2ig 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[Sept. io, 1898. 
members it on the day when the bass "won't take 
nothinV He thinks of that hour's fun and forgets that 
for the day he is having the poorest of luck. Of all the 
good catches taken in this best of lakes, I somehow or 
other look back to this hour's fun, when the sun 'was 
throwing its last disappearing rays over the surface of 
the lake, as being the liveliest of them all. It was un- 
sportsmanlike, and no doubt savoring of the "fish hog," 
but the fish were there in a school, and the rods were 
there, and the temptation came upon me to imitate the 
farmer's boy and see myself emulating the egg-spreading 
hen. 
We saved the small-mouthed bass and allowed those 
impon the live string, of the large-mouthed variety, their 
(freedom. We took home a moderate catch of bass 
:after all, enough for our own table and those of our 
iimmediate neighbors. Somehow or other, when on 
fishing bent, and when, after completing my prepara- 
tions for an early morning start out of town, I have 
more than once after retiring dreamt of that hour's 
fishing, and have yelled out in my sleep, "Here, Charlie, 
take it! Keep him out of my way till I land this 
one. Gee, but he's a whopper," only to get a sharp and 
well directed elbow in my ribs, with the wifely injunc- 
tion not to wake up the whole house, but to wait un- 
til I reached the lake, and then shout to my heart's 
content. 
Charles Cristadoro. 
St. Paul, Minn. 
Our Frogs* 
BY FRED MATHER. 
The following request, on a postal card, is the occa- 
sion of this article: "Could you give us a chapter on 
ifrogs, the varieties, life history and a full description of 
the different kinds of frogs found in North America? 
I am sure the readers of Forest and Stream would 
appreciate an article on this subject." 
I consulted the editor — it's of no use to leave him out 
of the calculation — and he thought the subject might 
be interesting if written in a popular manner. By this I 
understand the "if" to mean that I might try to popu- 
larize the subject, and he glanced at the waste basket, 
which was large, but not quite full. I had just given him 
a dry lot of manuscripts on the differences of fishes and 
how to distinguish them, and went home with a mind 
filled with frogs, and attempts to pull together what 1 
might know about them. Then followed a hard night. 
'Great frogs sat on my chest and almost suffocated me, 
•and then would leap from that anatomical protuberance 
into an enormous waste basket, only to be followed by 
another, bigger yet, and somehow that basket never be- 
came full. At breakfast it was suggested that I had been 
visited by "the nightmare and her nine fold," but I 
denied it and said: "There was merely a frog in my 
throat." 
The morning mail brought a letter from the Adiron- 
dacks, written by a boy of fourteen who has fished with 
me for codfish in winter from the iron pier at Coney 
Island, and whom I have interested in observing all ani- 
mal life. His father, with my consent, allowed him to 
call me "Uncle"; you know that a boy does not want to 
"Mister" those he fishes with, and so he writes: , 
"Dear Uncle Fred: I wish you were here with us. 
There was a deer that waded out in the lily-pads close 
to us yesterday, but you have seen deer enough. I want 
to say about the toads up here, I don't believe you 
have noticed them; they are all fancy colored, and not a 
bit like the mud-colored toads in Brooklyn. When I 
go back I will bring 3'ou some, and let you see for 
yourself, and then you can write up the handsome 
Adirondack toads in Forest and Stream, which we 
have sent to us up here. Jack." 
There seems to be no means of escape. The frogs 
and toads are closely related, and once a forgotten cor- 
respondent asked what was the difference between a frog 
and a toad, and if one was edible, why not both? I 
cannot answer this last question, because I do not know 
of any man who has eaten a toad. 
Toads. 
To begin with, the so-called "horned toad" of the far 
Southwest is not a toad, but a true lizard. All lizards 
love the sun, have scales of some sort, and never have 
naked skins, nor do they live in water or damp places, 
like the salamanders, newts, efts or evets. 
"No, Jack," I wrote him, "you have not found a new 
species of toad, merely a local variation of color in 
the same old brown toad that you knew near Brooklyn. 
Bring some down and let them loose in your garden. 
