The frog who would a-wooing go
Gave a party, you must know;
And his bride, dressed all in green,
Looked as fine as any queen.
Their reception numbered some
Of the best in Froggiedom.
Four gay froggies played the fiddle,—
Hands all round, and down the middle.
In the room were stern old croakers,
Yellow vests and snow-white chokers.
Froggie belles with rush-leaf fans,
Froggie beaux in green brogans,
Flirted in the bowers there,
Hidden from the ball-room's glare.
Three old froggies tried a reel,—
Twist 'em, turn 'em, toe and heel.