The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Pirate Frog and Other Tales, by W. A. (William Albert) Frisbie, Illustrated by Fred R. Bartholomew

Transcriber’s Note: The Library of Congress page images of this book (https://www.loc.gov/item/01023025/) appear to be out of order. The individual poems have been put back together for this e-book but as the pages aren’t numbered, without access to a physical copy it is not possible to tell whether the sequence of poems is in the right order.

THE PIRATE FROG
AND OTHER TALES

Verse By
W · A · FRISBIE

Pictures By
BART

Authors of The Bandit Mouse

Lettering and Color Plates
BY FRED · R · BARTHOLOMEW

Chicago and New York
RAND, McNALLY & COMPANY
Publishers

A Fore Word:

This book is no arithmetic

To vex the mind of youth;

Its pages may, perhaps, appear

To be devoid of truth.

But by these tales the young who learn

To recognize a lie,

To that extent will know the truth,

And profit much thereby.

Copyright, 1901, by Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago.

This Book is dedicated to
MAE HARRIS ANSON
EDITOR OF THE
MINNEAPOLIS JOURNAL JUNIOR
whose object is
to amuse and educate children

THE PIRATE FROG.

Some boys whose names I do not know,

Went out to sail their boat one day:

Fast to her stern they tied a line

So she could not sail far away

But little did those boys suspect

That, just beyond a floating log,

With all his trusty followers,

There lay in wait the Pirate Frog.

On came the ship; out sprang the frogs—

A desperate, determined crew.

They climbed aboard with reckless speed

And each one found his work to do.

One cut the line, one raised the flag,

The captain seized the helm to steer;

And thus, on peaceful Plunkett’s Pond,

Began the Pirate Frog’s career.

Upon the shore of Plunkett’s Pond

Three turtles basked beneath the sun;

’Twas afternoon, the spot was warm,

And they were dozing every one.

Their eyes were closed, they did not see

Around the point a sail appear,

Nor did they know, until too late,

The dreaded Pirate Frog was near.

The pirate crew made haste to land:

They ran to where the turtles lay,

Turned all three quickly on their backs,

Then, hoisting sail, sped fast away.

For hours the turtles strained and scratched

To turn themselves, but all in vain,

Till Mrs. Muskrat came that way

And set them right side up again.

As out of Turtle Bay he sailed,

The Pirate Frog the waters scanned,

And soon he steered his stolen ship

To catch some ducklings far from land.

Around the downy neck of one

A lasso made of cord he cast,

And, though the victim struggled hard,

The cord was strong; the knot held fast.

The other ducklings hurried home,

When this unequal fight began:

All breathlessly they told the news

To Uncle Peter Pelican.

He hurried out across the pond,

And first he cut the duckling’s cord;

Which gave the frightened pirates time

To dive to safety overboard.

Far up the shores of Plunkett’s Pond,

Within a deep and marshy bay,

Amid the rustling rushes green,

The muskrats’ cozy village lay.

Now, when the older rats were gone,

The little ratlings had no fear;

’Twould have been different had they known

The dreaded Pirate Frog was near.

But soon the pirates’ flag was seen—

The town was taken by surprise.

One baby rat was caught and bound

And dragged on ship despite his cries.

But soon his bonds were gnawed apart

And he for safety scaled the mast,

His weight aloft o’erset the ship

And he laughed best for he laughed last.

’Twas in July; the sun was hot,

The pond was smooth, the air was still.

The Pirate’s vessel lay becalmed

Without a breeze the sail to fill;

But soon a plan had been devised

To move the ship without a sail:

A diving frog took down a line

And tied it ’round a bull-head’s tail.

The big fish felt a gentle tug,

Then saw the line and jumped with fright.

He tried in vain to shake it off,

And swam away with all his might.

This way and that, at race-horse speed,

He crossed the pond from side to side,

But where he went the ship went, too,

And all the frogs enjoyed the ride.

For weeks the wicked Pirate Frog

Had filled the water folk with fright;

They hid themselves throughout the day,

While few dared venture out at night.

Had he not grown too rash and bold

They might be living that way still;

But his career closed when he tried

To stop the busy water mill.

