On a sunny day by a pond, two little creatures were being very merry. In fact, they were being merrier than any other two little creatures could have been. You see, they were fairly dancing with joy.
Fred the fish was circling around, puffing out his gills, and blowing at the little bubbles that floated up to the surface of the pond. He thought that was the best fun he ever had.
And Fern the frog was straddling from lily-pad to lily-pad and then leaping up into the air; after which she tried to catch the little gleams of sunlight that danced upon the water. Just as soon as she would catch one – for she thought her eyes would not hold it – she would spit it out and then jump after another.
Both Fred and Fern had just about enough sense to know that they were having a good time.
“Is this not a merry day?” called out Fern, as she leaped on a mossy stone that jutted out of the pond.
“Indeed it is,” cried Fred. “I am as happy as a fish can be.”
“And I am as happy as a frog can be,” shouted Fern, giving her legs a kick that almost sent her head over heels into the water. “Now tell me about your home, dear friend.”
“And pray tell me about yours,” Fred begged. “I have never been outside of this pond.”
“And I have never been out of the water,” said Fern. “But tell me about the sky.”
“Oh, I have enough of that every day,” cried little Fred. “It is always above me wherever I go. But I forget,” he added. “You have to look up after you leap.”
“Yes,” said Fern; “and yet your sky is my floor. But does it never rain?”
“Oh, yes It rains every now and then. When the water gets down too low for me, then it rains.”
Then Fern gave a poke at the heavy gray clouds, that looked like huge mountains with their heads in the sky. “Then those great, heavy things on the sky are clouds. Do they fall into your pond?”
“I never saw any of them about before the rain,” said Fred; “but I don’t know.”
“Hark!” whispered Fern. “I think I hear something rumbling. What is it?”
“Oh! that is thunder,” said Fred. “Does it not shake your house?”
“Not at all,” Fern answered, laughing. “And so you live under water all the time?”
“Yes,” said Fred. “When I go to sleep I only have to close my eyes, like this. Then all the water huddles over my head so close, and my floor so far away, that you might think it dark. But I do not mind it. I kleep my eyes closed. Then the little fish pass along through the water over my head to sing me lullabies. And the mingled shadows of my roof dance to and fro as they sing, so that I am as happy as can be.”
“Oh, I should like to see that!” cried Fern again.
“And I should like to see you leap over the tops of the lilies and splash about in the water,” Fred answered.
“Will you come to-morrow?” called out Fern.
“I will,” said Fred.
And the next day, Fred hopped to the side of the pond while Fern swam to that side that was nearest him, clasping her long legs around a tall reed so that her small, flat body would not drift away with the water.
“Hilli-ho! hilli-ho!” cried out Fern. “Is this your life under water? Oh! how I should like to swim about among the reeds and stones at the bottom and feel the little fish batting their fins against my body, and the yellow water-lilies brushing against my knees, and the cool earth and the funny little shells that you say lie all about.”
“O, hilli-ho! hilli-ho!” cried Fred; “but my life above water, where the moths and flies drop down on the water, and I leap and leap when they pass in front of me, and the blessed sunlight dances over me till it grows dark, and the butterflies and bees come down to rest on the green banks. Oh! how I wish you could tell me about it all!”
“But I have told you all,” said Fern very sadly. “And I can never tell you anything more.”
“And I can never tell you anything more,” said Fred very mournfully.
“They say we are a pair, and that we are like David and Jonathan,” Fred said. “But I am afraid we are only like mice and elephants.”
“Oh, dear! oh, dear!” sighed Fern. “Never mind. You may be right; but then we needn’t both be wrong.”
“True,” said Fred, cheering up. “Let us live in hope.”
And just as they were parting, a thought struck them both, and they exclaimed together, “Let us ask the owl about it.”
“Do you know the owl?” they asked when they met him.
“No, I do not,” said the frog.
“I do not,” said the fish.
“You are hardly civil to me,” the owl then said.
“I am very sorry,” said Fern.
“Well, never mind. It is a small matter after all,” the owl answered.
Then each of them told their story and begged him to say whether they were like David and Jonathan.
Now Owen, you know, was much too wise to give an answer to such a question, but he advised them, as they had once before agreed, to try to be like themselves.
So stepping off a rock he leaped into the water, and Fred turned round and said joyfully, “Now we are David and Jonathan.”