200 WASTE-LAND WANDERINGS. 



spot near the spring and acted just as strangely as be- 

 fore. This more strongly than ever aroused my curi- 

 osity, and I resumed the search. After several minutes 

 I at length touched with my foot an enormous bull- 

 frog, which gave a mighty leap and a loud grunt expres- 

 sive of displeasure. It had been squatting closely in 

 what was evidently a tattler's nest, a structure identical 

 with those of the common spotted sand-piper I had of- 

 ten found. This threw some light on the mystery. 

 The frog had been up to mischief, and the distressed 

 wood-tattler was the sufferer. I captured the criminal, 

 which was suspiciously aldermanic, and dissection proved 

 that it had swallowed four young tattlers, just emerged 

 from the shell. 



Running my boat under a cluster of hornbeams, 

 draped with Virginia creeper and daintily trimmed with 

 feathery thalictrum, I was quite concealed even from 

 any inquisitive creatures that might pass, and yet could 

 assume a comfortable position, as was far from being 

 the case when watching the wood-tattler. 



Here, with birds, trees, flowers, and rippling waters, I 

 proposed to take the world very easily and pursue the 

 most delightful occupation that is possible for man to 

 follow the whim of the moment. 



Feeling equally ready to meet and discuss a mam- 

 moth or a mouse, a heron or a humming-bird, I was 

 certain not to be disappointed whatever appeared, and 

 in the course of half an hour it proved to be a mouse. 

 From the opposite bank of the creek it crept slowly 

 over the muddy shore left bare by the receding tide, and 



