Ferdinand Frog had begun to feel uneasy again. He was afraid that the singers had forgotten their promise to him. But at last they suddenly started a rousing song which made him take heart again.  
They roared out the chorus in a joyful¹ way which left no doubt in his mind that his chance was at hand:
 
"Now that the concert is ended
We'll sit at the banquet and feast.
Now that the singing's suspended
We'll dine till it's gray in the east."
 
Mr. Frog only hoped that the company did not expect him to sing to them all the time while they were banqueting.
 
"They needn't think—" he murmured under his breath—"they needn't think I don't like good things to eat as well as they do." But he let no one see that he was worried. That was Ferdinand Frog's way: almost always he managed to smile, no matter how things went.
 
When the last echoes of the song had died away a great hubbub² arose. Everybody crowded around Mr. Frog. And there were cries of "Now! Now!"
 
He thought, of course, that they wanted to hear him sing. So he started once more to sing his favorite song. But they stopped him quickly.
 
"We've finished the songs for to-night," they told him. "We're ready for the supper now. . . . Where is it?"
 
"Supper?" Mr. Frog faltered³, as his jaw⁴ dropped. "What supper?"
 
"The supper you're going to give us!" the whole company shouted. "You know—don't you?—that we have just made a rule for new members: they're to furnish a banquet."
 
Ferdinand Frog's eyes seemed to bulge⁵ further out of his head than ever.
 
"I—I never heard of this before!" he stammered⁶.
 
"Didn't Tired Tim tell you about our new rule?" somebo............