The Travels Of Two Frogs

: Japanese Fairy World

Forty miles apart, as the cranes fly, stand the great cities of Ozaka and

Kioto. The one is the city of canals and bridges. Its streets are full of

bustling trade, and its waterways are ever alive with gondolas, shooting

hither and thither like the wooden shuttles in a loom. The other is the

sacred city of the Mikado's empire, girdled with green hills and a

nine-fold circle of flowers. In its quiet, clean streets, laid out like a
chessboard, walk the shaven monks and gowned scholars. And very beautiful

is Kioto, with pretty girls, and temple gardens, and castle walls, and

towers, and moats in which the white lotus blooms.

* * * * *

Long, long ago, in the good old days before the hairy-faced and

pale-cheeked men from over the Sea of Great Peace (Pacific Ocean) came to

Japan; before the black coal-smoke and snorting engine scared the white

heron from the rice-fields; before black crows and fighting sparrows,

which fear not man, perched on telegraph wires, or ever a railway was

thought of, there lived two frogs--one in a well in Kioto, the other in a

lotus-pond in Ozaka.

Now it is a common proverb in the Land of the Gods (Japan) that "the frog

in the well knows not the great ocean," and the Kioto frog had so often

heard this scornful sneer from the maids who came to draw out water, with

their long bamboo-handled buckets that he resolved to travel abroad and

see the world, and especially the tai kai (the great ocean).

"I'll see for myself," said Mr. Frog, as he packed his wallet and wiped

his spectacles, "what this great ocean is that they talk about. I'll

wager it isn't half as deep or wide as well, where I can see the stars

even at daylight."

Now the truth was, a recent earthquake had greatly reduced the depth of

the well and the water was getting very shallow. Mr. Frog informed his

family of his intentions. Mrs. Frog wept a great deal; but, drying her

eyes with her paper handkerchief, she declared she would count the hours

on her fingers till he came back, and at every morning and evening meal

would set out his table with food on it, just as if he were home. She

tied up a little lacquered box full of boiled rice and snails for his

journey, wrapped it around with a silk napkin, and, putting his extra

clothes in a bundle, swung it on his back. Tying it over his neck, he

seized his staff and was ready to go.

"Sayonara" ("Good-bye") cried he, as, with a tear in his eye, he walked


"Sayonara. Oshidzukani" ("Good-bye. Walk slowly"), croaked Mrs. Frog

and the whole family of young frogs in a chorus.

Two of the froggies were still babies, that is, they were yet polywogs,

with a half inch of tail still on them; and, of course, were carried

about by being strapped on the back of their older brothers.

Mr. Frog being now on land, out of his well, noticed that the other

animals did not leap, but walked on their legs. And, not wishing to be

eccentric, he likewise began briskly walking upright on his hind legs or

waddling on all fours.

Now it happened that about the same time the Ozaka father frog had become

restless and dissatisfied with life on the edges of his lotus-ditch. He

had made up his mind to "cast the lion's cub into the valley."

"Why! that is tall talk for a frog, I must say," exclaims the reader.

"What did he mean?"

I must tell you that the Ozaka frog was a philosopher. Right at the edge

of his lotus-pond was a monastery, full of Buddhist monks, who every day

studied their sacred rolls and droned over the books of Confucius, to

learn them by heart. Our frog had heard them so often that he could (in

frog language, of course) repeat many of their wise sentences and intone

responses to their evening prayers put up by the great idol Amida.

Indeed, our frog had so often listened to their debates on texts from the

classics that he had himself become a sage and a philosopher. Yet, as

the proverb says, "the sage is not happy."

Why not? In spite of a soft mud-bank, plenty of green scum, stagnant

water, and shady lotus leaves, a fat wife and a numerous family; in

short, everything to make a frog happy, his forehead, or rather gullet,

was wrinkled with care from long pondering of knotty problems, such as

the following:

The monks often come down to the edge of the pond to look at the pink and

white lotus. One summer day, as a little frog, hardly out of his tadpole

state, with a small fragment of tail still left, sat basking on a huge

round leaf, one monk said to the other:

"Of what does that remind you?"

"The babies of frogs will become but frogs," said one shaven pate,


"What think you?"

"The white lotus flower springs out of the black mud," said the other,

solemnly, as both walked away.

