GUINEVERE THE MYSTERIOUS 1385 
ago, who came without warning, and withheld 
all the secrets of his life. And I glanced again 
at this super-tad,—as unlike her ultimate devel- 
opment as the grub is unlike the beetle,—and one 
of us exclaimed, “It is the same, or nearly, but 
more delicate, more beautiful; it must be Guine- 
vere.” And so, probably for the first time in the 
world, there came to be a pet tadpole, one with 
an absurd name which will forever be more sig- 
nificant to us than the term applied by a forgot- 
ten herpetologist many years ago. 
And Guinevere became known to all who had 
to do with the laboratory. Her health and daily 
development and color-change were things to be 
inquired after and discussed; one of us watched 
her closely and made notes of her life, one painted 
every radical development of color and pattern, 
another photographed her, and another brought 
her delectable scum. She was waited upon as 
sedulously as a termite queen. And she re- 
warded us by living, which was all we asked. 
It is difficult for a diver to express his emo- 
tions on paper, and verbal arguments with a den- 
tist are usually one-sided. So must the spirit 
of a tadpole suffer greatly from handicaps of the 
flesh. A mumbling mouth and an uncontrollable, 
