WATER-TIGERS. 65 



of frequent trips to the creek to get polliwogs 

 enough to sustain the breath in life of Oliver and 

 his brethren. I was also compelled to become 

 a constructor of imitation ponds, lest the larva? 

 should want to burrow in the earth at times when 

 I was not around to give them any to burrow in. 

 Oliver's pond was constructed of a big, cracked 

 marble basin, that had once been stationary but 

 was so no longer, and a porcelain lid of capacious 

 diameter. The lid being turned upside down 

 and filled with water made Oliver's pond, and 

 this being set in the middle of the basin full of 

 earth, behold the lake was complete. 



A section of mosquito-bar was tied over the 

 whole so that should Oliver feel inclined to 

 wander from the limits of the basin and make his 

 tomb in the round, big earth, he could not do so. 

 The search for his sepulchre would certainly have 

 been discouraging then. But Oliver was capable 

 of giving me any amount of discouragement. 



After all my tribulations, early one morning 

 toward the end of April, I found he was not in 

 his lake. Joy filled my soul, for I knew he had 

 buried himself. He had stuffed himself with the 

 slain and had left two live polliwogs to mourn his 

 departure. 



Seizing a spoon I began to dig, feeling con- 

 fident that I should find Oliver's tomb in a few 

 moments, and intending, after looking at him, to 

 cover him gently again and stick up a tombstone 



