V. 

 THE ROCK-GARDEN. 



HEARD the tremolo of the toads for 

 the first time, April 2oth later than 

 usual. They are supposed to be 

 silenced thrice by the cold a rule I have gen- 

 erally found to be true. Though limited in com- 

 pass, the toad possesses a musical voice, and 

 only sounds it in warm weather. The orches- 

 tration of the small frogs, where each one tries 

 to puff himself up as big as an ox, is emphat- 

 ically a vernal tone, but it can not be termed 

 musical. Their comical croakings always re- 

 mind me of the peculiar noise made by boat- 

 builders during the operation of calking. The 

 huge, green bull-frog of the swamps, who is not 

 heard until much later than his smaller brethren, 

 has the merit of a powerful organ not entirely 

 immelodious. In the distance, on hot summer 

 evenings, his grand bassoon blends well with the 



