POND MUSIC 41 



the frog from the toad. Not so the frogs and toads 

 themselves. The common toad observes its spawning 

 day about ten days after the frog. To be precise, the 

 observation of a few years places the toads' day exactly 

 eleven days after that of the frogs. The music of the 

 one fails to awaken the others, at any rate as a class, 

 though now and then we hear a very inexperienced 

 toad lift its comparatively high shriek in response to 

 the crooning of its smooth-skinned cousin. Only once 

 have we seen the whole body of both amphibians 

 meet in one pond, and on that occasion our statement 

 that they know one another part could hardly be 

 justified. Frogs and toads were mingled in a pro- 

 miscuous courtship, and the shrieking and the crooning 

 made a chorus never heard before or since. But in 

 the afternoon the toads began to withdraw from the 

 pool, and the next day, on a most diligent search, not 

 one could be found. 



While the sun shines the music continues. We hear 

 it far away in the wood where we have gone to see the 

 early humble-bees sucking the sallow blossoms ; they 

 hear it in the farm-house dairy, and know it for an 

 undoubted token of spring, and incidentally as an 

 earnest of much food for the ducks ; the ploughman 

 hears it as he turns his team, and though he mentions 

 it to no one at the day's close, it may be true that it 

 makes his heart rejoice. Perhaps it is truer still to 

 say that he feels it than that he hears it. It is part 

 of the same sensation as the drifting scent of larch 

 blossom, the palpitating up-current of air from the 

 heated stone wall, the thrill of spring warmth through 

 the densest clothing. 



Ducks are not the only enemies of the masses of 



