Did you ever make a willow¹ whistle—that is, out of a piece of wood off a willow tree?

 

No? Well, it’s lots of fun, and when I was a boy I used to make lots of them. Big ones and little ones, and the kind that would almost make as much noise as some factory whistles. If you can’t make one yourself, ask your big brother, or your papa, or some man, to make you one.

 

Maybe your big sister can, for some girls, like Lulu Wibblewobble, the duck, can use a knife almost as good as a boy.

 

Well, if I’m going to tell you about Bawly No-Tail, the frog, and his whistles I guess I’d better start, hadn’t I? and not talk so much about big brothers and sisters.

 

One afternoon Bawly was hopping³ along in the woods. It was a nice, warm day, and the wind was blowing in the treetops, and the flowers were blooming down in the moss⁴, and Bawly was very happy.

 

He came to a willow tree, and he said to himself:

 

“I guess I’ll make a whistle.” So he cut off a little branch, about eight inches long, and with his knife he cut one end slanting⁵, just like the part of a whistle that goes in your mouth. Then he made a hole for the wind to come out of.

 

Then he pounded the bark on the stick gently with his knife handle, and pretty soon the bark slipped off, just as mamma takes off her gloves after she’s been down to the five-and-ten-cent store. Then Bully⁶ cut away some of the white wood, slipped on the bark again, and he had a whistle.

 

“My! That’s fine!” he cried, as he blew a loud blast on it. “I think I’ll make another.”

 

So he made a second one, and then he went on through the woods, blowing first one whistle and then the other, like the steam piano in the circus parade.

 

“Hello!” suddenly cried a voice in the woods, “who is making all that noise?”

 

“I am,” answered Bawly. “Who are you?”

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