I was out with my folks on a Sunday drive, a little bit out of the city where the grass was green, the air was still sweet, and traffic was light. Our family used to go every month or so to rest a bit, catch a glimpse of a running stream, a pretty meadow, and an old abandoned barn. Dad always found a little something to yell about, and I always complained I was bored, but, all in all, we had fun.

Our car was oId and didn't run too well, but generally it got us where we wanted to go. My Mom wouId pack a lunch, all full of goodies and things: fried chicken cooked at home, hamburgers roasted on a grill, cold drinks frosted on a block of ice in an old washtub, cookies and cake, and marshmallows toasted on a small fire. Mom always worried the fire would spread or was not allowed, but Dad would say "Poo Poo".

Dad was asleep on the blanket, and Mom was reading a book. I was off out of sight wading in a small stream looking for frogs, snakes, and things. AII of a sudden, out of nowhere, I heard a sound that seemed to come out of the ground. I looked around and around for the source of that sound, but, what I saw near me, I had seen before. Nothing unusual did I see that could possibly produce the noise I heard. As I was about to give up, I turned with a start for the sound came again. I jumped and looked some more, got down on my hands and knees, and looked mighty carefully, but try as I might, nothing seemed to be there.

Again, dark and deep, I heard that sound shake the ground. Admit it I must, I almost turned right around to leave that spot in a rush. I was nervous and a little bit scared, but, I decided to be brave, at least for a minute, before retreating to the safety and comfort of a blanket completely equipped with Mom and Dad.

By chance, and I will never know what made me do it, I picked up a small rock to throw only to see a little frog before me. His skin was deep dark green, his eyes were as black as midnight, and he was so tiny you had to look twice to see him once. Another frog for my collection I thought at first. Bending down to make a quick capture, I almost jumped right out of my skin and fell flat on my nose. In a voice that reminded me of my grandfather and brought back fine memories, this tiny little frog no bigger than a dime said to me:

"My name is Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady, and I am a frog not a four leaf clover, so why are you looking for me?"

"Well," I said, a little taken aback, for I was not used to speaking with frogs as a general rule, "I was not looking for you. I wasn't even looking for a four leaf clover. I just picked up a rock to throw at that old shed out there when you appeared."

"No excuses. No excuses." the frog said, "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

His voice was grand and deep, and I was rather surprised and a little bit scared. For who, except on TV, or maybe in an old fairy tale, had ever come in contact with a talking frog, no bigger than a marble, with a voice as old as time, and coal black eyes that looked right through you . Not I for sure, and I sort of wondered if it would not be smart to get Dad and Mom. But before I had a chance to move, I was stopped dead in my tracks as Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady, the frog, began to grow and grow and grow.

I rubbed my eyes to make the wonder go. I even pinched myself - OUCH -- that pinch still hurts, to make certain I was not dreaming. I looked hopefully for Mom and Dad, but they were just around the bend and could not be seen, nor could they see me.

Mr. McReady, defying all the laws of nature I had been taught, continued to grow and grow. In about three shakes of a dragon's tail, there standing before me instead of a frog was a dapper little man whose huge top hat barely reached my nose. Dressed completely in green, his great flowing cape dominated the scene. Blowing about even though there was no wind, his cape was set off by a huge green top hat larger than that of the Cat in the Hat. His boots were of leather, and his green suit was plush. His nose was just a trifle large for such a little man, and his bushy white eyebrows, to say the least, stood out.

This little man or frog, or whatever he was, would not reach my nose, even if he stood on his toes and wore his huge, forest green, beaver, top hat. And, remember, I was far from being fully grown and only a few inches taller than you are now.

A long curved "meerschaum" pipe had he, its bowl delightfully yellowed with age, and twice as big as any pipe I had ever seen. Sherlock Holmes would have been proud of that pipe, and Mr. McReady clearly was proud of that pipe too.

Unusual, to say the least, unbelievable, astonishing and amazing, Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady was a sight to see. His outfit tickled my funny bone, and I wanted to laugh. But, remembering that it is not polite to laugh at people, I managed to hold my laugh in and get by with a big smile that is always polite.

In spite of his clothes and general appearance, Mr. Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady's smile charmed and captivated me. Merry, gay and cheerful, his smile overshadowed his solemn voice and took away all my fears.

Boldly I inquired, "Who are you?"

"I just told you, young-pickeruper-of-rocks-for-throwing-at-old-sheds. I am Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady, and since you moved my rock, I do not know whatever I shall do."

"Can't you find another rock?" I asked.

"I do not want another rock right now," he pouted, "as long as you made me get up I might as weII do something worthwhile."

"What should I do worthwhile?" questioned Mr. McWondrous before I had a chance to think

"Er, Umm, I don't know," I blurted out.

"Whatever do you mean, you don't know. You must know, You woke me up, Would it not be worthwhile if I gave you 863 new toys, including a magic miniature disappearing elephant that goes "Boom-Boom" and stamps his feet."

Before I could catch my breath, Mr. Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady took a deep puff on his pipe and blew out a thick cloud of smoke.

Mr. McReady's pipe I later learned was filled with a magical stuff that burns forever and always stays lit. No matches are used, and there is never a mess or fuss because there are no ashtrays to empty, and ashes and dust this pipe does not leave. Mom would not have to yell at Archibald J. X. McWondrous McReady the way she sometimes yells at Dad for smelling up the place or burning an occasional hole in a carpet or chair. And his magical stuff never caused cancer, lung disease, or even a slight cough. Instead it smelled like salt air and made you smile.