), Bainfield Road.