At last the ox finished drinking his fill, but when he did, he noticed the water lilies. "How beautiful," the ox said, and the frog, hearing this, puffed out his chest.

"Croak, croak," he cried.

But it was not the frog the ox had noticed. He sniffed at the water lilies, and nudged his nose against them, and inhaled the sweet fragrance. He admired the way they floated so peacefully upon the water.

When the ox sniffed the water lilies, frog sighed. "Oh, never before have I seen such a magnificent creature. He is so majestic, so mysterious and strange!"

So frog puffed, and puffed, and puffed, puffing himself up to twice his size, then three times his size. "Any moment now he'll notice me," frog told himself. And in between those puffs, he croaked, calling to the ox.

Still the ox did not notice the frog, not even when the frog leaped from one water lily pad to the next, for by now the ox was dazzled by the sunlight glittering on the water and delighted by the rich smell of plant life and light.

"Croak, croak, croak," frog called, puffing himself up ever larger. "Please notice me, ox. Surely we're meant to be partners."

Soon frog had puffed himself up so much, he could not stand any longer. He rolled onto his side, twisting his head this way and that, trying not to lose sight of the ox. And still he grew, and still the ox did not seem to notice.

But the frog puffed himself up so large and grew so full of hot air, his outer skin could no longer hold itself together. "I'll make him notice me!" Suddenly he simply exploded. Poof, he was gone.

When the ox heard the loud banging noise -- for the frog indeed exploded with a bang -- he turned and looked, but of course when he did, the frog was gone.