»The pond about here is empty when it comes to gold,« answered the good-natured care-free Jumping Jack. »If you must have golden treasure, go back to the open swamp, for here the trees overhang the pool and we don’t know what gold is. But neither do we know the dangers of Duck and Crane and Snake, for they seldom seek us here.«
»Prrrrr. Prrrrr.« Mother Frog began to weep softly.
»Oh, my lost treasure, my treasure, my treasure,« she moaned. »There is no treasure left for me now.«
»Why, as to that, Lady,« answered Jumping Jack, »I’ve just one piece of gold here, and I’ll give that one piece to you if Father Frog will say it’s a better one than his whole pool of stars.«
»Impossible!« cried Father, but the Mother nodded to Jumping Jack, and he disappeared behind the lily stems.
»Prrr. Prrrr.« When he reappeared, there beside him was Tiny, their dainty Tiny, their own daughter Tiny. On her chin was that spot of gold more brilliant than marsh marigolds. Mother seized her and clung to her, laughing and crying, and Father Frog wiped his eyes.
