foolish green flies.

"Oh, Grandfather Frog, please do tell us why it is that Striped
Chipmunk has such beautiful stripes on his coat," begged one of the
Merry Little Breezes.

"Chug-a-rum! They are stripes of honor," replied Grandfather Frog, in
his deep, gruff voice.

"Honor! Oh, how lovely! Do tell us about it! Please do!" begged the
Merry Little Breezes.

"Chug-a-rum!" began Grandfather Frog, his big, goggly eyes twinkling.
"Once upon a time, when the world was young, old Mr. Chipmunk, the
grandfather a thousand times removed of Striped Chipmunk, lived very
much as Striped Chipmunk does now. He was always very busy, very
busy, indeed, and it was always about his own affairs. 'By attending
strictly to my own business, I have no time to meddle with the affairs
of my neighbors, and so I keep out of trouble,' said old Mr.
Chipmunk,"

"Just what Striped Chipmunk says now," broke in one of the Merry
Little Breezes.

"That shows that he is just as wise as was his grandfather a thousand
times removed, about whom I am telling you," replied Grandfather Frog.
"Old Mr. Chipmunk wore just a little, plain brown coat. It didn't
worry him a bit, not a bit, that his coat was just plain brown. It
kept him just as warm as if it were a beautiful red, like that of Mr.
Fox, or handsome black and white, like that of Mr. Skunk. He was