But they took no notice of him at all till they were just going
away. Then one of them caught sight of him. "Hallo!" he cried,
"what a bad rocket!" and he threw him over the wall into the ditch.

"BAD Rocket? BAD Rocket?" he said, as he whirled through the air;
"impossible! GRAND Rocket, that is what the man said. BAD and
GRAND sound very much the same, indeed they often are the same";
and he fell into the mud.

"It is not comfortable here," he remarked, "but no doubt it is some
fashionable watering-place, and they have sent me away to recruit
my health. My nerves are certainly very much shattered, and I
require rest."

Then a little Frog, with bright jewelled eyes, and a green mottled
coat, swam up to him.

"A new arrival, I see!" said the Frog. "Well, after all there is
nothing like mud. Give me rainy weather and a ditch, and I am
quite happy. Do you think it will be a wet afternoon? I am sure I
hope so, but the sky is quite blue and cloudless. What a pity!"

"Ahem! ahem!" said the Rocket, and he began to cough.

"What a delightful voice you have!" cried the Frog. "Really it is
quite like a croak, and croaking is of course the most musical
sound in the world. You will hear our glee-club this evening. We
sit in the old duck pond close by the farmer's house, and as soon
as the moon rises we begin. It is so entrancing that everybody
lies awake to listen to us. In fact, it was only yesterday that I