A few thoughts now about the life-history of the frog. From egg to egg is the story. In roundish masses, upon sticks lying in water, or upon the leaves and stems of submerged water-plants, are the eggs deposited. The creature that comes from the egg is no more like a frog than a caterpillar is like a butterfly. It has a large head, small tail, branched gills, and is devoid of limbs, resembling, in this stage, more a fish than a frog. This is its early childhood, or tadpole state. It can only live in water now, and swims and feeds from the very moment it leaves the egg. Change in form almost immediately begins, the branched gills being drawn within the neck and hidden, a pair of fore-legs beginning to bud, and subsequently a pair of hind-legs, which push out much faster than the fore-legs. As the legs grow, the tail is gradually absorbed and disappears. The interior of the body meanwhile changes, the lungs and heart becoming reptilian. When the gills and tail are gone, and the legs are fully formed, the once-swimming tadpole hops out of the water a perfectly-formed frog. When first the tadpole emerged from the egg, it ate the jelly-like cover. Then soft animal and vegetable matters, with the strengthening of its pair of horny jaws, began to be devoured. Insects later on, and even its own kith and kin, became its food. The fare of the adult frog is almost exclusively insect in character, although necessity sometimes drives him to make a meal out of some of his weaker brethren. Seated in cool, leafy shadows, not far from his favorite stream or pool, the frog watches with his great, black, gold-ringed eyes for such insects as good fortune shall bring to his retreat. As one hovers near, out flies his limber, sticky, ribbon-like tongue, true to its mark, and the hapless insect, adhering to the viscid projected ribbon, is gently and cleverly deposited in the open throat, the frog maintaining all the while an air of calm, superior self-satisfaction, as if he had not so much satisfied an appetite as fulfilled the mission of ridding nature of a superfluous insect. A most harmless, timid and interesting animal is the frog, and often most unfortunate. He is the legitimate mark for all the missiles that can be thrown at him by urchins wandering about his native pool. Snakes make him their prey, and he is always in mental fear lest some insidious serpent shall take him unawares, or his musings shall be suddenly cut short by the stately progress of some swan or goose, sailing over the limpid water, or searching the green herbage wherein he sits concealed. [Illustration: RANA CLAMATA, OR GREEN FROG. Lusty Croaker of the Summer Pond.]