40 THE ROLL OF THE SEASONS 



unbroken roll that fills the ear to the exclusion of all 

 other sounds. A few heads disappear while we are 

 getting cautiously into a front seat. They come 

 slowly up, one by one, first as shiny noses, then 

 with the added twin bumps in which shine the 

 jewel-like eyes, finally buoyed out of the water by 

 the filled wind instrument beneath. There is nothing 

 more luxurious in nature than the body of a frog 

 balanced in water by its exactly appropriate specific 

 gravity, all the legs thrown out with the air of having 

 nothing to do, the sunshine sparkling on the shiny 

 nobs of its head freshly dipped in the nether element. 

 Everything looks as warm as the scented zephyr that 

 plays on the cheek of the onlooker, though as a matter 

 of fact a dip of the hand in the water alters our opinion. 

 But it is the frog's element, as testifies his happy 

 croaking. 



This is neither the only nor the largest pond of the 

 area that must have been drained for the supply of so 

 large a concourse. It has been, however, for many 

 years the frogs' pond. A frog, however musical, who 

 got into (5ther water and raised the spring rallying 

 cry, would sing in vain that is, if his hope was to 

 call together anything like a congregation. He might 

 secure a mate, as happens now and then to such soli- 

 tarian, but the paddock-pond would remain the great 

 meeting-ground of the clan. Yet there have been 

 times when all the frogs of a neighbourhood have 

 been found spawning in a miserably inadequate pond, 

 or even in a patch of rain-water that evaporates a 

 few days after the masses of eyed jelly have been left 

 there. 



The ordinary person finds a difficulty in knowing 



