NOTES ON THE FROG. (RANA TEMPORABIA.) 



BY JOHN DIXON, ESQ. 



Poor, inoffensive Frog; what dost thou Jiere? 

 While cruel foes are standing neare ; 

 Come skip along, these flowers among. 



And banish all thy feare. 

 For now I note thy panting throat, 

 Thy glittering eye, and tinted coat; 

 And though thou can be friende to man. 



Yet oft thy limbes he'll teare. 

 'Tis sad to flnde the heart unkinde, 

 To creatures thus for good designed; 

 And framed by One, their course to run, 



To show His wisdom cleare. 



Autumn — crowned with that most inestimable blessing, an abundant 

 harvest — steals fast upon us ; the trees, clad in their leaves of brightest 

 hue, impart a quiet charm to the sunny landscape, now fanned by a soft 

 and murmuring breeze, with odours laden that from gentle showers have 

 sprung. The busy bee still wings its way amidst the floral beauties left, 

 and trips from flower to flower with drowsy hum. Our stony path yields 

 even forms to please that mind, which finds its gems in commonest weeds : 

 the groundsel still puts out a few flowers, neighbour to others of more 

 showy guize ; here the cranesbill lingers in happy contrast to the humble 

 dandelion or hawkweed, yet most gay; there the modest daisy unassumingly 

 peeps out; and as we wander on, the shepherd's-purse, bright ragwort, 

 knapweed, scabious, and the rest, do all attest, that daj's full mild remain. 

 The gurgling brook can boast its happy dwellers, too : for here the minnow, 

 stickleback, and loach ply their scaly oars, and timorous bullheads swiftly 

 dart about; the basking frog with keenest eye detects our near approach, 

 and touched with fear, beneath the surfoce dives. The banks are graced 

 with moistiire-loving alders, and the pensile birch ; while guelder-roses, 

 hollies, and the mountain ash, with scarlet berries glow; heps and haws 

 on eveiy hedge abound; and flowers of meadow-sweet, valerian, watei'-pepper, 

 and the plantain, stay the observant eye ; and serve to deck the crystal 

 stream, whose rocky banks with yellow ferns ai'e clad. A buttei'fly may 

 cross our path, and tiny insects sport above our heads; then, as the day 

 declines in mild twilight, the droning beetle soon the ear assails ; and 

 moths of varied tint now flit about, to tempt the swift winged bat to venture 

 out and skim the air. The swallows all are gone ; the wren and redbi-east 

 grow more bold, and cheer us with their song ; the sparrow, ever gay, still 

 chirps his lay, unmindful of the seasons' change ; he loves companionship, 

 and gladly joins the shoals of finches that now frequent the fold-yards, and 

 in the midst he holds a place, the noisiest of the crow. The missel-thrush, 



