Rhymes and jingles by Mary Mapes Dodge :: :: University of Virginia Library

182

The Frog who wouldn't A-Wooing go

Ye gentlemen far, and gentlemen near,
And ladies fair, and children dear,
Come, list to the mournful tale—heigho!—
Of the frog who wouldn't a-wooing go:

I.

Once on a time, when nations were few,
And whether the world stood still or flew,
Nobody cared and nobody knew,
A respectable pair,
By name of Gluck,
Lived in a pool
On the Isle of Muck.
Oh! very blest were this pair of frogs,
Their lot was cast in the softest of bogs.
Mrs. Gluck had an exquisite voice,
Their sky was serenest,
Their puddle the greenest
That ever bade heart of a froggy rejoice.

II.

But of all the blessings that came to this pair,
Most precious of all was a son and heir,

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With the widest of mouths and the loveliest stare—
Their brisk little pollywog,
Hearty and hale;
Their own little frisky one,
All head and tail!
Ah! never were parents so happy as these,
Though their child, to be sure, wouldn't sit on their knees.
And this, let me say, was a very bad sign
Though they didn't perceive it
And couldn't conceive it,
For it proved that he didn't to duty incline.

III.

Well, the days flew along, and their child grew apace,
Till at last a fine form came to balance his face;
And his legs grew so fast they seemed running a race.
Completed at last,
With his garment of green,
Just the handsomest froggy
That ever was seen,
He said to his mother: “Now, madam, I'm blown
If—ahem! I should say, I'm not perfectly grown;
So in future I wish my own master to be,
Though I thank you most kindly
For loving me blindly.”
(Such airs in a youngster were dreadful to see!)

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IV.

“O son,” quoth his mother, “you fill me with pain!”
And she sobbed and she sighed with her whole might and main,
And turned to her husband in desperate strain.
“Pooh, pooh!” said old Gluck,
“The youngster is right,
So let him alone, ma'am,
Or you and I'll fight.
And, hark ye, my son, I have noticed of late
Yon puddle attracts you. 'Tis well. Find your mate.
The Gungs, as a family, seem to adore you.
Select your own waters,
Take one of the daughters,
And leap into life like your father before you.”

V.

Alas for young puddle-dum! Proudly he scouted
The sire's good advice. He sulked and he pouted,
And the Gung girls, in turn, every one of them, flouted.
“What, choose me a wife!
Does he think I'm a fool?
No, my motto for life
Is: One frog to a pool.
Shall I yield up my freedom—be tied to a bog?
Not I, by my jumps!” quoth this prig of a frog.
“Miss Gung, sir, for all I'll prevent, gug-a-loo!
May sing till they carry me,
‘No one will marry me,
Nobody, nobody's coming to woo!’”