Part 1

_THE TRUE TO NATURE SERIES_

BULLY BULL FROG AND HIS HOME IN RAINBOW VALLEY

_By_ ELIZABETH STAFFORD FRY

_Pictures by_ FRANCES BEEM

RAND McNALLY & COMPANY CHICAGO NEW YORK

_Copyright, 1921, by_ RAND MCNALLY & COMPANY

_THE TRUE TO NATURE SERIES_

Adventures of Tommy Tad and Polly Wog More Adventures of Tommy Tad and Polly Wog Shellhouse, the Adventures of a Little Mud Turtle

THE CONTENTS

THE FROG POND

BULLY AND THE LARK

MRS. TOAD ARRIVES

BULLY'S NEW COAT

A RUDE STRANGER

JOHN BULL FROG'S STORY

BULLY AND THE WOOLLY WORM

THE TREE FROGS ARRIVE

DUCKS

BULLY'S NARROW ESCAPE

JOHN BULL FROG MAKES GOOD

MRS. HOUSE FROG ARRIVES AT THE POND

MRS. HOUSE FROG'S STORY

THE WONDERFUL NEST

NEWS

THE LARK'S STORY

THE ROBIN'S SECRET

THE ILLUSTRATIONS

Grandfather and Grandmother Bull Frog

"Good Morning," said the Lark, "aren't you lonely in this flower garden?"

"Why are you in such a rush," called Bully to the Woolly Worm

Bully saw the baby frogs disappearing in the Ducks' mouths

Bully danced a jig on his lily pad

"Have you gone crazy?" Golden Tree Frog asked the Crow

_To my little daughter_

Edith Louise

_Who is the joy and light of our home this book is affectionately dedicated_

BULLY BULL FROG

THE FROG POND

I should like to take all my young friends for a visit to a spot in a most beautiful valley. We will call it Rainbow Valley. Although this is not its real name, it will do for want of a better one.

At one side of this valley, nestled in against the hills, and quite hidden from sight by tall grasses and the overshadowing branches of trees, is a beautiful little lake. It is so tiny that perhaps we had better just call it a pond. In this pond are tall bulrushes that nod their heads in the summer breeze, and waving grasses and lovely pond lilies grow here.

In the center of the pond is a small island carpeted with wild flowers, ferns, and clinging vines. Great forest trees surround the pond on three sides and stretch their mighty arms far out over its still waters. On the other side a tall rocky cliff guards the pond. Large rocks poke their noses out of the water and jut out from the cliff. One old fallen tree, that once gave shade to the quiet waters beneath, lies still at the water's edge. On its branches the little bird built his nest, the squirrel sunned himself, and the great owl sat and called to his mate.

No one lives near this spot. Neither the trees nor anything about the pond has ever been visited by man. It is the home of the small folks I am going to tell you about in this story. These little folks think it the most beautiful and the safest place in the world. When you have heard this story, you will understand why they think so.

One warm spring day Bully's mother--it is really Bully's story I am going to tell you--placed her tiny eggs in the warm shallow water at the edge of the pond. After seeing that the eggs were in a safe spot, she swam away and paid no more attention to them. She felt quite sure Mother Nature would care for them and see that they hatched safely. And this Mother Nature did. In three or four weeks, from one of these tiny eggs came Bully. He was a very, very small person at that time, and seemed to be all head and tail. He at once fastened himself to something soft which grew in the pond and began to eat.

