No-Tail, the frog boy, was sitting out in the yard in front of his house, with his knife and a lot of sticks. He was the sticks, and making almost as many chips and shavings as a carpenter, and as he away he whistled a funny little , about a yellow monkey-doodle with a pink nose colored blue, who wore a on one foot, because he had no shoe.  
Pretty soon, along came Dickie Chip-Chip, the sparrow boy, and he perched on the fence in front of Bully, put his head on one side—not on one side of the fence, you know, but on one side of his own little feathered neck—and Dickie looked out of his bright little eyes at Bully, and inquired:
 
“What are you making?”
 
“I am making a water-wheel,” answered the frog boy.
 
“What! making a wheel out of water?” asked the birdie in great surprise. “I never heard of such a thing.”
 
“Oh, no indeed!” exclaimed Bully with a laugh. “I’m making a wheel out of wood, so that it will go ‘round and ‘round in the water, and make a nice splashing noise. You see it’s something like the paddle-wheel of a steamboat, or a mill wheel, that I’m making.”
 
“And where are you going to get the water to make it go ‘round?” asked Dickie.
 
“Down by the pond,” answered Bully. “I know a little place where the water falls down over the rocks, and I’m going to fasten a wooden wheel there, and it will whizz around very fast!”
 
“Does the water hurt itself when it falls down over the rocks?” asked Dickie Chip-Chip. “Once I fell down over a little stone, and I hurt myself quite badly.”
 
“Oh, no, water can’t hurt itself,” Bully, as he made a lot more shavings. “There, the wheel is almost done. Don’t you want to see it go ‘round, Dickie?”
 
The little sparrow boy said that he did, so he and the frog started off together for the pond. Dickie along on the ground, and Bully flying through the air.
 
What’s that? I’m wrong? Oh, yes, excuse me. I see where I made the mistake. Of course, Dickie flew through the air, and Bully along on the ground. Now we’re all straight.
 
Well, pretty soon they came to the pond and to the little place where the water fell over the rocks and didn’t hurt itself, and there Bully fastened his water-wheel, which was nearly as large as he was, and quite heavy. He it so that the water would drop on the wooden paddles that stuck out like the of the baby carriage wheels, and in a short while it was going around as fast as an , splashing the drops of water up in the sunlight, and making them look like the diamonds which pretty ladies wear on their fingers.
 
“That’s a fine wheel!” cried Dickie. “I wonder if we could ride on it?”
 
“I guess we could,” spoke Bully. “It’s like a merry-go-round, only it’s turned up the wrong way. I’ll see if I can ride on it, and if it goes all right with me you can try it.”
 
So Bully hopped on the moving water-wheel, and, surely enough, he had a fine ride, only, of course, he got all splashed up, but he didn’t care.
 
“Do you mind getting your feathers wet?” he asked of Dickie as he hopped off, “because if you don’t mind the wet, you can ride.”
 
“Oh, I don’t mind the wet a bit,” said the sparrow boy. “In fact, I take a bath every morning and I wet my feathers then. So I’ll ride on the wheel and get wet now.”
 
Well, he got on, and around the wheel went, splashing in the water, and then Bully got on, and they both had a fine ride, just as if they were in a rainstorm with the sun shining all the while.
 
But listen. Something is going to happen, I think. Wait a minute—yes, it’s going to happen right now. What’s that animal along through the woods, closer and closer up to where Bully and Dickie are playing? What is it, eh? A cat! I knew it. A bad cat, too! I could just feel that something was going to happen.
 
You see that cat was hungry, and she hoped to catch the sparrow and the frog boy and eat them. Up she , walking as softly as a baby can creep, and just then Dickie and Bully got off the wheel, and sat down on the bank to eat a cookie, which Bully found in his water-proof pocket.
 
“Now’s my chance!” thought the cat. “I’ll grab ’em both, and eat ’em!” So she made a spring, but she didn’t jump quite far enough and she missed both Bully and Dickie. Dickie flew up into a tree, and so he was safe, but Bully couldn’t fly, though he hopped away.
 
After him jumped the cat, and she cried:
 
“I’ll get you yet!”
 
Bully hopped some more, but the cat raced toward him, and nearly had the froggie. Then began quite a chase. The cat was very quick, and she kept after Bully so closely that she was making him very tired. Pretty soon his jumps weren’t as long as they had been at first. And the cat was keeping him away from the pond, too, for she knew if he jumped into that he would get away, for cats don’t like water, or rain.
 
But finally Bully managed to head himself back toward the pond, and the cat was still after him. Oh, how she looked with her sharp teeth, and her glaring eyes! Poor Bully was much frightened.
 
All of a sudden, as he hopped nearer and nearer to the pond, he thought of a trick to play on that cat. He pretended that he could hardly any more, and only took little steps. Nearer and nearer sneaked the cat, her tail. At last she thought she could give one big spring, and land on Bully with her sharp claws.
 
She did spring, but Dickie, up in the tree, saw her do it, and he called to his friend Bully to look out. Then Bully gave a great big hop and landed on the water-wheel, and the cat was so surprised that she jumped, too, and before she knew it she had leaped on the wheel also. Around and around it went, with Bully and the cat on it, and water splashed all over, and the cat was so wet and that she forgot all about eating Bully. But Bully only liked the water, and didn’t mind it a bit.
 
Then the frog boy hopped off the wheel to the shore and hurried away, with Dickie flying overhead, and the cat, who was now as wet as a sponge, and very dizzy from the wheel going around so fast, managed to jump a little while . But her fur was so wet and plastered down that she couldn’t chase after Bully any more, and he got safely home; and the cat had to stay in the sun all day to dry out. But it served her right, I think.
 
Now in case the little boy next door doesn’t take our baby carriage and make an automobile of it, I’ll tell you next about Bawly and Uncle Wiggily.