Somebody had knocked. And with a wide smile upon his face Mr. Ferdinand Frog, the tailor, went to his door and peeped out.  
One look was enough. He shut the door again with great haste and barred it. And he held one hand over his heart, as if he had just received a terrible fright.
 
"Let me in!" somebody called. The tailor knew that it was Timothy Turtle's voice, for he had seen that crusty old person standing upon his doorstep.
 
"Go away!" Mr. Frog replied. "I'm not here."p. 92
 
He was an odd chap—this Ferdinand Frog. One never could tell what he was going to do—or say.
 
"Yes, you are!" Timothy Turtle insisted. "I saw you only a moment ago."
 
The tailor then peered out of the window at his caller.
 
"There you are now!" Timothy shouted, as he caught sight of Mr. Frog. "I say, let me in!"
 
"I can't," Mr. Frog answered. "I'm sick a-bed."
 
"Nonsense!" Timothy cried.
 
"Well, I expect I'll be ill if you don't go away," the tailor answered. "I'm having a nervous chill this very moment."
 
He was afraid of Timothy Turtle. And it was no wonder. For Timothy had tried, more than once to make a meal of the nimble Mr. Frog.
 
"I haven't come here to hurt you,"p. 93 Timothy Turtle explained, trying to smile at the face in the window. "I want you to make me a new coat—a big one that will cover my back all over."
 
To his great disappointment Mr. Frog shook his head with great force.
 
"I'm not interested," he announced.
 
"Do you mean"—Timothy Turtle faltered—"do you mean that you won't make a coat for me?"
 
"Exactly!"
 
"Why?" Timothy pressed him.
 
"Too busy!" was Mr. Frog's answer.
 
"Who is?"
 
"You are!" said Mr. Frog. "Ever since I've known you, you've been trying to catch me a............