As the days went on and Bully ate and ate, he grew quite fast. Soon he was able to swim about in the water with his brothers and sisters. After a few days tiny legs could be seen growing out of each side of his body near his head. Bully didn't think much of this. In fact, all he did think about was something to eat. But that didn't worry him much, either, as there was plenty of soft food for him in the pond. When his front legs were about grown, two more legs began to show on each side of his body near his tail. As time passed and he began to use these legs in swimming, he found that he no longer needed a tail; so he didn't worry when it dropped off. Then Bully did not look much like the little fellow that had come from a tiny egg about four months before. Until now he had been a tadpole. But he was a tadpole no longer. I suppose there is not a boy or girl anywhere who does not know that Bully was now a young frog. Yes, he was a young frog, but a very tiny one. Before this he had spent all his time in the water. It seemed strange for him to be out of it. He breathed differently on land. In the water he obtained his supply of air like a fish through gills at the sides of his head. I suppose you all know that gills are tiny leaf-like sieves on either side of the head through which a fish or a tadpole takes the air from the water. When Bully became a frog, the gills disappeared. He could now breathe the air like a real frog. A change took place inside also. Another part, called a lobe, was added to his heart. So he became a frog inside as well as outside. Like some boys and girls, he wanted to be the same all through.

As Bully sat on the shore blinking his eyes in the bright sunshine, a gnat came flying right past his nose. As quick as a flash Bully put out his tongue, caught Mr. Gnat, and, in a twinkling of an eye, swallowed him. This was the first time he had tasted a live thing and, oh, how good it was! He decided right then that after this he would eat only live things.

Now I want to tell you about Bully's tongue. Your tongue, as you know, is fastened in the back part of your mouth and has one point on the front of it. You know, too, that you cannot put out your tongue very far. Bully's tongue is just the opposite of yours. His tongue is fastened in the front of his mouth just back of his teeth. On the end of it are two points which lie in the back of his mouth near his throat. When an insect comes near him, he can put out his whole tongue, just like opening a door out wide. He can fasten those two points around an insect, such as a gnat or a fly, and hold that insect fast until it is away down his throat. All this is done so quickly that if you were looking at him you could hardly tell just how he did it. Wouldn't it be fine if boys and girls had a tongue like that? It would be so easy to put out when the doctor asks to see it.

Now you know who Bully is and quite a good deal about him. When this story opens he is one year old. Last summer he was a tadpole and a tiny little frog. This is his second summer. You may think he is now a full-grown frog; but he isn't. He will not be a full-grown bullfrog until he is four years old.

We first hear of Bully on a fine day in early spring. The fields are putting on their new green coats. The buds are bursting open on tree and shrub. The wild flowers are beginning to fill the air with their fragrance. The birds are making the day glad with song. All nature seems to be full of joy. The sun smiles upon forest, hill, and field, not forgetting to warm the water of the Frog Pond. Bully is glad he is alive. He is on the shore busy catching gnats and flies. There are a great many other frogs living in this pond. The ones Bully admires most are Grandfather Bull Frog and Grandmother Bull Frog. They live on the island in the middle of the pond. Grandfather Bull Frog rules all the frogs in and about the pond. Bully wished he could be as big and strong as Grandfather Bull Frog. Grandmother Bull Frog told him that if he did his best, perhaps some day he would be as big and fine looking as Grandfather.

All the little frogs loved Grandmother Bull Frog. She looked after them and told them stories. Whenever Bully was in trouble, he always went to Grandmother. One day he asked her how the frogs happened to find such a safe place to live.

"A long, long time ago," Grandmother answered, "Grandfather Bull Frog and I lived in a very nice pond far away from here. It was in the field of a man who had two bad boys. We liked that home, for it was very pleasant. But those boys were cruel. They used to catch the young frogs and kill them. And they would throw stones at us whenever we got far enough out of the water so that they could see us. It was very annoying. I never could understand just why they did it. We did the boys no harm. One day when we did not know they were about, some of the young frogs had climbed upon a rock that lifted its head out of the water. Some of the old frogs were teaching these young frogs to sing. Everything was going along nicely, when a stone came flying right through the air toward the rock. Everyone jumped into the water as quickly as he could. Most of the frogs got away safely. But three young frogs were not quick enough and were smashed flat against the rock and killed. Oh, how dreadful it was! But those cruel boys laughed loudly. They seemed to think they had done a smart thing. We all hid down in the deep water and did not dare go out for anything to eat until we were nearly starved. Your Grandfather and I talked the matter over and decided we must leave our beautiful home and look for a safer place. We traveled for many days. At last we came to this pond. As there were no bad boys here or anything that would kill us, we decided to stay. Here we mean always to live."

