It is a secret for us." "And for the frogs," added Jeanne.
"And for the frogs," said Hugh.
"But," said Jeanne, "I thought the swan was going to die.

_That_ was not dying." "Yes," said the queer croaking voice of the frog, suddenly reappearing on the edge of the boat; "yes, my children," he repeated, with a strange solemnity, "for such as the swan that _is_ dying.

And now once more--for you will never see me again, nor revisit this country--once again, my children, I bid you farewell." He waved his hands in adieu, and hopped away.
"Cheri," said Jeanne, after a short silence, "I feel rather sad, and a very little sleepy.

Do you think I might lie down a little--it is not the least cold--and take a tiny sleep?
You might go to sleep too, if you like.

I should think there will be time before we row back to the shore, only I do not know how we shall get the boat through the narrow part if the frogs have all gone.