I had reached that period of development when, rejoicing in the strength of youth and the full maturity of my faculties, I leaped from place to place, not without aim, as many might suppose, but in the pursuit of knowledge, frolic, or recreation. The sun shone brightly, grass and flowers were in full bloom around, breathing an intoxicating perfume into the midday air, when I first beheld the object of my dreams. My enemies may think me a plagiarist, and that I have lifted my sentiment from some modern novel. All I can say is that my book is nature, which I recommend to the study of writers of fiction, many of whose works would poison the morals of toads, for these prefer unadorned truth to the gaudy tinsel of the literary showman. My love was bewitching in her dress of pale green. Oh how fondly I followed her with my eyes as she leaped from leaf to leaf, until at last I beheld her against the sky, her silken wings spread out to their fullest, descending lightly on to a blade of grass, which bending, swayed to and fro in the breeze! Flying in the air, toying with the flowers, making them quiver on their stems without soiling a single petal, skimming the placid water, admiring her own image on the wing, this fair creature won my heart. Vainly I strove to court her glance, forgetful that a vile toad in love is no more pleasing to the eye than a toad in grief or any other mood. At last she turned towards me, and in that weak moment I tried to smile, thinking I should look less repulsive. Alas! I discovered that my capacious mouth, bloated-looking eyes, and unyielding physiognomy, were powerless to respond to the sentiment of my heart. Besides, my pretty grasshopper failed to see me, or mistook my form for a clod of earth. Soon a deep shadow fell across me, and turning, I perceived a chubby boy advancing slowly, cautiously, armed with a huge net at the end of a long stick. I had already frequently observed him trying to catch butterflies and winged insects. When one of these poor, pretty, perfect little things escaped him, he lost his temper with his coveted prize, and savagely continued pursuit, crushing the first victim that fell to his net. I said to myself, “This is horrible! To this boy it appears a crime for an insect to strive to escape death. What have they done to warrant such a fate? They have not even the misfortune to be ugly.” This cruelty had such an effect on me, that one night I dreamed I saw large toads become light and mobile, catching men-children in their nets, and pinning them to the trunks of trees. I accepted the dream as a bad omen, and rightly, for not long after I descried the child coming {85} towards the grasshopper, and divined that he was bent on capturing my lady-love. Not a moment was to be lost. I saw the danger, calculated my distance, and leaped just to the spot where the boy’s foot fell; he slipped on my back and rolled to the ground.