Now, Mr. Frog was a spry worker.[72] He passed his tape around his customers and jotted3 down figures on flat, black stones as fast as he could make his fingers fly. And if it hadn't been for just one thing Ferdinand Frog would have been quite happy. But beginning with his first customer, he was somewhat troubled; for in the whole company he found not one who had brought his pocket-book with him.
"What's the matter?" he asked Grandaddy Beaver, when the old gentleman's turn came. "Didn't you tell 'em what I said about pocket-books?"
"I certainly did!" Grandaddy replied. "I told them to be sure to leave their pocket-books at home."
Mr. Frog gulped4 once or twice, as if he were swallowing something unpleasant. And he looked most surprised.
"Why, that's exactly wrong!" he cried.[73]
"Is that so?" Grandaddy Beaver quavered. "Then I must have made a mistake. You know I'm a leetle hard of hearing."
"Never mind!" Ferdinand Frog answered, for he always took his troubles lightly. "Bring 'em when you come to have your clothes fitted and it'll be all right."
So he worked on. But by and by he began to grow uneasy again. And now and then he paused and went to the window, where he peered somewhat anxiously at the
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