The Frog Comments

I believe Belloc wrote " Billy" , not " Bill" Bandy-knees, as " Bill" doesn't scan.

An alluring poem for children, drawing them in with a tale of the fabled frog....yeah right you are mr. Terence George Craddock

I had once a friend, a frog. He would come to my kitchen to dine in style. I wrote about him in my blog: naituretails.blog

Thanks dear this helps me a lot for my assessment

Very nice

Very nice line of poem

The frog is an animal, few people would love to admit. If we misbehave the animals, what should it be called, animalty or humanity? ? Thanks for the sharing.

(The Frog by Hilaire Belloc.) **Trivia with a twist. Fun for the reading.

We have two books w/this poem. In one the text reads Gap-a-grin (like above) and the other reads Gape-a-grin. Does anyone know which is correct?

Loved the rhythm of the poem.

One big frog used to climb the front stairs and stays under the stair case. When I tap with a stick, it decently withdraws backward under the small gap of the gate!

Somebody didn't like Belloc's take on a frog, and he turned it into an anti-racist poem. Big tongue, little cheek. It's no coincidence that the French are called Frogs.

How perceptive to pick such an unlikely subject and be so sympathetic and humorous whilst keeping an admirable rhythm to the piece.

it's good words, amazing.

yes, who keeps frogs? only frog farms.

Brilliantly, Belloc uses condescending verse (ostensibly, a children's poem) to teach adults a life lesson.

An eccentric type pet, reflecting the nature of the owner. Though kids around the pond, find them sport to catch.

What a consolation Hilaire Belloc has for the frog called by many names!

Straight with so much care on the frog...but The dictionary gives one more meaning to the word frog as 'a decorative loop of braid or cord '...somebody else might find some different meaning too as I guess...nice to read

To Philippa Lane: Tarantella Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? And the tedding and the bedding Of the straw for a bedding, And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees, And the wine that tasted of tar? And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers (Under the vine of the dark veranda) ? Do you remember an Inn, Miranda, Do you remember an Inn? And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers Who hadn't got a penny, And who weren't paying any, And the hammer at the doors and the din? And the hip! hop! hap! Of the clap Of the hands to the swirl and the twirl Of the girl gone chancing, Glancing, Dancing, Backing and advancing, Snapping of the clapper to the spin Out and in- And the ting, tong, tang of the guitar! Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? Never more; Miranda, Never more. Only the high peaks hoar; And Aragon a torrent at the door. No sound In the walls of the halls where falls The tread Of the feet of the dead to the ground, No sound: But the boom Of the far waterfall like doom. Hilaire Belloc