He planned to drive his stolen ship

Against the wheel and tie it fast.

Nor did he think, on starting out,

That this exploit would be his last.

Too late he saw his grave mistake,

He tried in vain to reach the shore—

The pirates’ ship was ground to bits,

And Plunkett’s Pond knew them no more.

Old Daddy Longlegs sat him down

And wept in deepest woe.

“Alas!” he cried, “The summer’s gone

“And soon will come the snow.

“My children beg for warmer clothes,

“But yet I must refuse

“For each one has so many feet

“I can’t buy overshoes.”

THE HUNGRY PUPIL

To the Jungle kindergarten,

Mrs. Tiger brought her child:

He was small and roly-poly,

He was also meek and mild.

Telling him to mind the teacher,

Not to pull his playmates hair

And learn his lessons quickly.

Then his mother left him there.

When she called for him at noon time,

He was sitting all alone

With a smile of satisfaction,

Gnawing at an ostrich bone.

All the ground was strewn with feathers

Well picked bones and bits of fur;

But the pupils all were missing.

Don’t you wonder where they were?

Her little son came wriggling up

To grave old mother Eel;

“Oh mother dear”, he said with tears

“Such awful pains I feel.

“The doctor says he greatly fears

“For small-pox I am slated;

“But yet I have no arms or legs,

“And can’t be vaccinated.”

The Snapping Turtle’s daughter

In dress displayed good taste;

But, when she tried a belt on,

She found she had no waist.

The jolly Rough Riders of wash day

Sat jauntily out on the line

Not a man was afraid

For ’twas but dress parade

And their showing was certainly fine.

But when from their homes in the tree-tops

The enemy sailed through the air

And with coarse, muddy feet

Soiled each garment and sheet

The Riders could do naught but stare.

A crocodile made up his mind

That he’d be clean and neat;

On land he walked upon his toes,

So’s not to soil his feet;

But, when he came to brush his teeth,

He found to his dismay,

They were so numerous that he

Was busy all the day.

Jane Jenkens liked to look her best—

Though not too proud a girl—

She “did” her hair with strips of tin

To make it kink and curl.

She twisted it too tight by far

And found, to her surprise,

That, though she tried her very best,

She couldn’t close her eyes.

A FIRE IN FROGTOWN

One sultry night in Frogtown

The muskrats’ house caught fire;

The muskrats, with their babies,

Rushed out in scant attire.

Then all the Frogtown firemen,

In startled haste arose,

And ran to put the fire out

With dandelion hose.

THE PORCUPINE’S DILEMMA

A porcupine once played at golf

And wore a sweater red.

“I notice all the swells dress so.

“And so will I”, he said.

But when he found his stylish clothes

Were far too warm for golf,

His sharp quills held that sweater fast

He couldn’t get it off.

A monkey, sitting on a tree

Above a shady pool,

Looked down and saw a crocodile

Within the water cool.

The crocodile looked up and said,

“Come down my friend and swim.”

Intending, when the monkey came,

To make a meal of him.

The monkey knew this was his plan

But leaped as if to dive.

The crocodile spread wide his jaws

To catch his meal alive;

But he was disappointed much

To see his sharp game fail

For, as he leaped, the monkey caught

And hung there by his tail.

One beast there is which should be shunned

By little girls and boys;

That is the cross Whine-os-ce-ros,

Which makes an awful noise.

For if they see this animal

And do not run away,

They imitate its shrill, harsh voice

And whine the livelong day.

Seein’ Large

A frog who wore new spectacles

Observed a common fly;

“What monster can this be?” he said,

“That comes before my eye?”

But when the fly was quickly caught,

And on the frog’s inside,

He felt so empty that he knew

His glasses magnified.

A turtle had a big bass-drum

On which he used to play;

His comrades didn’t like the noise,

And so they ran away.

He played till he was all tired out,

Then all his friends returned

And smashed that drum to kindling wood,

Which they piled up and burned.

When Robert Pip put out to sea,

His ship was strong and new;

He was the captain proud and bold,

He also was the crew.

And he could reef and splice and clew

And yaw and luff and steer.