Vol. XXV —No. 5 
May, 1914 
ur 
Friendly Frods 
and 
THE FASCINATING LIFE 
HISTORY OF OUR OBSCURE 
GARDEN DWELLERS— 
HOW TOADS AND FROGS FIGHT 
INSECT PESTS—SOME INTER¬ 
ESTING FACTS REGARDING 
THEIR HABITS 
A S a rule we pay little attention to the frogs and toads. To 
many of us these are represented by two distinct kinds — 
“hop toads” and “bull frogs.” Yet these animals form an im¬ 
portant branch in Nature’s big family, as there are over twelve 
hundred different kinds or species. And this aggregation ranges 
in size from mites that cling to blades of grass to monsters with 
gaping mouths that can engulf a full-grown rat. Their colors 
include every hue of the rainbow, and if an artist were to truth¬ 
fully portray some of the tropical kinds in colors the results might 
be branded as more improbable than the visions of a nightmare. 
We think only of plain hop toads, and of the water frogs whose 
legs are rated as a table delicacy, yet the arrival of the first sweet 
breaths of spring is an event sung to us busy mortals by the toads. 
We may not have justly thought of this before. But the elation 
would be lessened with the first scent of the warming ground, if 
the cheery, piping chorus from the marshes were lacking. More¬ 
over, the song comes from tiny creatures that not one in a thou¬ 
sand of us has seen. They represent a legion of remarkably in¬ 
teresting creatures with strange life histories, and all of them of 
tremendous value to humanity. 
Suppose we follow the seasons, and in that way get acquainted 
with our toads and frogs. After the winds of early March comes 
a day that is a real event. We feel electrified with the soft air 
and nature’s sleeping family begins to stir. A warm, sweet night, 
and another of these wonderful days is ushered in. With it 
comes the chorus from the marshes. There is a ring of positive 
joy in those shrill, piping notes. We go to the edge of a pool 
from which protrude the dead stalks of last summer’s reeds. 
The chorus lessens as we approach the water, until a solitary 
“peep” here and there gives way to silence. The observer must 
stand quite still for two or three minutes, and the solitary, piping 
notes begin once more, timidly at first, then grow in volume and 
number until the pool resounds with them. Yet no sign of life 
is to be seen; and strange it is, for one of the songsters is im¬ 
mediately in front of the observer—not two steps away. How 
many of us have been mystified by this spring call that carries 
a good part of a mile! Our thought is naturally that it comes 
from some big frog or toad-like creature that could easily be seen. 
Quite different is the truth. The creature of the penetrating call 
is the pygmy among toads. It could comfortably roost upon 
a dime. The reason you fail to see him comes from his wise 
habit of ducking to the side of the reed away from you, like a 
squirrel on a tree trunk. We say he, because only the males 
among frogs or toads do the singing; and while it may seem strange 
for a toad to be perching on a vertical stem, this eccentricity is 
explained by bis structure, for he 
is a tree toad belonging to the 
genus Hyla, and popularly called 
Pickering’s Tree Toad, in honor 
of a famous naturalist. His status 
may not be altogether clear, as the 
question naturally arises as to the 
right of a tree toad haunting the 
reeds of a pool. That is the breed¬ 
ing place, and toads and frogs 
breed only in the spring. Linked 
(359) 
