Once upon a time, on a sunny day, a curious frog looked up from the bottom of the pond and saw a swallow flying over its head and wondered, “What can be up there above me?”
Just then a butterfly came fluttering and swimming and stopped on a lily leaf close to the frog.
“Pray, my friend,” said the frog to the butterfly, “who is this that flies over us?”
“Oh,” said the butterfly, “that is a swallow, but pray do not ask me any questions. I am in a hurry.” And she flew away.
“Pray, my friend,” said the frog to the butterfly, “who is this that flies over us?”
“Oh,” said the butterfly, “that is a swallow, but pray do not ask me any questions. I am in a hurry.” And she flew away.
While the frog was still gazing up, a bee came and sat down on the same lily leaf.
“Pray, my friend,” said the frog to the bee, “who is this that flies over us?”
“That is a swallow,” said the bee, “but it is of no use your asking me any questions, for I am very busy.” And away she buzzed.
The next moment the swallow flew down to the edge of the pond and drank a little water and then sat on a branch that hung over the water.
“How do you do?” said the frog. “What is it up in the sky where you live always; and if one comes down here to ask you, who do you say lives up there?”
“Why, the animals and the people, to be sure,” said the swallow, “and many wonderful things besides.”
“Would you not take my best wishes to them and tell them I can hear them talking whenever they come to the edge of the water to drink?” said the frog.
“I should be sorry to go so far,” said the swallow; and she flew up in the sky; and then the frog began to look and listen again.
“I should like to know what they do up there all day,” said the frog. “And why should not I go up there, too? I will go as far as the long stalk of the water-lily will take me.”
So up he went; but when he got there the place seemed all empty and desolate.
“That is a nice story you have been telling me,” said a young lady, with a sweet voice; “but if ever you come up here by our leave, you will see all the animals are busy working: some ploughing, some sowing, some mowing, some reaping; and the people teasing here and spinning; and the whole world is busy. And that is what they all do who are up here. They do not sit still as you and your friends do.”
Then the frog said no more, but went down to the bottom of the pond again; and the swallow returned to her nest.
But in the evening when the sun was going down she flew down again the edge of the pond and said, “I have not time to tell you, my friend, about the beautiful sight up there; but you must come up and see it, for it is very pleasant to see all God’s creatures working.
“I should like it all the better if they did not keep so long looking down at my house and talking about my going up by a water-lily stalk.” But away flew the swallow, and the frog sat so silly under the water with his mouth wide open, and his eyes half shut.
At last the swallow came again, and he asked her, “What do they all go on looking at my house for?”
“Well,” said the swallow, “some say it is because they think it too little; but I think it is because they wonder how you can sit so long with your mouth open.”
Then the frog dived down to the bottom of the pond, and he sighed and said, “It is not worth while for anyone to carry my best-regards upwards. Even our meetings down here would not do without us.”
But next morning the swallow flew to the pond and said, “Frog, frog, leave your home this evening and come and see the sun set on the mountain.”
“How could you think of such a thing?” said the frog.
“Lay your mouth-but open and the stream will carry you so far. So good-by.” So good-by said the swallow.
“Yes, but good-by to you if you sit at home with your best mind at ease,” said the frog.
So, frog, frog, said the Pry, never trust a swallow; but she came again, while the sun was just down, and said, “Tell me, frog, what is the weather up in your country?”
“What do you care what the weather is here?” said the frog; “is it going to rain again?”
“How heavens, these old fishes do not know how to float about to the mountain-top themselves! No, but they lie and sleep.”
“Well, tell me, frog, if rain, and when it will not rain any more? I must go and get my husband back from the mountain-top.”
“Woo, woo,” said the fishwife, and went down to the old “Heavens.” “Can any place in the whole world be so warm where there are ever so many hut-shoes rehed, but big ones, where laid about the whole has job in itself?”
“You are to stuffing yourself down with the small ones as little to sleep as happens so to the other fishes at home” said the handsome swallow.
“That my husband should come and chop up the wisdom of the Hily-Water and take her home,” said she, and neither worse nor better.
And all happened exactly as the fishes’ wife said. “When a person is half in the grave all manner of things are cut away from him so completely that one can also know the best to come and take the person even when he is taken,” said the fishes’ wife and the old Haily-Water, who was there to noise far and near.
And then the fishes went to sleep.