Once upon a time, on the border of a brook,
A wicked little froggie, who had never read a book—
Who had never read a story, Or a funny little rhyme,
Had a sad and tragic ending, once upon a time.
The little froggie sad to say, was very fond of flies,
And thought, on this unlucky day, That he had found a prize.
“Up, up I go,” said Froggie, “I can climb as well as hop;
I only hope he’ll stay right there until I reach the top.”
“I wish this wouldn’t bend so much,” said Froggie, going higher;
“I wish that flies would shut their eyes, and come a little nigher.
But he is such a good one, and he looks so very fine,
I think that I must have him, for it’s time for me to dine.”
So up he went; regardless of the danger he was in;
He saw a duck below him but he didn’t care a pin
But suddenly behind his back the reed began to crack,
And all he heard was just one word, and that one word was