  Long years ago, as I’ve been told, a Frog and a speckled Trout Had in the cool of an old mill stream somewhat of a “falling out”. “’Tis foolishness,” said Mr. Trout, and the spots on his sides grew red, “To do as you do—I wonder who’s been putting such stuff in your head! It’s best you’ll find, to spend your time, in studying swimming lore, Learning to dive and float instead of hopping along on shore. To excel in a single thing is better’n a little of this and that,— Not to see it thus you really must be ’most as blind as a bat! I’m going to practice to swim my best, and when one is wanted, see! To serve some benevolent gentleman—who will he choose but me!” Respectfully the Frog heard all that his friend, Mr. Trout, did say: “I thank you much for your counsel, sir; I’ll meditate it, good day.” But he didn’t take Mr. Trout’s advice, and this is the reason why,— “To know but one craft—one’s chance to succeed in life is lessened thereby; So I think I’ll go on in the same old way my fathers did before,— Their skill in swimming was none the less for the fact that they hopped on shore!” At last it was time for Frog and Trout their lifework to begin, So they eagerly scanned the papers o’er to see what “ads” were in. One day they found among the “wants” a place with tip-top pay, And they packed their grips and started out at dawn the following day. “I s’pose you can swim?” asked Mr. Seal, whose valet was soon to go. “Indeed we can!” and off came coats their prowess and skill to show. Out to the buoy and back again—the Trout came in ahead. “It’s all because he shunned advice,” Mr. Trout with a chuckle said. “Ah, very well done! I think you’ll do—your work, to patrol the shore, And when you see any men with clubs don’t tarry a moment more, But hurry to warn me as I take in the surf my morning bath”,— Mr. Frog stood by with moistened eye—his tears were not of wrath, As his friend, Mr. Trout, on the shore about, in pain began to flop,— “Oh, you’re no good,” called Mr. Seal. “The one who serves me must hop!” |
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