    The Toad came to the ditch; and forget-me-nots were growing there, and meadowsweet; and a very little way off was a hedge of whitethorn, and elder bushes grew there too. Gay colors were to be seen here, and a butterfly too, was flitting by. The Toad thought it was a flower, which had broken loose, it might look about better in the world, which was quite a natural thing to do.
    "If one could only make such a journey as that!" said the Toad. "Croak! How capital that would be!"
    Eight days and eight nights she stayed by the well, and experienced no want of provisions. On the ninth day she thought, "Forward! Onward!" But what could she find more charming and beautiful? Perhaps a little toad or a few green frogs. During the last night there had been a sound borne on the breeze, as if there were cousins in the neighborhood.