"Oh, Grandmother, how dreadful!" little Bully cried. "Why can't we ask all the frogs to come and live here in this pond where there are no bad boys to kill them?"

"That would be fine," she answered; "but how could we send them word? We have no one to take the message to them. I think we should be as happy as we can and not think too much about the sorrow of others. But come now," she continued, "I can hear Grandfather Bull Frog calling everyone to the evening concert. We must hurry."

Each evening all the frogs came together for a grand concert. Bully thought this the very best time of the whole day. He liked to hear those big booming frog voices as they made the forest ring with their song. He always sat on a lily pad near Grandfather Bull Frog's island during the concert. To tell the truth, that was usually his bed, for he nearly always fell into a sound sleep before the concert was half through. This night while he slept he dreamed of bad boys throwing stones. He thought he was telling all the other frogs to come to Rainbow Valley and make their home in this dear old Frog Pond.

BULLY AND THE LARK

It was a beautiful morning in early spring. The old bullfrogs about the pond were singing so loudly that it seemed as if their cheeks must burst. The cat-tails were sending up tall, sturdy green shoots through the still water. The trees were bursting into full bloom. The little johnny-jump-ups and yellow buttercups turned their smiling faces up to the beautiful warm sun, and tiny dewdrops were like thousands of sparkling diamonds on the leaves and grasses. All nature seemed joyous and smiling in Rainbow Valley.

Everybody about the Frog Pond was happy except Bully. He was sitting on the old log this bright morning looking very glum. He didn't notice the beauty about him at all. You may wonder what was the matter with him. Surely a little frog has nothing to worry about! Maybe not, but anyhow, that was what he was doing.

He had been very unhappy ever since Grandmother Bull Frog had told him the story of the bad boys and the frogs. He had thought a great deal about it, and it made him sad. His little heart was heavy. He sat around all humped up and wished and wished there was some way to tell all the frogs about this lovely place and invite them to come here and make it their home. Oh, if he could only go himself to tell them! But he knew it was a long way off and that he couldn't find the way. Surely there must be a way to invite them if he could only think of it. He wished he could see his friend the Lark. Perhaps he could think of a plan. It seemed as if it could not be done. Grandmother Bull Frog had said it could not, and Bully knew Grandmother was a wise old frog.

Did you ever want anything very, very much? So much it fairly made you ache thinking about it? Perhaps it was a new hat or a new suit, a ticket to the picture show or to a circus. You thought and thought about how you might get the new hat or how you might get a ticket to the show. But it was all no use. You just didn't see any way to get what you wanted, yet you would not give up. That new hat or the ticket would bob up and keep on bobbing up in your mind and dancing before your eyes. Well, that is the way it was with Bully that lovely spring morning. He couldn't get rid of the longing to have all the other frogs come and share his home with him any more than a hungry boy could quit thinking about the dinner he wanted.

While he was thinking and thinking, a shadow passed swiftly before his face and made him jump. In another moment there was a whirr of wings and his friend the Lark was beside him. "My," said Bully, "how you made me jump!"

The Lark sang merrily, "I saw you sitting here looking so glum I thought I would frighten you a bit. But, friend Bully, what is your trouble? You ought to be hopping about trying out that voice of yours for the spring chorus instead of spending this fine morning in the dumps on this log."

"Well," said Bully, "I am worried and will tell you all about it, but I don't suppose it will do any good." But he brightened up a bit and told the Lark Grandmother Bull Frog's story of the bad boys and the frogs.

"Is that all that's bothering you?" asked his friend as he gobbled up a grasshopper that had been thoughtless enough to settle on the log near them.

"All!" exclaimed Bully. "Don't you think it's enough to make any frog feel badly?"

"Why, I suppose it is," replied the Lark after thinking a moment. "But I see many worse things happen to your family every day. Anyway, I don't think you can help things by making yourself so unhappy. Of course I would help all the frogs," he hastened to say, "but I see no way, and it keeps me busy looking out for my own family."

