Deep in Lilypond, a cluster of shiny black tadpoles wiggled their tails in the water. All except Toby.
Instead of swimming, Toby bobbed at the surface, talking.
“Good morning, reeds! Hello, dragonfly! Hey, Mr. Duck, why are your feet orange?”
The other tadpoles gasped. “Tadpoles aren’t supposed to talk before swimming!” whispered Tilly.
But Toby just grinned. “Well, I can—and I have lots to say!”
Chatter in the Pond
Every day, Toby practiced his words instead of his wiggles.
When the minnows zipped by, Toby called, “Too fast! You’ll get traffic fines!”
When the frogs croaked, he crooned back, “Ribbit? No, more like jibbit-jabbit!”
The pond animals giggled. Some found him annoying, but most liked listening. Even old Mr. Turtle admitted, “That tadpole sure knows how to keep things lively.”
The only problem? Toby still couldn’t swim very far.
Trouble by the Water’s Edge
One hot afternoon, a group of tadpoles drifted too close to the edge of the pond, where a hungry heron lurked.
The heron stretched his long neck, ready to snap!
Toby spotted the danger and shouted at the top of his little lungs:
“SWIM BACK! BIG BEAK ALERT!”
Startled, the heron froze. The tadpoles darted away just in time.
“You saved us, Toby!” cried Tilly. “Who needs fast tails when you’ve got a fast tongue?” croaked a frog proudly.
Words that Make Waves
After that day, the pond stopped teasing Toby. They realized his talking wasn’t silly, it was special.
Toby still wiggled and practiced swimming, but now everyone wanted to hear his “word concerts.”
He made the fish laugh with silly rhymes, taught the frogs to say “ribbit-rubbit,” and even convinced the grumpy heron to snack on dragonflies instead of tadpoles (though no one knew how long that would last).
And when Toby finally grew strong enough to swim properly, he wasn’t just another frog-to-be. He was the tadpole who could talk before swimming, and his words had already made a splash.
The End !
