“Then why do you stay with me? You should be hopping in the garden, not in this dull place.” “Oh, I asked to come. I knew you’d have a deal of sorrow once you came here; it’s meant to be a place of sorrow; and I remembered that period of my own life when I was all alone without companions. And I think if someone could have come to me and said, ‘Cheer up, Croaker, it’ll soon all be over,’ I would have felt a trifle stronger for the end.” “Was your name Croaker?” asked Rosalie gently, for the story had much affected her. “Yes; I used always to be longing to be called ‘Bright Coat’ or ‘Slim Body,’ or one of those names when I was young, but my parents had different thoughts from me, and gave me just a family name. The scientists sometimes called me ‘Goggle Eyes,’ and I believe my eyes did grow unnaturally big whilst I was there.” “It’s very kind of you to stay with me when I’m so dull.” “You’re not dull,” said the frog. “No one is, unless they do nothing but nurse their sorrow, and expect other people to carry both them and it.” Rosalie laughed. “Yes, one has a great deal to learn,” she answered, and took down a book from the shelf. And hereafter most of her time was given to learning, for the lesson-books had suddenly developed into coherent reading. They were still hard and dull, and many a time she would have given up but for the ever-ringing voice that revived her lagging spirits, and above all the remembrance of that jewel of pure light, the like that she had seen within the temple. Outside the mist still continued heavy and white, so that it was impossible to find the way about. It hung like a heavy curtain. This continued for a long time, until one day it gradually lightened, and in a week’s time the sky was clear again. “I’m going to dig again,” said Rosalie to the frog, laughing. “I feel I am intended to. The ground is soft, and though my eagerness has gone, I still can work when there is opportunity.” And so in the same way she unbedded another stone, and though it was smaller than the last, and not of the same worth by any means, it had its merits, and one pure flash in the centre to show it was related to the larger one. Having given it into the Governor’s hands, she returned to her own dwelling, and waited some short time. But one day as she was going round the plantation, holding a book and reading, with the frog hopping by her side, she was startled to hear someone calling over the gateway, “Good morning, Rosalie!” and looking, she beheld Billy standing there, his arms folded over it, and his face all laughing, as was usual when he came. “Good morning!” said she, and her eyes brightened at such a change in the day’s programme. “I’ve brought you bad news.” “Ah! then don’t repeat it. I know already what it is,” and Rosalie sighed. “You know, I don’t think you’re ever going to get out of this little paddock,” said he. “I don’t think so myself. Soon I shall be getting past breaking in.” “How do you like digging?”