Danny Meadow Mouse wasn't to
be found. Only a few foolish grasshoppers rewarded his patient search,
and these only served to make him feel hungrier than ever. But old
Whitetail has a great deal of persistence, and in spite of his bad luck,
he kept at his hunting, back and forth, back and forth, until he had
been all over the Green Meadows. At last he made up his mind that he was
wasting time there.
"I'll just have a look over at the Smiling Pool, and if there is nothing
there, I'll take a turn or two along the Big River," thought he and
straightway started for the Smiling Pool. Long before he reached it, his
keen eyes saw Longlegs the Blue Heron standing motionless on the edge of
it, and he knew by the looks of Longlegs that he was watching something
which he hoped to catch.
"If it's a fish," thought Whitetail, "it will do me no good, for I am no
fisherman. But if it's a Frog--well, Frogs are not as good eating as fat
Meadow Mice, but they are very filling."
With that he hurried a little faster, and then he saw what Longlegs was
watching so intently. It was, as you know, Grandfather Frog sitting on
his big green lily-pad. Old Whitetail gave a great sigh of satisfaction.
Grandfather Frog certainly would be very filling, very filling, indeed.
Now Longlegs the Blue Heron was so intently watching Grandfather Frog
that he saw nothing else, and Grandfather Frog was so busy watching
Longlegs that he quite forgot that there might be other dangers.
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