easily penetrate to the bottom and hatch them. The little fish, still guarded by one hovering parent, swam around in the water long before the yolk of the egg, containing its large amount of food, had been absorbed into the tissues of the young fish. This fatty store made the abdomen of the fish in which it lay protrude enormously. Gradually the fish grew larger and the yolk grew smaller until all had been consumed. Soon the fish began to forage for himself and no longer to demand or care for the company and protection of its parent. The little sunfish is highly favored among his comrades in having any care whatever by the parent. In the case of most fishes the female, swimming slowly over the bottom, deposits her eggs, which are fertilized by the male, which follows behind her. After the eggs have thus been laid and quickened no other attention is paid to them by either of the parents. Fish are stupid almost beyond the comprehension of those who are not students of the minds of animals. Frogs and toads are a distinct step in advance, and hence their mental activities play a larger part in the process. In the love-making of the frogs and toads the song has an important share. In each species the voice is a little different from that of any other. In our familiar garden toad we have an excellent illustration of the method common to the entire group. When spring comes an impulse seems to stir in all the toads of a neighborhood. Heretofore they have stuck faithfully to dry ground; now they start off for the water. Whether their impulse is simply to move down hill or whether they by some means detect the near presence of water, I cannot say. Certainly a new fountain on a lawn will secure in spring its prompt and full share of the neighborhood's toads. In any event the toads of a district congregate in great numbers in any pond or along the edge of any moderate stream. Within a short time their flutelike, quivering voice is heard far and wide. That this note has an attractive power over the female there is no doubt. She herself makes no effort to imitate, but the song of her mate is persistent and exceedingly sweet. I have seen a male sit upon a clump of grass and utter his love call. Before he had been singing for more than half a minute three females hastened toward him from a distance of perhaps twenty feet. Each seemed anxious to reach as promptly as possible the creature whose voice had proved so attractive. When the mating comes, the female discharges a series of small shotlike eggs which are encased in a very tenacious mucous. While they are being deposited the male fertilizes them. No sooner have the eggs, fertilized by the sperm cells, reached the water than the mucous at once begins to swell. The result is that eggs appear encased in two slender strings of jelly, each having a diameter about that of a lead pencil. At intervals of not more than half an inch the shotlike eggs may be seen. The mother