The old frog, sitting near by, overheard them and began to philosophize:

"Humph! The babies of frogs will become but frogs, hey? If mud becomes

lotus, why shouldn't a frog become a man? Why not? If my pet son should

travel abroad and see the world--go to Kioto, for instance--why shouldn't

he be as wise as those shining-headed men, I wonder? I shall try it,

anyhow. I'll send my son on a journey to Kioto. I'll 'cast the lion's cub

into the valley' (send the pet son abroad in the world, to see and study)

at once. I'll deny myself for the sake of my offspring."

Flump! splash! sounded the water, as a pair of webby feet disappeared.

The "lion's cub" was soon ready, after much paternal advice, and much

counsel to beware of being gobbled up by long-legged storks, and trod on

by impolite men, and struck at by bad boys. "Kio ni no inaka" ("Even in

the capital there are boors") said Father Frog.

Now it so happened that the old frog from Kioto and the "lion's cub" from

Ozaka started each from his home at the same time. Nothing of importance

occurred to either of them until, as luck would have it, they met on a

hill near Hashimoto, which is half way between the two cities. Both were

footsore, and websore, and very tired, especially about the hips, on

account of the unfroglike manner of walking, instead of hopping, as they

had been used to.

"Ohio gozarimasu" ("Good-morning") said the "lion's cub" to the old

frog, as he fell on all fours and bowed his head to the ground three

times, squinting up over his left eye, to see if the other frog was

paying equal deference in return.

"He, konnichi wa" ("Yes, good-day") replied the Kioto frog.

"O tenki" ("It is rather fine weather to-day") said the "cub."

"He, yoi tenki gozence" ("Yes, it is very fine") replied the old


"I am Gamataro, from Ozaka, the oldest son of Hiki Dono, Sensui no Kami"

(Lord Bullfrog, Prince of the Lotus-Ditch).

"Your Lordship must be weary with your journey. I am Kayeru San of

Idomidzu (Sir Frog of the Well) in Kioto. I started out to see the 'great

ocean' from Ozaka; but, I declare, my hips are so dreadfully tired that I

believe that I'll give up my plan and content myself with a look from

this hill."

The truth must be owned that the old frog was not only on his hind legs,

but also on his last legs, when he stood up to look at Ozaka; while the

"cub" was tired enough to believe anything. The old fellow, wiping his

face, spoke up:

"Suppose we save ourselves the trouble of the journey. This hill is half

way between the two cities, and while I see Ozaka and the sea you can get

a good look of the Kio" (Capital, or Kioto).

"Happy thought!" said the Ozaka frog.

Then both reared themselves upon their hind-legs, and stretching upon

their toes, body to body, and neck to neck, propped each other up, rolled

their goggles and looked steadily, as they supposed, on the places which

they each wished to see. Now everyone knows that a frog has eyes mounted

in that part of his head which is FRONT WHEN HE IS DOWN AND BACK WHEN HE

STANDS UP. They are set like a compass on gimbals.

Long and steadily they gazed, until, at last, their toes being tired,

they fell down on all fours.

"I declare!" said the old yaze (daddy) "Ozaka looks just like Kioto;

and as for 'the great ocean' those stupid maids talked about, I don't see

any at all, unless they mean that strip of river that looks for all the

world like the Yodo. I don't believe there is any 'great ocean'!"

"As for my part," said the 'cub', "I am satisfied that it's all folly to

go further; for Kioto is as like Ozaka as one grain of rice is like

another." Then he said to himself: "Old Totsu San (my father) is a fool,

with all his philosophy."

Thereupon both congratulated themselves upon the happy labor-saving

expedient by which they had spared themselves a long journey, much

leg-weariness, and some danger. They departed, after exchanging many

compliments; and, dropping again into a frog's hop, they leaped back in

half the time--the one to his well and the other to his pond. There each

told the story of both cities looking exactly alike; thus demonstrating

the folly of those foolish folks called men. As for the old gentleman in

the lotus-pond, he was so glad to get the "cub" back again that he never

again tried to reason out the problems of philosophy. And to this day the

frog in the well knows not and believes not in the "great ocean." Still

do the babies of frogs become but frogs. Still is it vain to teach the

reptiles philosophy; for all such labor is "like pouring water in a

frog's face." Still out of the black mud springs the glorious white lotus

in celestial purity, unfolding its stainless petals to the smiling

heavens, the emblem of life and resurrection.