THE FROGS. 



corners, into one of which he may wedge himself, and pass 

 the dry months in a state of torpor, conserving his vital 

 juices till next monsoon. This is a proposal, of course, 

 which cannot be entertained. He is all very well flattened 

 out under a flower-pot or between the stones of a fernery ; 

 but it is preposterous to suppose that he can be allowed to 

 take up his winter quarters inside the house, and I think 

 the most considerate course is to impress this on him be- 

 fore he has crossed the very narrow line that separates 

 his normal state from actual unconsciousness. 

 For I have kindly feelings towards the toad; the density 

 of his stupidity, and his placid contentment, make ill-will 

 towards him impossible. Low-bred he is, but more than 

 half the world must always be low- bred; there is no crime 

 in that. No sane man pretends to despise another merely 

 because he is low-bred; unless, indeed, he feels that his own 

 high breeding stands in need of a contrast to make it 

 visible. Ostentatious vulgarity is a very different thing, 

 and it is this that makes the frog an offence to me. He is 

 for making a noise in the world. He will thrust his gross 

 entity on your notice. If the rain, which damps everything 

 else, only cheers the spirits of frogs, I have no objections ; 

 let them be happy. But why must they, with their riotous 



9 