"What worse things do you see happen?" asked Bully.

"Oh," replied the Lark, "sometimes I see snakes swallow frogs whole. Often I see ducks, geese, and other big birds eat them. I see turtles eat them, too, and every now and then I see big water bugs destroying frogs' eggs. And I think," he went on to say, "the very worst thing of all that I see is men sitting on the bank, putting a fish hook right through a live frog, and then throwing the line in the water and jerking the frog about. Oh," he fluttered, "that's too dreadfully cruel to look at! I always fly away as quickly as I can and try to forget it. All these things are very, very dreadful," he said. "I can't bear to think about them."

Bully looked horrified. His big, round eyes nearly bulged out of his head and had such a frightened look. "Do you mean to tell me," he asked, "that all this is true?"

"Why, yes," said the Lark. "Do you think I would make up such dreadful stories? No, indeed, I couldn't think up such wicked things. But cheer up, Bully. It will do the other frogs no good for us to worry about them and it will only make us unhappy."

Bully was so sad he could just croak weakly, "Oo-oo, if only all the frogs could come here and live with us!"

"That would be splendid," said the Lark, "but that dreadful noise you make each evening would be much louder than it is now, and I think the birds would all go crazy."

"Don't you like it?" asked Bully innocently. "That is our grand frog chorus. Surely it's the most beautiful music in the whole world."

Now the Lark, as we all know, is one of the finest singers in woods and fields. "Oh, pardon me, I didn't know it was singing," he said, as he put his head under his wing to hide a smile. "But if you do invite all those other frogs to come here, I think I shall make my home in another neighborhood."

Bully wondered why he should want to move away from the banks of the Frog Pond. Surely, thought he, there's not a better neighborhood in Rainbow Valley. He could only think his friend must be joking. "Well," said Bully sighing, "you needn't move. I don't suppose we shall ever invite them. How can we get an invitation to them? If only there were some way to get them word of this lovely place, I'm sure they would come."

The Lark looked at Bully for a moment, then stretched first one wing and then the other as far as he could, smoothing each feather until exactly right. He then flirted his tail this way and that, looked over his breast-feathers very carefully, and at last decided he was in perfect trim. He settled down on the old log much pleased with himself as he quietly pulled a big, fat worm out of a hole and ate it.

Bully sat looking at him thoughtfully. He admired this handsome friend of the forest and was much pleased when at last he said, "If you really want a messenger, I think I could take your invitation."

"You?" said Bully, and his eyes bulged larger than ever. "Could you really fly that far?" he asked.

"Oh, of course I could, and much farther," answered the Lark. "You see, my family were all hatched two weeks ago. Mother Lark can easily care for the babies. I am sure she would be perfectly willing for me to go. She knows I need rest and a little vacation. You know, I worked pretty hard helping to build the nest and singing to her while she sat on the eggs. She will not mind at all, I'm sure, if I go."

"Oh," said Bully, "you are the very best bird in the world! When could you start?"

"Today, I suppose," replied the Lark. "I shall fly around by the nest and tell Mother Lark. I am quite sure she will be pleased to have me do this for you."

"It will be fine if you can start today," said Bully. "Be sure to tell them all about the valley and the pond."

"Surely I will," the Lark sang out. "Now perch on this old log and watch out for me when you think it's about time for me to get back. Will you?" asked the Lark.

Of course Bully would. With a hasty good-by the Lark rose in the air. Higher and higher up in the blue sky he flew, singing as he went.

Bully sat looking into the sky long after the Lark was out of sight and at last said to himself, "I think next to a bullfrog a lark is the very finest singer in the world. But I must hurry and tell Grandfather Bull Frog all about our plan."

