Dr. Fieldmouse and the Frog


A little fieldmouse doctor
Shook his furry head
And tweaked his whiskers anxiously
As thoughtfully he said,
“It’s sad that cars are limited
To people—yes, indeed—
And can’t be had by fieldmice
No matter what the need.
For here I am a doctor
With shoes so worn and thin
That I have trouble keeping
My little toes within.
Now if I had a car to drive,
I’d feel quite safe and grand—
But oh, alas, there are no cars
In all of Fieldmouse Land.
But still I must keep going
To make my calls, you see.
Oh, dear! I really cannot tell
What’s to become of me.”
He then picked up his little bag
And pulled his high hat down
And scurried on a little path
That led to Fieldmouse Town.
He hadn’t traveled very far
Before he met a frog
Blinking in the sunshine
On a pussy-willow log.
The froggy spoke politely
And bowed his old green head,
“How do you do, good doctor?
I just heard what you said.
And if you’d like my services,
You’re welcome as can be,
For I don’t need to walk at all;
I merely hop,” said he.
“And so my shoes are never thin;
My back is strong and wide.
Do climb aboard, dear doctor,
And we’ll be off,” he cried.
The doctor answered, “Mr. Frog,
You fill me with delight!
A doctor seated on a frog
Will be a handsome sight.
And since my job’s important,
I’ll gladly ride with you,
And we will share together
The work there is to do.”
The doctor pushed his little toes
Into each worn-out shoe
And tucked his bag beneath his arm,
And with no more ado
He climbed upon his hopping steed.
The frog went jumpety-jump.
And Doctor Fieldmouse traveled far—
Kerplunk, kerplunk, kerplunk.
He traveled far day in, day out,
And even to this day
They both go hopping on their rounds—
At least so fieldfolk say!

[illustration] Illustrated by Phyllis Luch