The True Story of a Kicker

There lived two frogs, so I've been told,
In a quiet wayside pool;
And one of those frogs was a blamed bright frog,
But the other frog was a fool.

Now a farmer man with a big milk can
Was wont to pass that way;
And he used to stop and add a drop
Of the aqua pure, they say.

And it chanced one morn in the early dawn,
When the farmer's sight was dim,
He scooped those frogs in the water he dipped,
--Which same was a joke on him.

The fool frog sank in the swashing tank
As the farmer bumped to town.
But the smart frog flew like a tug-boat screw,
And he swore he'd not go down.

So he kicked and splashed and he slammed and thrashed,
And he kept on top through all;
And he churned that milk in first-class shape
In a great big butter ball.

Now when the milkman got to town,
And opened the can, there lay
The fool frog drowned; but, hale and sound,
The kicker he hopped away.

Don't fret your life with needless strife,
Yet let this teaching stick:
You'll find, old man, in the world's big can
It sometimes pays to kick.