Come to think of it, a bullfrog isn’t a bad emblem of wisdom — better, perhaps, 
than the proverbial owl. Rana looks as if he has a lot of good philosophy. 
How the Polly Wog Became a Frog. 
VERSES BY DR. W. H. POMEROY, STAMFORD, 
CONNECTICUT. 
WRITTEN TO AMUSE A I.ITTLE GIRL. 
There was a little frog, 
And he sat upon a log, 
And he piped a little song 
About the water. 
And underneath the log, 
A little Polly Wog — 
You’d scarce believe it was — 
The froggie’s little daughter. 
Xow little Polly Wog 
Saw her daddy on the log. 
And she wanted to get up 
And sit there too: 
But all without avail, 
She wagged her little tail. 
And cried, “I can’t climb up, 
Boo hoo, boo hoo!” 
Now while Polly was at play, 
A fairy came that way, 
All dressed in gorgeous robes 
So fine and neat. 
And said to little Polly, 
’'Would you rather have a dolly, — 
Or would you rather have 
Some legs and feet?” 
"O lovely sprite so airy. 
Oh please, my dear good fairy, 
If I might ask of one 
So good and sweet, 
O please,” said little Polly, 
’‘I do not want a dolly, — 
But give me, please, some 
Legs and arms and feet.” 
While the fairy waved her wand, 
Polly wiggled in the sand, 
Then she felt a thrill of 
Ecstasy complete. 
As she hopped upon the log, 
By the side of daddy frog, 
With the cutest little 
Arms and legs and feet. 
Shrill March winds awake the spring, 
’Till now so sweetly sleeping; 
And soon to mortals she will bring 
The treasures in her keeping. 
— Emma Peirce. 
A Lawyer a Good Nature Student 
I like to meet Judge H. Stanley 
Finch of Stamford, Connecticut. He 
always has a good story to tell and 
knows how to adapt his stories to his 
audience. With me he seems to treas- 
ure up some observation regarding na- 
ture and take especial delight in show- 
ing the keenness of the idea. Recently 
almost a block away 1 saw his 
face aglow with anticipation of telling 
me something that 1 would appreciate. 
And quite right he was. He accurately 
described the habits of the earthworm 
in working over the soil and told me 
what a good friend of the farmer it is 
with as much enthusiasm as if he were 
the first one who had ever noticed the 
wonderful creature. It is a well- 
known fact that even a hackneyed sub- 
ject may have all the charm of original 
discovery to a real enthusiast, and the 
judge was quite surprised and almost 
disappointed when I stated that I knew 
his observations to be correct because 
so many others had told me of seeing 
the same things and because the story 
is told with elaborate detail in “Vege- 
table Mould and Earth-Worms” by no 
less an author than Charles Darwin, 
who published his observations some 
thirty years ago. 
There is one phase of the worms, 
however, that Judge Finch had not seen 
and which I find is overlooked by many 
other observers, and that is the way in 
which straw and leaves are pulled down 
into the burrows. This is delightfully 
described by Darwin, who tells also of 
their piling up pebbles. He gives us 
the astonishing story as follows : 
“When worms cannot obtain leaves, 
petioles, sticks, etc., with which to plug 
up the mouths of their burrows, they 
often protect them by little heaps of 