This family of tailless batrachians has but one species in 
North America. Don't be afraid to handle them on ac- 
count of that idle talk about warts. I've handled toads 
all my life, and never had a wart. I never see a toad but 
there is a desire to handle it, and they can be made very 
tame. Try to tame one by handling and feeding it flies. 
Note_ how its tongue is fast to the front of its lower jaw 
and is free behind, and how it can throw this glutinous 
tongue out and capture a fly or an ant so quickly that 
your eye can hardly follow the motion. 
"In spring and early summer that long-drawn plain- 
tive cry like 'qua-ah-ah' is the call of the toad from the 
ponds and marshes, where it breeds, and is made before 
it goes back to its favorite garden to assist the gardener 
to keep down insect life. Those stringy bits of jelly 
you see in the water are most likely the eggs of the toad, 
as the frog lays its eggs in large masses, yet you might 
mistake the eggs of the salamander for those of the toad. 
The small, very black tadpoles are likely to be young 
toads. Toads confined in mines and cellars have laid 
their eggs in damp earth instead of water, and they 
have hatched perfect toads, skipping the tadpole state. 
It is a fact that the skin of a toad exudes an acrid mois- 
ture which so burns the mouth of a dog that he soon 
learns to distinguish a toad from a frog, and seldom 
wants to sample a second toad. 
"And now. Jack, go in for toads and all other life 
that comes your way, and you will find great pleasure in 
gaining knowledge at first hand, even if you are now 
disappointed at not having discovered a new species of 
toad. When you look at the eye of a toad you will 
see a most beautiful one, and will fully understand 
Shakespeare's reference to it in the lines: 
"The toad, ugly and venomous, 
Yet bears within its head a precious jewel." 
"I am quoting from memory and will call attention 
to the fact that there are people living to-day who re- 
gard the toad with aversion, and believe that it spits 
venom. Don't believe a word of it, nor of the story 
that young toads rain down. They simply come out 
from their hiding places after a rain, that's all. Bring 
down some gaily-colored toads." 
Tree Frogs. 
These are usually called "toads," but are frogs. Their 
fingers and toes are tipped with disks, which exude a 
sticky substance that enables them to climb up glass. 
We have about half a dozen species in the Eastern 
United States. Some of these are the "peepers" whose 
mating call is heard in the swamps before spring has 
had time to do more than push out the catkins on the 
pussy-willows; and a drop of the thermometer to. below 
30 degrees silences them . again for a while. Of these 
tree frogs there_ is one species known as the cricket frog, 
which is heard in the swamps from southern New York 
to Illinois, and is a poor climber. Jordan says: "Its 
note resembles the rattling of pebbles," but to me its 
rapid notes are a reminder of a boy with a stick in con- 
junction with a picket fence. 
Next comes another swamp tree frog that really climbs 
trees, at times. Cope says: "Its voice is a rattle with a 
rising inflection at the end," and Jordan adds: "Or like 
the scraping of a coarse-toothed comb." It is an impos- 
sible thing to convey an idea of the sounds made by 
many of nature's vocalists. I may be deficient in im- 
agination, but I never heard a crow say "caw," nor a 
quail whistle either "Bob White" or "more wet"; for 
the quail has three notes, the first very low. I never 
heard a duck say "quack" nor a plover say "kill deer." 
From the sounds made by the swamp tree frog I could, 
by night or day, close my eyes and imagine that a band 
of old-fashioned minstrels were performing in the dis- 
tance and only the "bones" were audible; and for years 
the frog, which science calls by the clumsy name of 
Chorophilus triseriatus, I have known as "Billy Burch," 
and I'll leave it to Jack if that is not the best name of 
the two, for "Billy" shook the "osteological speci- 
mens" from boyhood until he died two years ago, aged 
seventy-two years. 
I will now appeal to Jack, and to the gallery, for ap- 
plause for refraining from dragging in descriptions of 
these little beasts, most of whom are much shorter than 
their names; for an illustration of this, see the above 
name of a frog which never, in its best feeding grounds, 
exceeds iin. in length. Still it is a frog, and entitled to 
be known as one. 
The most common of our tree frogs is seldom seen. 
