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 Lady Frog sat in the deep mud and mourned her lost treasure. Her riches were not the gold of the starry pond, but the lost gold of her little daughter Tiny. She sat thinking of her splendid family, raised so carefully in the swamp, and now separated and scattered over the marshes. She remembered when they were only baby tadpoles, sunning themselves in the shallows. She smiled as she thought of their funny tadpole legs, and wept a little as she dreamed of the days when they were first real frogs and played about her. Twenty pretty frogs, and now but two remained with her in the swamp.

Crane had caught one when the youngsters had started their journey. Snake had fattened a bit on two, and Duck had helped herself to a share. That was the way of life. But Tiny! What had become of the little daughter with the golden spot on her chin, and the sweet voice? Mother grieved for her treasure as Father gloated over his.

Early one morning Mother Frog went out to call Father Frog from the stump, where he had sat all night counting gold. She looked at the water. Surely he must be mad!

»No gold, no gold, no gold!« she whispered. »The water’s going down and the swamp is drying up. Can’t you see that for yourself?«

Father Frog suddenly began to think. He swam through the waters. Sure enough, they were disappearing, and the golden stars were no longer safe. He would have to find a newer, clearer pool.

»Pack up, pack up, pack up,« he croaked. »We move to-night, to-night, to-night.«

Just then a merry voice sang across the marshes. It was Jumping Jack, the