He ketched
a frog one day, and took him home, and said he cal'klated to edercate
him; and so he never done nothing for three months but set in his back
yard and learn that frog to jump. And you bet you he _did_ learn him,
too? He'd give him a little punch behind, and the next minute you'd see
that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut--see him turn one
summerset, or maybe a couple, if he got a good start, and came down
flat-footed and all right, like a cat. He got him up so in the matter of
catching flies, and kept him in practice so constant, that he'd nail a
fly every time as far as he could see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted
was education, and he could do most anything--and I believe him. Why,
I've seen him set Dan'l Webster down here on this floor--Dan'l Webster
was the name of the frog--and sing out, "Flies, Dan'l, flies!" and
quicker'n you could wink, he'd spring straight up, and snake a fly off'n
the counter there, and flop down on the floor again as solid as a gob of
mud, and fall to scratching the side of his head with his hind foot as
indifferent as if he hadn't no idea he'd been doin' any mor'n any frog
might do. You never see a frog so modest and straightfor'ard as he was,
for all he was so gifted. An' when it come to fair and square jumping on
a dead level, he could get over more ground at one straddle than any
animal of his breed you ever see.
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