1876.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
267 
whim, the old frog gave a great leap and disappeared 
from sight. Rana could not tell what had become of her; 
he swam here and there, looking for her in vain. While 
he rested a moment to think where she could have gone, 
the water all at once darkened above him, and looking 
up, saw a hungry fish, with its mouth wide open, just 
ready to swallow him whole. He darted away in an in¬ 
stant, and hid himself under a large stone, where he 
stayed until he saw his mother suddenly plunge down 
from above. 
“ Where have you been ? ” he cried, coming out to meet 
her. “ You left me all alone, and a big fish nearly ate me 
up. I suppose you were hiding and would not come to 
help me ! ”—“ I was not here at all, X was on land,” said 
his mother.—“ Do you mean at the other end of the 
pond?” asked Rana.—-“No, my dear. I leaped out of 
the water on to the land. The air is very fresh there this 
morning.”—“I don’t understand you at all,” saict the 
tadpole, impatiently. “What is this talk about land and 
air? You don’t expect me to believe there is anything 
outside of this place where we live, do you?”—“No,” 
said his mother, “ I don’t expect you to believe anything 
I tell you, but when you are older, you will find out for 
yourself.” 
Now, though Rana had said he did not believe it, he 
could not help thinking of what his mother had told him, 
and longing to see if it was true. As time went on, his 
tail completely disappeared, his hind-legs grew to their 
full length, and so did his fore-legs, his back became 
green, with yellow stripes; in fact, he was no longer a 
tadpole, but a little frog, growing larger every day. Now 
that he had legs like his mother, he resolved to try if he, 
too, could get to land ; so going one day to the edge of 
the pond, he gave a great leap, and to his surprise found 
himself on the solid earth. He looked around and saw 
many strange things ; the fields and woods, and the wav¬ 
ing willows were all new and wonderful, and to his 
amazement he found the lake in which he had lived was 
a very small part of the great world. He stayed on the 
shore a long while, thinking what a brave fellow he was, 
and at last resolved to live in the Jake no longer, but to 
set out to see this great world. So he leaped back again, 
and said “good-by” to his mother with a grand air. 
“ You must not go,” cried the old frog, “ the dry season 
is coming, and you will die for want of water! Stay 
here where you are safe! ”—But Rana paid no heed. 
“ She’s an old fogy! ”—he said to himself, as he set out on 
his travels. It was at first very pleasant to leap across 
the fields, there were a plenty of flies and other insects, 
and he often cooled himself in the brooks he had to cross; 
as day after day passed by, Rana grew larger and fatter 
and greener. But after a few weeks the weather changed; 
no rain fell for many days, the brooks were all dried up, 
and again and again poor Rana wished himself back in 
the cool Lake of the Weeping Willows. But he could 
not remember the way back, so he was forced to go on, 
with feeble leaps, almost dead for want of water. At 
last he spied a little muddy pool, towards which he hur¬ 
ried with his last strength, and plunged into the water. 
Oh ! how cool it felt to his parched skin! Rana stayed 
in the pool a long while, and then came out and sat on 
the edge, croaking loudly. This is what he was saying. 
“I suppose I must have traveled a thousand miles all 
alone ! Who says I can’t take care of myself? I’ve 
grown handsomer, too, I see myself in the pool, my eyes 
are beautiful, and how fat I am! I would not go back to 
that old lake-” 
He was croaking so loudly that he did not hear two 
little boys who were coming nearer and nearer to him. 
One of them had a large bag in his hand, and creeping 
up behind the poor frog, he seized him by the leg and 
popped him into it. Then both the boys ran home. 
“ 0 1 Mother,” they cried, “ see what a nice frog we have 
got for dinner, he has such fat legs.” Rana leaped [and 
struggled, but he could not get out.—“ Oh, if I were 
home,” he thought, “ how kind I would be to my 
brothers, and how gentle to my mother 1 ”—But it was 
too late, poor, foolish Rana never saw the “ Lake of the 
Weeping Willows ” again, but the French boys and their 
mother had a very nice dinner. 
