390 HOME LIFE IN FLORIDA. 



Sometimes he would go on a journey from his favorite 

 pitcher into our study adjoining the bed-room, climb the 

 desk, and hop serenely over books and papers, snapping 

 up a fly or mosquito or marauding spider here and there ; 

 occasionally he had even the impudence to sit on our hand, 

 a proceeding not much to our fancy, for our merry little 

 frog, ''Puck" we called him, was cold and clammy to the 

 touch, and the tiny disks on his toes, which enabled him to 

 cling to walls or ceilings, did not feel very pleasant. 



We had not the heart to injure the pretty little creature 

 (he was very small, like all his family, hardly half an inch 

 long), and therefore handled him very gently. But one 

 day, alas for Puck ! a wicked trespasser, in the shape of a 

 hen, saw him hopping under the window, returning from 

 an out-door excursion to his beloved perch on our pitcher, 

 saw him, pounced upon him and swallowed him ! 



It seemed almost ridiculous to feel regretful for a frog ; 

 but we did. And to this day we hope the unfortunate little 

 fellow made that lawless marauding hen uncomfortable by 

 kicking. 



So you see this trial, the frog bugbear, is not very heavy 

 to be borne. Even if a tiny frog does intrude once in a 

 while, it is harmless, and only comes to help free you from 

 troublesome insects. 



We have been ' ' taken in and done for " more than once 

 in the course of our experience, but we Avere never more 

 completely deceived than by one of these very same tiny 

 green frogs. 



It was soon after our arrival in Florida, and during that 

 transition period to which we have already referred, when 

 the free razor-back citizens of the Flowery State were de- 

 vouring all our young chicks who strayed outside the 

 poultry-yard fence. 



A heavy summer shower was pouring down from the 



