And--would you believe it ?--if that frog felt, maybe, a little frisky, or p'raps had some tune running through its head, it'd keep on that way for hours.

It worried Barnes like thunder.
"I dunno whether it was that that killed his wife or not; but anyhow, when she died, Barnes wanted to marry agin, and he went for a while to see Miss Flickers, who lives out yer on the river road, you know.

He courted her pretty steady for a while, and we all thought there was goin' to be a consolidation.

But she was telling my wife that one evening Barnes had just taken hold of her hand and told her he loved her, when all of a sudden something said, 'Bloo-oo-oo-ood-a-nou-ou-oun!' "'What on earth's that ?' asked Miss Flickers, looking sorter scared.
"'I dunno,' said Barnes; 'it sounds like somebody making a noise in the cellar.' Lied, of course, for he knew mighty well what it was.
[Illustration: MR.

BARNES PROPOSES] "''Pears to me 'sif it was under the sofa,' says she.
"'Maybe it wasn't anything, after all,' says Barnes, when just then the frog, he feels like running up the scales again, and he yells out, 'Bloo-oo-ood-a-nou-ou-ou-oun!' "'Upon my word,' says Miss Flickers, 'I believe you've got a frog in your pocket, Mr.Barnes; now, haven't you ?' "Then he gets down on his knees and owns up to the truth, and swears he'll do his best to git rid of the frog, and all the time he is talking the frog is singing exercises and scales and oratorios inside of him, and worse than ever, too, because Barnes drank a good deal of ice-water that day, and it made the frog hoarse--ketched cold, you know.
"But Miss Flickers, she refused him.