and they would not help her.
Poor Little Freckle Frog felt very badly to think she had hurt their feelings. She almost cried about it. But just then Little Black Spider, who was a good friend of hers, peeped out from under a leaf and said:
"I wouldn't mind them. They are a conceited lot anyway. It is a hot day, too, and they are apt to be cross on hot days. I will spin you all the lace you want."
And so he did. He wove it all that day in his web, and the next morning he brought her a long piece of the loveliest spider-lace as fine as a cobweb. Little Freckle Frog was very grateful to him.
"But what shall I do for a parasol?" she asked.
"Oh, I'll tell you!" called a soft little voice, and when she looked up she saw a tiny white butterfly resting on a flower.
"I know where there is the dearest little mushroom. It kept the rain off of me the other day, and it is just as soft and pink as Big Mary's parasol."
So she showed Freckle Frog where to find the mushroom,
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