Its loud, clear trill is heard in the woods morning and 
evening, and in damp weather, but the little fellow, 
measuring less than 2in., has a way of hugging a branch 
when alarmed, and looking like a bit of parti-colored 
moss or lichen. These pretty creatures have an elastic 
skin on the throat which they inflate to the size of a 
filbert, when they "peep" in the spring in the marshes or 
trill in the woods in summer, where they go after the 
mating season is over. In color they may be gray, brown 
or green; possibly they can adapt color to their sur- 
roundings. There are several species, but all can leap 
from limb to limb like squirrels. 
Edible Frogs. 
All frogs are edible if freshly caught. Perhaps the 
bullfrog will bear keeping alive for a while and still 
be good; I am not certain of this; but once, when I 
kept a lot of small, green frogs in confinement for two 
weeks, their yellow vests turned white; and when they 
were cooked there was a bitterness that is foreign to 
this or any other frog that I have eaten, and with 
the exception of the two species of little wood frogs I 
have eaten them all. These wood frogs are colored a 
light reddish-brown, and are too small and scarce to 
hunt or I would have sampled them. Besides these 
species we- have five others, mostly small, but edible. 
Four species never exceed 3m. in length of body, while 
a bullfrog has been known to have a body gin. long from 
tip of nose to where the tail would sprout, if there was 
one. It is a common error to consider all small frogs 
as immature bullfrogs. A bullfrog is one from the 
time it is hatched from the egg, and if fortunate grows 
to a size that no other species could attain if it should 
live for a century. 
The Leopard Frog. 
This is common, known to science as Rana virescens. 
bright green "with irregular black blotches edged with 
whitish, these mostly in two irregular rows on the 
back; usually two spots between the eyes; legs barred 
above; belly pale. Length, 2^in.. N. Am. W. to Sierra 
Nevada, very common." This quoted description and 
all others not specially credited are from Jordan's 
"Manual of the Vertebrates." 
The Pickerel Frog. 
This, R. palustris, is, as its name indicates, a swamp 
frog. "Light brown, with two rows of large oblong 
square blotches of dark brown on back; one or two on 
sides; a brown spot above eye; a dark line from nostril 
to eye; upper jaw white spotted with black; head short, 
obtuse; toes well webbed. Length, 2%in. E. U. S., in 
mountains, etc." 
Just why this is called the "pickerel frog" is beyond 
my guessing ability, for if there is a species of frog 
which a pickerel will always refuse it is a frog which is 
not on my visiting list, and one whose acquaintance I 
will decline if an introduction is proposed. 
There is a point which I should have mentioned. All 
frogs have their ear drums on the outside of their heads, 
not protected by a long interior canal, as are the same 
organs in mammals, and these circular disks are very con- 
spicuous. The scientist notes the size of this drum, and 
finding it constant in species gives it a value. In the two 
preceding species the ear, or tympanum, is smaller than 
the eye. 
The Northern Frog. 
R. septentrionalis is another little fellow, about the size 
of the other two, and its ear drum is also comparatively 
small. "Brown or olive, with paler vermiculations; 
sometimes a few dark blotches behind; pale below, 
*" * * Canada to Montana." This, to me, is not a 
common frog. I have picked it up oiten when frog- 
ging, and have marked it for identification after cook- 
ing and called it "as good as the rest." 
The Green Frog. 
In R. clamata — noisy — we find a slightly larger species 
than any that have been mentioned, growing to a body 
length of 3in. or over, with thighs in proportion. This 
frog, with the bullfrog, has its tympanum larger than its 
eye. It is "green or brownish, brighter in front; gener- 
ally with irregular small, black spots; arms and legs 
blotched; toes well webbed; first finger not extending 
beyond second. * * * E. U. S., in springs, etc." 
Dry Stuff. 
I know this sort of stuff is very dry fodder, and I've 
shortened it up as much as it would bear, but when 
a fellow is asked to write up our frogs, he must tell how 
they differ. The information being divided under sub- 
heads, I feel that I have aided some readers in skipping 
the more dessicated portions and will try to interest 
them further on, if they like frogs. 
Ye Bulle Frogge. 
