NOTES BY THE WAY 



less than a week it ceases, and I never hear them 

 again till the next April. As the weather gets 

 warmer, the toads take to the water, and set up 

 that long-drawn musical tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-ing note. The 

 voice of the bullfrog, who calls, according to the 

 boys, " jug o' rum," " jug o' rum," " pull the plug," 

 "pull the plug," is not heard much before June. 

 The peepers, the clucking frog, and the bullfrog 

 are the only ones that call in chorus. The most 

 interesting and the most shy and withdrawn of 

 all our frogs and toads is the tree-toad, the crea- 

 ture that, from the old apple or cherry tree, or red 

 cedar, announces the approach of rain, and baffles 

 your every effort to see or discover it. It has not 

 (as some people imagine) exactly the power of the 

 chameleon to render itself invisible by assuming 

 the color of the object it perches upon, but it sits 

 very close and still, and its mottled back, of dif- 

 ferent shades of ashen gray, blends it perfectly with 

 the bark of nearly every tree. The only change 

 in its color I have ever noticed is that it is lighter 

 on a light-colored tree, like the beech or soft maple, 

 and darker on the apple, or cedar, or pine. Then 

 it is usually hidden in some cavity or hollow of the 

 tree, when its voice appears to come from the out- 

 side. 



Most of my observations upon the habits of this 

 creature run counter to the authorities I have been 

 able to consult on the subject, 

 159 



