Read Ebook: Faidoni Platonin keskustelma Sokrateen viimeisistä hetkistä ja sielun kuolemattomuudesta by Plato BCE BCE Calamnius J W Johan Wiktor Translator

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Ebook has 87 lines and 6090 words, and 2 pages

"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.

"I lived here in this place for some time. The gardener who owned the field raised vegetables to sell. He seemed glad to have me stay. He was very careful never to strike me with his hoe and was kind to me in every way. I tried to repay his kindness by destroying as many bugs and worms as I could eat. His children were good to me, too, and often brought me choice bits from the table, which I enjoyed very much. The little boys and girls would laugh merrily as they dropped a bit of food to see me catch it quickly on my tongue and eat it. This garden home suited me so well I thought I should never leave it.

"One day when the family were away from home I was dozing under a big leaf when a boy jumped over the wire fence. Quick as a wink he had me shut up in a small box and was running off with me. I was frightened, of course, but there was nothing to do but go with him peaceably.

"One summer evening some time after I had come to live in the flower garden, the two young ladies were sitting on the front porch pretending to read. I think really they were looking for some young men who came often to call on them, for I saw that one of them was holding her paper upside down, and the other kept lifting her eyes from the book on her lap and looking down the street as if she were expecting some one. It had been a dreadfully hot day. The leaves of the plants curled up like little corkscrews, and the grass was quite brown in places. The air was dry and no breeze was blowing. Even the garden seemed hot and stuffy. The woman came out of the house, fastened the hose to the water faucet, and began to sprinkle the flowers. She was very fond of the flowers and always cared for them herself. I was among the plants amusing myself by catching fireflies. My, how good and cool that water seemed! Very soon the plants began to lift up their heads and the leaves to uncurl. The flowers fairly seemed to smile. While the cool water trickled down my back I sat looking at them, snapping up one firefly after another. As I sat watching the water as it showered over the thirsty flowers and the dry grass, the mischievous boy who lived across the way came slipping round the house. He was smiling slyly and looking first toward where I sat and then at the young ladies. I could see plainly that he was planning some mischief. Before I knew what he was up to, he had picked me up and started toward the porch. You should have seen the young ladies then. They didn't stop for anything, but dropped book and paper, took one hasty look at me, and sprang for the door, crying out, 'O you dreadful, dreadful boy!'

"They ran into the house as fast as they could go, slamming the door and locking it after them. Now why should anyone be afraid of me? I'm sure I don't know. I can see why people should be afraid of a snake or a savage dog, but to be afraid of a harmless toad is more than I can understand. I know I'm not handsome, as I am rather fat and have warts on my skin. I have seen some people, too, who were fat and not so very handsome and yet I didn't run from them. And there are some folks silly enough to believe that if you touch a toad, you, too, will have warts. I don't believe any such thing. That boy who liked mischief didn't seem to be afraid either of me or of my warts.

"Well, when the girls ran away from the boy, he started for the woman. She was so busy with the hose that for a moment she did not realize what he was up to. Then, seeing him spring toward her with me in his hand, she, too, started to run and cried out, 'Don't you put that toad on me! Don't you dare do such a thing!'

"She ran toward the house, but was so excited her foot caught in the hose, and down she fell. The end of the hose with the nozzle flopped around and sprayed all over her as she lay on the ground. The boy, thinking she might be hurt, dropped me and ran to help her up. But the woman, thinking he still had me in his hand, cried, 'Go away, go away, you dreadful boy! If you put that toad on me, I'll paddle you well!' Finally he made her understand he had dropped me and was trying to help her to her feet. My, but she was a sight when she got up! Her hair, like wet strings, hung straight down her back. The water ran in little streams down her face and dropped from her nose and chin. Her clothes were as wet as though she had fallen in the river. Of course she had to go in at once and change them.

"After it was all over the young ladies came out on the porch and laughed and laughed until th

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