AN OCTOBER DIARY. 271 



face, looked at me sharply, and went off abruptly, with 

 a knowing twitter meant only for me. Soon came an- 

 other of its kind, chirped "good-morning," and was 

 gone — but still that bell-like vibration was not repeated. 

 Had I imagined it, after all? I was about to come 

 away, and, half -rising, was suddenly startled by the 

 shrill peep ! that surely came from the bushes near by. 

 I looked in every direction, scanned every leaf, but 

 nothing visible could have uttered it. I rose to ex- 

 tend the search, and instantly the note was repeated. 

 " Where is the creature ?" I exclaimed, and, shading my 

 eyes to see more clearly towards the rising sun, I 

 touched a cold object on the rim of my hat. I took it 

 in my hand, with a startled movement. It was a Pick- 

 ering's Hyla that I had brushed from the hyssops, and 

 had borne all this while so near me without suspicion. 

 I have seen men look for their spectacles, which were 

 the while resting upon their foreheads; and this was 

 much the same thing. This little tree-toad, which is 

 a diminutive frog with disks on his toes, and an arboreal 

 batrachian, is not abundant with us, its place being 

 taken by the exceedingly abundant peeper, or Savan- 

 nah cricket. Their vocal powers, however, are so ad- 

 mirably developed that they make up for want of num- 

 bers by their ringing notes, that, heard among the trees, 

 give one the impression of many chirping birds. This 

 note is unlike the harsher "kweep" of the Savannah 

 cricket, or Hylodes, and the two will never be con- 

 founded, when both have been heard and recognized. 

 It is a difference readily appreciated, when the two are 

 compared, but not easily described. It may be said 