Aunt Sue’s Clints. 
I shall begin to think, pretty soon, that you boys are 
poking fun at me. Just see what “M. I. M.” asks me 
about 1—“ Dear Aunt Sue : I am nine years old ; can you 
tell me how to make a top sail-boat of any kind of rig¬ 
ging? What size of hook3 you want for trout, and 
where is the best place to catch them ? M. I. M.”—Well 
now, M. I. M., I don’t suppose I know anything more 
about constructing a sail-boat than yon do ; but I’ll tell 
you how I should go to work if I wanted to make one. 
I should get a piece of soft wood, about 5 inches long, 3 
wide and IX deep. Then I should mark the shape 
of the boat on the 3-inch wide surface, like figure 
1, and proceed to cut out the inside. When that was 
done to suit me, I should cut away the outside, like figure 
2. Then I should put two seats across for the rowers, 
“ Yes, but I said ‘ sail-boat.’ I know it, but let us have 
it so that it will do for either. Then I should make a 
hole in the center of the seat (the one just forward of the 
center of the boat) to step the mast into, cutting a little 
notch at the bottom of the inside, right under the hole in 
the seat, to hold the bottom of the mast, figure 3. Now 
I should whittle a mast about 9 inches long, and cut a 
Fig. 1.—BEGINNING THE BOAT. 
sail like figure 4 out of white muslin, which I should sew 
or gum around the mast. Then I should make a small 
crutch for the gaff, and a larger crutch for the boom, (the 
gaff should be just half the length of the boom), letting 
the crutches rest against the mast, and fastening the sail 
to them, supporting the end of the gaff by attaching it to 
the top of the mast by a piece of coarse thread or fine 
string. Then I should put the mast into the seat, tie a 
piece of string to the end of the boom, and fasten it (the 
right distance to catch the wind properly) to a bent pin, 
or small tack, near the stern of the boat. Now she is 
ready to be launched. Oh no 1 we must nail a narrow 
strip of lead under her keel for ballast, and be very sure 
we get it in the middle. There ; that’s the best I can do; 
and if I wanted to make a more extensive sail-boat, such 
as the boys have for racing in the park-ponds, I should 
go and look at a good sail-boat, and take the pattern. 
Now about the hooks for trout. I should say that the 
size of the hook would depend a good deal upon the size 
of the fish you expect to catch. I have generally used 
Fig. 3.—THE BOAT WITH SEATS. 
pretty small hooks, and baited with angle-worms, gone 
out and gota pretty goodmessof trout, while the scientific 
fishermen were hanging round the house getting their 
“ flies ” in order; and I have discovered that the chief 
secret of success is to keep out of sight of the trout; 
don’t let them get a peep at you if you can help it; creep 
along behind the bushes, or stand off at a distance from 
the edge of the brook, and throw your line in. I have 
fished for trout from a canoe in the Sault Ste. Marie ; an 
Indian sat in either end of the boat, a gentleman and my¬ 
self in the center. The trout we caught weighed from 
half a pound to a pound and a half each. I don’t know 
what language the Indians spoke together, it might have 
been Indian-rubber for anything I knew about it; but I 
noticed that whenever I pulled in a fish they had some¬ 
thing to say about tiie “squaw,” and I came to the con¬ 
clusion that I was that “ squaw /” They had paddled us 
up the smaller rapid (in which we fished), after rowing 
us across the foot of the broad rapid, which is about a 
mile long, and has a descent of 22 feet. When we reach¬ 
ed the top of the rapid, where the river was smooth, we 
pointed over to the shore, to signify to the Indians that 
we wanted to go home. They said something like 
“Tuggus kewatawageezeegoquawnttamipocomataquaho- 
ko, or words to that effect, which we supposed meant— 
“ Do you want us to row you across here, instead of tak¬ 
ing you back by way of the small rapid?” and we nod¬ 
ded assent; when straightway they turned the bow of 
their canoe into the wide, foaming, roaring, plunging 
rapid—rocks on every side. I thought my time had 
come 1 But by a dexterous use of their paddles they 
guided us past the rocks, turning sharp angles like a 
flash, when often it seemed as though the canoe was go¬ 
ing to dash her bow upon a huge rock. Oh 1 wasn’t I 
glad to get into smooth water, safely 1 They told us, at 
the hotel, that no boat had ever gone down those rapids 
in safety, and that only canoes, managed very skillfully 
by Indians, could accomplish the feat. I don’t want to 
try it again 1 
Tiie Slfcoctoa-’s TsilSis—Cesaiesic* 
saiisil Msittcrs. 
