52 IN WINTER. 



ice, if necessary, that shuts from view the shal- 

 low pool, scoop up the dead pond weeds that 

 mat the soft mud below, and see how every bit of 

 it teems with curious life. The brilliant dragon- 

 flies that darted so angrily about you last sum- 

 mer dropped their eggs here in the water, and 

 these, hatching, produced creatures so widely 

 different from their parents that few people sus- 

 pect any kinship. Veritable dragons, on a small 

 scale, they are none the less active because ice 

 and snow have shut out the sunlight. With 

 their terrible jaws they tear to fragments in a 

 moment every insect within their reach. 



Like the dragon-flies, better known perhaps 

 as " devil's darning-needles," there are many 

 other insects that likewise spend their early days 

 in the meadow pools, and, as the collector will 

 find, every scoopful of mud and leaves will be 

 tenanted by a range of forms, some grotesque, 

 others graceful, and all of abounding interest. 



These curious creatures have not their little 

 world to themselves. There are many fishes 

 continually plowing up the mud with their 

 gristly snouts, and ready to swallow every pro- 

 testing wriggler that dares show itself in spite of 

 the nipping jaws. Whether the slim and slip- 

 pery salamanders, commonly called lizards, do 

 the same, I do not know, but they tunnel the 

 mud and burrow under every heap of water- 



