he couldn't make sure that Buster had any tail at all. There was
something that might, just might, be meant for a tail, and Peter
wasn't even sure of that. If it was, it was so ridiculously small that
Peter felt that he had no reason to be ashamed of his own tail.

He was still thinking about this when he started for home. Half way
there, he paused, saw that the way to the Smiling Pool was clear, and
suddenly made up his mind to ask Grandfather Frog about Buster Bear's
tail. Off he started, lipperty-lipperty-lip.

"Oh, Grandfather Frog," he panted, as soon as he reached the edge of
the Smiling Pool, "has Buster Bear got a tail?"

Grandfather Frog regarded Peter in silence for a minute or two.

Then very slowly he asked: "What are your eyes for, Peter Rabbit?
Couldn't you see whether or not he has a tail?"

"No, Grandfather Frog. I really couldn't tell whether he has a tail or
not," replied Peter quite truthfully. "At first I thought he hadn't,
and then I thought he might have. If he has, it doesn't seem to me
that it is enough to call a really truly tail."

"Well, it is a really truly tail, even if you don't think so,"
retorted Grandfather Frog, "and he has it for a reminder."

"A reminder!" exclaimed Peter, looking very much puzzled. "A reminder
of what?"

Grandfather Frog cleared his throat two or three times. "Sit down,