54
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
So he hopped from the tuft of grass to the tree, Then up where the branches divide; Then with a grin he crawled along And perched by the blue-jay's side.
"I'm big as you, I'm big as you' Cried the frog in greatest glee;"I wish my friends could see me now— In this high society!"—But his joy waned.—As a flock of jays With one accord did rise And, swooping down, they pecked at him With harsh and jeering cries.
'Till he was forced to quick retreat.— As the rushes green he seeks He said, as he leaped in the quiet pool And escaped their cruel beaks:—If this is the way the 'high class' treats The lowly ones, 'tis clear 'Tis best that we should be content To stay in our native sphere!
