calls of the hylas which are the very voice of the 

 evening itself. 



About the time the hylas begin to sing in 

 chorus, you may look for the appearance of the 

 leopard-frog. He is to be heard at midday in his 

 pond uttering a most deliberate and prolonged 

 snore, evenly and smoothly drawn out, as if his 

 sleep were dreamless and content. Presently there 

 is an answering snore, full as deliberate and serene, 

 from across the pond, followed by long intervals 

 of silence. Very different from this somnolent song 

 of the leopard-frog is the shrilling of garden-toads. 

 Not every one would recognize the solemn and 

 dusty toad of the flower-beds, that flops from under 

 the feet in the dusk, in this brighter colored 

 creature, floating at full length in the shallow 

 water, his air-sac inflated before him like a parti- 

 colored bubble. The shrilling of toads fills the 

 air; they are under a spell, a witchery, which 

 has set them all to chanting this single strain — 

 high-pitched and subdued — with a sort of mild 

 frenzy. 



April brings the twittering of tree-swallows, 

 and spreads a tinge of color like a faint red mist 

 over the swamps. This flower of the maple is one 



19 



