It was dark and pouring down when she left, and Cynthia couldn't see the sign for the turn-off. By the time she realized that she had missed her crossing, she was lost. And scared. The rain came down in torrents, drenching her to the bone. The forest was frightening at night; things creaked, there were ominous rustling sounds, and from afar she heard howling.
Or at least it seemed like howling.
It could be screeching.
As she turned corner, a sharply angular evil scaly face reared up, hissing "hello little girl....."
Malicious narrow-pupils amid glowing irises stared down at her.
She screamed and curled up into a ball. Which, on a steep embankment, was decidedly the wrong thing for a hedgehog to do. She felt herself rolling, rolling, rolling.
Splash!
It was cold! Wet!
She paddled furiously, but having only short arms and legs, she had no traction in the frigid water.
Just when she was about to give up hope, a shape came floating over, finally recognizable as a large frog in a greatcoat, rowing across the pond. He stopped and held out an oar toward her, which she grabbed. Gingerly supporting her torso with one hand, he helped her aboard.
"Sorry I couldn't give you a better hand, but you know, spikes"
She understood. She couldn't help it. Spikes.
Frogs had thin pale skin.
No protection.
She was freezing, and at that moment she really longed for her own warm burrow, lined with comfortable dry leaves! So warm! So crinkly! So absorbent! As she shivered, the frog put his coat over her.
He commenced rowing again, remarking "good thing you got away from Paulus Pit, my dear, he may be a parson but he's a real viper" After a few seconds he muttered "why they put a snake in charge of the kirk I'll never understand, too many small creatures last seen talking with that reptile have gone missing".
Then "ESPECIALLY a Presbyterian!".
It appeared that the frog might have a thing against snakes of the cloth.
When they got to his waterside cottage, he helped her ashore and ushered her in. He apologized in advance for not being able to provide fluffy towels - "cotton rips and snags so, if you're a hedgehog, which, errm, you are....." - but instead offered
her a huge stack of large dried-out lily leaves. "They're ever so useful, you see, why I even make my nightshirts out of them."
It appeared that he had an inexhaustible supply.
While she rubbed the soft fur on her front dry, he layered more of them on her back, where they stuck to the spikes. Then he built a roaring fire in the hearth, and heated up some cinnamon milk for her. While she drank it, he rooted around in another room, and came back with a big juicy apple almost as big as she was, which he offered.
It was delicious! She happily gnawed at the fruit, rolled up in a ball of leaves and small dark hands and feet, greedily swallowing the delicious morsels of firm crisp flesh which her sharp teeth pulled off.
When she finished, she curled up in front of the fire, and soon fell asleep.
At times during the night she could see a long lean green leg reach over and push another log into the hearth. There was a lovely perfume of woodsmoke throughout her dreams.
When she woke up it was daylight, and a bright sun was streaming in, illuminating the cozy room. With avid interest she looked around her, then spotted her benefactor at the hearth with a fry pan and eggs, and a coffeepot set off to the side. She marveled at how big he was, and smooth. He truly was a large handsome amphibian. Large round eyes and a charming quirky face. She had never seen a frog this close before, as small forest creatures and the inhabitants of the ponds and swamps did not mix much. How beautiful and elegant his legs were! And how deft his strong able hands!
She hadn't thought about it before, but frogs really were very nice creatures.
And this one was clever, too. She could tell by how dexterously he handled the skillet, while arranging cups, spoons, saucers, forks, and plates.
Plus slicing and buttering the bread.
As they ate breakfast together she happily chatted about her life, and her friends and her school, and what she had been doing yesterday when she got lost. And how scared she had been!
His eyes twinkled as he again warned her away from the serpent masquerading as a parson. Evil scaly thing, hmmph!
Can't trust churchmen!
Especially if you are a small person!
If Paulus Pit came near her again, he'd clout him!
He lent her a warm scarf when she left, and gave her explicit directions.
Soon she would be home. She couldn't wait to tell her sisters about her adventures! And about the kind gallant Mr. Frog. Whom she would certainly see again.
She looked forward to more rain.
It rained off and on today. This morning it came bucketing down. Not being presently forced to trek over hill and dale to Hayward - being, in fact, temporarily at loose ends - I have plenty of time to stay indoors and snack on warm toast. While puttering around the house, occasionally having a spot of tea, and a pipe of tobacco.
It's awfully quiet, though.
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