MRS. TOAD ARRIVES

It was not a great while until every frog in the pond had heard that the Lark had gone to invite all the other frogs to come and make their home in Rainbow Valley. Some thought it was foolish to think of such a thing. Others thought the plan a good one, but said the Lark would not be able to tell all of them. There were others who said that, while they hoped more frogs would come, they didn't suppose a great many would care to travel so far. Grandfather Bull Frog said it was a splendid plan and he hoped they would come, for there was room enough in Rainbow Valley for all. Bully thought about it almost every minute of the day. He was so anxious for them to begin to come. He wondered about them by day and dreamed of them by night. He couldn't think of anything else, and he was often late to dinner and never on time for the evening concert. Grandmother was a bit worried about him, for he never seemed to hear what she was saying to him. He didn't seem to be ill, yet he took no interest in play or in his meals. Had she asked him, Bully could have told her why. He was busy thinking of the fun he would have with all the other young frogs. He wondered and wondered how many kinds of frogs there were, and when they would reach the pond. Would there be any little boy and girl frogs, or would the newcomers all be big, grown-up frogs? All his plans would be spoiled if no young frogs came. How many frogs would there be? What would they look like? Would they like this new home? These were only a few of the many questions Bully was trying to answer to his own satisfaction.

One morning he slept later than usual. I don't know whether he would have waked when he did if old Mr. Sun, peeping slyly through the tree tops, had not sent a bright ray of light straight into his face. Bully rubbed his eyes sleepily, and was about to hide under a big waterlily to take another nap, when the merry spring breezes came rushing madly through the tree tops. They tossed the branches of the trees about, and laughed gaily as the little seeds came whirling down, their wings spread out like tiny sails. The little seeds looked like hundreds and hundreds of butterflies as they came tumbling all about the lily pad where Bully was thinking about taking another nap. One little seed pecked him softly on the nose. He woke with a start. Then all at once he heard a queer noise. It was like the far-off distant hum of a swarm of bees, or like the gurgling sound of a laughing brook rippling over its bubbly bed. Bully sat up straight. He was curious to know at once what the noise was all about. It didn't take him long to find out. Looking out from under the lily pad, he saw most of the frogs sitting under a big tree on the bank of the pond. They were all crowded around a strange visitor and were all asking her questions at the same time. "Where did you come from?" "How did you get here?" "Did the Lark tell you of this place?" These and many other questions they asked without giving the stranger time to answer one of them.

The visitor sat in their midst looking about with a broad smile on her face. She wasn't trying to answer all those questions. In fact, she had no chance to do so. Bully saw that she was short and fat and that her skin was rough and warty. Her hind legs were shorter than a frog's hind legs. He thought her a very ugly-looking creature. Just then some one near him whispered, "My, what beautiful eyes she has!" Then for the first time he noticed the visitor's eyes. Sure enough, they were large, dark, and beautiful, with a soft, kind light in them. They made him forget all about her ugly coat. He wondered who she was.

Then Grandfather Bull Frog began to speak. When he spoke, everyone else always kept silent. "I'm a little ashamed," he said, turning to the frogs on the bank. "You are asking this stranger so many questions at one time that she cannot answer any of them. This," he told them, "is our honored cousin, Mrs. Toad. We are glad she has come to live among us, and I hope you will all try to make her very welcome."

At this they all croaked loudly. "You are welcome, Mrs. Toad, indeed you're very welcome to our home."

"Now," Grandfather Bull Frog said, "I have decided that Mrs. Toad may live under the big rock at the farther side of the pond. If you will all be quiet, I will ask her to tell us her story."

The frogs all promised to keep still, so Mrs. Toad began:

"I may as well begin by telling you about myself. The very first thing I remember is only a few summers ago when I was a little toad living with many others like myself in a big country road. We thought that a very good place to live. We knew no better. It was great fun hopping about making the dust fly. You see, many autos, wagons, and other things on wheels passed up and down that road. Soon I found it a dangerous place for us to live. While I always succeeded in dodging the big wheels as they rolled by, I often saw them crush other little toads to death. As this place was so full of danger, I decided one day to start out and see if I couldn't find a safer home. I traveled about for a few days until I came to a beautiful cabbage field with a fine wire fence around it. Peeping through this fence, I could see long rows of cabbages with many fat green worms crawling about on them. This was enough for me. I at once decided to move in and make the cabbage field my new home.