The Tale of Ferdinand Frog Part 6

XIII

A SIXTY-INCH MEAL

Mr. Frog's scheme of measuring the Beaver family for new suits had just one drawback; the Beaver family liked it too well. So pleased were they over the prospect of having "unfas.h.i.+onable" clothes like Mr. Frog's at last that all of them wanted to be measured not once but several times.

And each and every one, as soon as Mr. Frog had taken his measurements, went out through the back door and slipped around the little building, to wait again at the foot of the line.

Now, Mr. Frog was a spry worker. He pa.s.sed his tape around his customers and jotted down figures on flat, black stones as fast as he could make his fingers fly. And if it hadn't been for just one thing Ferdinand Frog would have been quite happy. But beginning with his first customer, he was somewhat troubled; for in the whole company he found not one who had brought his pocket-book with him.

"What's the matter?" he asked Grandaddy Beaver, when the old gentleman's turn came. "Didn't you tell 'em what I said about pocket-books?"

"I certainly did!" Grandaddy replied. "I told them to be sure to leave their pocket-books at home."

Mr. Frog gulped once or twice, as if he were swallowing something unpleasant. And he looked most surprised.

"Why, that's exactly wrong!" he cried.

"Is that so?" Grandaddy Beaver quavered. "Then I must have made a mistake. You know I'm a _leetle_ hard of hearing."

"Never mind!" Ferdinand Frog answered, for he always took his troubles lightly. "Bring 'em when you come to have your clothes fitted and it'll be all right."

So he worked on. But by and by he began to grow uneasy again. And now and then he paused and went to the window, where he peered somewhat anxiously at the Beavers who waited before his door in a long line.

"It's queer!" Mr. Frog exclaimed aloud at last. "Here I've been measuring 'em for an hour and a half; and there's just as many of 'em left. . . . I'll have to stop soon," he continued, "for I'm going to a singing-party to-night. And I don't want to be late."

His customers, however, wouldn't hear of his leaving. The moment Mr.

Frog's remarks pa.s.sed down the line, the Beaver family began to jostle and push one another. They crowded inside the tailor's shop.

And to get rid of them, Mr. Frog worked faster than ever. So great was his haste that he measured everybody wrong; whereas before he had measured them correctly, while merely scratching wrong figures upon the stones.

And finally he stopped suddenly. As Grandaddy Beaver stepped forward to be measured for the fourth time it dawned upon Mr. Frog that he had measured him several times already.

But Ferdinand Frog said nothing at all.

Holding one end of his tape in his mouth, he pa.s.sed the other end around Grandaddy's plump body.

All at once a cry of dismay came from the customers who were looking on while they waited.

"He's swallowing the tape!" they cried, pointing to Mr. Frog.

It was true. Beneath their horrified gaze the tape-measure disappeared little by little inside Mr. Frog's mouth. And before any of them could come to his senses and seize the end of the yellow strip, it had vanished from view completely.

Of course they saw that the tailor could work no longer that evening. So they filed sadly out of the shop.

"How did it happen?" they asked Mr. Frog, who was already locking his door.

"The tape stuck to my tongue," he explained. "Everything does, you know. But it doesn't matter, because I was hungry. And now I feel better."

So Mr. Frog reached the singing-party in time, after all.

XIV

AN UNPLEASANT MIX-UP

For a long time after he took the measurements of the Beaver family Mr.

Frog kept carefully out of sight. Though several of the Beavers visited his shop every day, they always found the door locked and the shades drawn. But from various odd sounds--such as giggles and t.i.tters and snickers--which they heard by listening at the keyhole, they knew that the tailor was inside.

To all their knocks and calls, however, Mr. Frog made no other response.

He was working busily, and he did not want to be interrupted.

At last, to the delight of everybody, a notice appeared one evening upon Mr. Frog's door, which said:

TO-MORROW WILL BE FITTING-DAY

Well, never was such excitement known in the Beaver family--unless it was when the great freshet came, and almost washed away the dam. And it was lucky there was no freshet upon Mr. Frog's fitting-day, for there would have been no one except the women and children to do any work.

Some of the young dandies even spent the night right in front of Mr.

Frog's tailor's shop, in order to be among the first to try on their new clothes, which were to be five years ahead of the times.

When Mr. Frog opened his door bright and early the following morning he had to beg his eager customers to keep order.

"There's a suit here for everybody," he announced. "But if you crowd into my shop I may get the garments mixed. And that would be terrible."

So the Beaver gentlemen were as quiet and orderly as they could be. But as for Mr. Frog himself, he jumped around as if he were standing in a hot frying-pan. He hustled his customers into their suits in no time, a.s.suring each one that his garments fitted him perfectly, and asking him please to step out through the back door and wait.

By the time the last Beaver had on his new clothes, and Mr. Frog followed him into the back-yard, the tailor found that there was a frightful uproar outside. There wasn't one of the Beavers who didn't claim that there was something wrong about his new clothes. But whether sleeves, trousers or coat-tails were too short or too long, or whether they were too loose or too tight, Mr. Frog declared that they were exactly as they should be, because they were bound to be in style in five years' time, and n.o.body--so he said--could prove otherwise.

Of course, the Beaver family was far from satisfied. Though they had what they had been wis.h.i.+ng for, they couldn't help thinking that they looked very queer--as, indeed, they did.

But Ferdinand Frog told the crowd that it was only because they weren't used to being dressed in that fas.h.i.+on. He said he certainly was pleased with their appearance and that he had never seen any company that looked the least bit like them.

There was one Beaver, however, who shouted angrily that he knew his suit wasn't fas.h.i.+onable and that he wouldn't accept it.

XV

EVERYONE IS HAPPY

Mr. Frog led the angry Beaver around to the front of his shop, while the others followed, and pointed to his sign.