In this Centennial July, what should I talk about if not 
the Centennial ? I do not mean the great exhibition at 
Philadelphia, for the number of our boys and girls that 
can attend that is very small. That exhibition is only 
one of the ways of celebrating the Centennial Year. You 
must not think that only those who can reach Philadel¬ 
phia, and the show there—great as it is—are the only 
ones who are interested in marking this year as one that 
is more than all other years that we are likely to see, for 
this Centennial Year interests every one now living ia 
America, whether born here, or coming from other coun¬ 
tries, have made this their home. If I had all you boys 
and girls around me, (bless me what a lot there would be 1) 
on the Fourth of this month, I think I should do, what 
I never did before, make a Fourth of July speech, or at 
any rate, a talk—though it is more likely that I should at 
once begin to ask questions to make you talk. As we 
cannot all be together, wo must make our talk on paper, 
and the first thing that I would ask is, why do we call 
this the Centennial Year, and the 4th day of the mouth 
the Centennial Fourth of July? Some boy or girl will 
answer, “ Because it is a hundred years since the first 
Fourth of July.”—“ When was the first Fourth of July?” 
“ In 1176.”—“ But there were Julys before that, and each 
month had a fourth day, what v'as there about that par¬ 
ticular fourth ? ’’—There would then come from all quar¬ 
ters, “ The Declaration of Independence.”—" What was 
that?”—Then I am afraid that the answers would not 
be so prompt. How many of you young people—yes, 
and old people too—have read that paper, the adoption of 
which on the Fourth of July, 1776, made that day one to 
be remembered each year, and especially so on the hun¬ 
dredth year ? 
I think the best thing that all of you, girls and boys, 
who are old enough to read and to understand what you 
read, can do on the fourth of this month, is to read over 
this Declaration and try to understand it. Before that 
time this country having been largely settled by English 
people, was governed by England. The laws were made 
in England, and English governors and other officers 
were sent to enforce them. It happened that at that 
time the English king and his advisers were very differ¬ 
ent from the excellent woman who is now Queen, and 
the men who now are her ministers. They did not care 
to please the people in America, and they made very bad 
laws. After sending men over to England to ask for 
better laws and better governors, and getting no change, 
the Americans on that Fourth of July, 1776, said that 
they would make their own laws and would govern them¬ 
selves without any help from England. The “ Declara¬ 
tion of Independence ” gives the reasons for doing this, 
in the strongest and most beautiful language. That 
memorable piece of parchment was signed on the Fourth 
of July, 1776, and the very same piece is carefully kept. 
It is usually kept in Washington, but during the Phila¬ 
delphia Exhibition it is to be in that city, and may be 
seen in Independence Hall, the very room in which it was 
signed 100 years ago. I have seen it several times ; you 
might pass it by as of not much value, for time has had 
its effect, and many of the names are so faded that they 
can scarcely be read. As we look at it now we can hardly 
know what a struggle it cost the signers to separate 
themselves from the mother country, nor had they any 
idea of what would follow that act. One hundred years 
ago there were only 13 States, with a little over three 
millions of people, and now there are 49 States and Ter¬ 
ritories with over forty millions. When you read the 
Declaration you will think of these things, and have a 
great respect for the men who on that day declared the 
right of the people to govern themselves. But the Dec- 