When Pat found a pond in his path and tried to wade 
it after listening to advice from the other side, and was 
nearly drowned in crossing, his remarks were, as 
recorded in the Talmud and the Rig Vedas: "Ye little 
spalpeens, ye omadouhns! I'd split yer heads wid my 
shillaly for sayin' its 'knee-deep, knee-deep,' and en- 
ticin' me to a drownin'! Yer grandfather, over beyant, 
tould me 'go 'roun', go 'roun',' an' next time I'll tak' 
the oul' man's advice." 
Some years ago one of your always readable corre- 
spondents wrote up the old account of the migration of 
"The Frogs of Wyndham," which alarmed that part of 
New England so severely over a century ago that a poem 
was written on the subject in the Revolutionary days. 
I have assumed that the "Frogs of Wyndham" were 
bullfrogs. The chances are that it was "fresh-water day" 
for a battalion of spade-foot frogs, a toads, for I am not 
sure where they belong. They are solitary, and burrow 
in the soil in the woods, having a spur on the heel for 
digging; but when they congregate in a pond their noise 
is terrific. Dr. Abbott says: "The machinery for pro- 
ducing sounds equal to a steam whistle is apparently 
confined to the throat of this rare and curious batrach- 
ian." I never heard them but once, in a pond near my 
house on Long Island, and people came, for miles around 
with lanterns, thinking that murder on a large scale was 
being done. 
The true bullfrog (Rana catesbiana) , named after Mark 
Catesby, who first figured the animal, has enormous 
ear drums and a voice to correspond. It is the largest 
of all frogs, and varies in color from a brown to green 
of various shades, the head being usually bright pale 
green. Its food, like that of its relatives, consists of 
worms, snails, insects, small fishes, and even young tur- 
tles have been found in its stomach. 
The common frog of Europe is a small one, about 3m. 
in length, and some of them once gave me a chance to 
observe the cannibal tendencies of our big frog, I was 
going to -England, and by request of Prof. Baird took 
six of the biggest live bullfrogs that I could get, se- 
lected from several hundred at Mr. Blackford's, in Ful- 
ton Market, and they were enormous. They were for 
Mr. Moore, Curator of the Derby Museum, at Liverpool. 
How long the frogs had been without food when I 
delivered them to Mr. Moore is more than I can say, 
but they had had nothing while on the ship, and per- 
haps nothing for weeks before. Mr. Moore put them in 
his frog cage with a dozen of his natives. I warned 
him of the result, but he did not care; there were plenty 
more. The big Americans were dropped into the cage, 
looked around, and then each swallowed a "native," as 
Mr. Moore called them. 
"How slick they went down," said he. "I expected 
some remark first, something like: 
"'Fee, fi, fo, fum, 
I smell the blood of an Englishman,' 
from these giants. Look there! The last one's gone; 
they should have had two each, but I think one of your 
Yankees got three. They took them so rapidly that it 
was impossible to keep count." And the pleased curator 
rubbed his hands and. remarked, "They've remarkable 
appetites; but I suppose a sea voyage has sharpened them 
up a bit. I'll get more frogs for them to-morrow, but 
if they're not to be had I'll try them on sparrows." 
Mr. Moore wrote me afterward that "they took spar- 
rows quite well." And so we see what appetites these 
fellows have. 
Frog Culture is Impossible. 
About once a year the story of a mythical frog farm, 
where much wealth is harvested every season, goes the 
rounds of the newspapers. Seth Green started it in an 
article on raising frogs, published in one of the Reports 
of the State Fish Commission, stating how easily the 
spawn could be gathered and hatched; but he went no 
further; he was widely quoted and that was the end of 
it, if not the object of his paper. He was right. They 
can be hatched in any quantity in pools of still water at 
summer temperatures, and the tadpoles can be fed and 
grown if protected until the transformation into a frog 
comes, and then they leave the water and catch insects; 
it is impossible then to feed them and they die. I speak 
from experience, having been a student of the frog during 
a long career of fishculture, covering thirty years. In 
the early days I read of a successful frog farm near 
Nutley, N. J., and went there, but no one knew of it, nor 
could I find the man. A similar experience in Indiana 
made me skeptical, but it was only personal study and 
experience that made me an unbeliever. 
I can feed a single frog by dangling a bit of meat be- 
fore its nose; the meat stirs and the frog seizes it, but it 
will not pick up that meat from the ground if thrown. 
