Papa No-Tail would dip his four feet, which were something like hands, in the different colored inks at the factory. There was red ink, and blue ink, and white ink, and black ink, and sky-purple-green ink, and also that newest shade, skilligimink color, which Sammie Littletail once dyed his Easter eggs. After he had his feet nicely covered with the ink, Papa No-Tail would hop all over pieces of white paper to make funny patterns on them. Then they would be ready to paper a room, and make it look pretty.

“I think that is very well done,” said the old gentleman frog to himself as he looked at one roll of paper on which he had made a picture of a mouse chasing a big lion. “Now I think I will make a pattern of a doggie standing on his left ear.” And he did so, and very fine it was, too.

“Now, while I’m waiting for the ink to dry,” said Mr. No-Tail, “I’ll lie down and take a nap.” So he went fast, fast asleep on a long piece of the wall paper that was stretched out on the floor, and this was the beginning of his trouble.

For, all at once, a puff of wind—not a cream puff, you understand, but a wind puff—came in the window, and rolled up the wallpaper in a tight little roll, and the worst of it was that Papa No-Tail was asleep inside. Yes, fast, fast asleep, and he never knew that he was wrapped up, just like a stick of chewing gum; only you mustn’t ever chew gum in school, you know.

Well, time went on, and the clock ticked, and Papa No-Tail still slept. Then a man looked in the window of the wallpaper factory and, seeing no one there, he thought he would take a roll of paper home with him, to paste on his little boy’s bedroom.

“The next time I come past here, perhaps someone will be in the office,” the man said, “and then I can pay them for the paper,” for he wanted to be very honest, you see. “I’ll get Uncle Butter, the goat, to paste the paper on the wall for me,” said the man. Then he reached inside the room, and what do you think? Why he picked up the very piece of wallpaper that was wrapped around Papa Chip-Chip—Oh, no, excuse me! I mean Papa No-Tail. Yes, the man picked up that roll, with Bully’s and Bawly’s papa inside, and away he went with it, and the old gentleman frog was still sound asleep.

Now this is about the middle of his trouble, just as I said I’d tell you, but we haven’t gotten to the end yet, though we will in a little while.

Home that man went, as fast as he could go, and on his way he stopped at Uncle Butter’s office.

“I have a little wallpapering I want done at my house,” the man said to the old gentleman goat, “and I wish you’d come right along with me and do it. I have the paper here.”

“To be sure I will,” said Uncle Butter. So he got his pail of paste, and gave Billie and Nannie Goat a little bit on some brown paper, just like jam, and they liked it very much. The goat paper-hanger took his shears, and his brushes, and his stepladders, tying them on his horns, and away he went with the man.

Pretty soon they came to the house where the man lived, and his little boy was there, and very delighted he was when he heard that he was to have some new paper on his room.

“May I watch you put it on?” he asked Uncle Butter.

“Yes,” answered the old gentleman goat, “if you don’t step in the paste, and spoil the carpet.”

The little boy promised that he wouldn’t, and Uncle Butter went to work. First he got his sticky stuff all ready, and then he made a little table on which to lay out and paste the paper.

“Now, we’ll cut the roll into strips and fasten it on the wall good and tight, so that it won’t fall off in the middle of the night and scare you,” said Uncle Butter. Then he reached for the roll of paper, and, mind you, Papa No-Tail was still asleep inside of it. But all at once, just as the paper-hanger goat was about to pick up the roll, Mr. No-Tail awakened and was quite surprised to discover where he was.

“My, I never would have believed it,” he said, and he wiggled his legs and arms and made a great rustling sound inside the roll of paper like a fly in a sugar bag.

“Hello! What’s that?” cried Uncle Butter, jumping back so quickly that he upset his paste-pot.

“What’s the matter?” asked the little boy in glad surprise.

“Why, there’s something inside that paper!” cried the goat. “See, it’s moving! There must be a fairy inside!”

Surely enough, the paper was rolling and twisting around on the floor in a most remarkable manner, for Papa No-Tail inside was wriggling and twisting, and trying his best to get out. But the paper was wound around him too tightly, and he couldn’t get loose.

“Oh, do you think it’s a fairy?” asked the little boy eagerly, for he loved the dear creatures, and wanted to see one.

“Let me out! Oh, please let me out!” suddenly cried Papa No-Tail just then.

“Of course it’s a fairy, my boy!” exclaimed Uncle Butter. “Didn’t you hear it call? Oh, I’m going right away from here! I’ve pasted all kinds of paper, but never before have I handled fairy paper, and I’m afraid to begin now.”

He started to run out of the room but his foot slipped in the paste, and down he fell, and his little table fell on top of him, and the stepladder was twisted in his horns. And Papa No-Tail was trying harder than ever to get loose, and the roll of wallpaper rolled right toward Uncle Butter.

“Don’t catch me! Please, don’t catch me!” the goat called to the fairy he supposed was inside. “I never did anything to you!”

Faster and faster rolled the paper, for Mr. No-Tail was wiggling quite hard now, and he was crying to be let out. Then, all of a sudden, the paper with the frog in, rolled close to the little boy. The boy was brave, and he loved fairies, so he opened the roll, and out hopped Mr. No-Tail, being very glad indeed to get loose, for it was quite warm inside there.

“Oh my! Was that you in the paper?” asked Uncle Butter, solemnly, sitting in the middle of the floor, on a lot of paste.

“It was,” said Papa No-Tail, as he helped the goat to get up.

“Well, I never heard tell of such a thing in all my life! Never!” exclaimed the goat, when the frog gentleman told him all about it. Then Uncle Butter pasted the paper on the wall, and Papa No-Tail hopped home, and that’s the end of the story, just as I promised it would be.

Now in case the pussy cat doesn’t wash the puppy dog’s face with the cork from the ink bottle and make his nose black, I’ll tell you on the next page about Bully playing marbles.

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