WHAT ONE POOR LITTLE FROG FOUND OUT.

A very young frog—very young indeed, scarcely out of tails (that is to say, out of tadpolehood)—with a very great ambition and ordinary ability, set out one morning with the purpose of seeing the world, and by night-fall bringing back something to astonish the pool. "For," said he to himself, "I am such a close observer, that I shall be sure to observe and bring back correct reports of many strange things passed by in stupid indifference by these commonplace old speckle-backs, who, no doubt, neglect daily golden opportunities for storing their minds with useful information, but who see nothing and know nothing but worms, ants, beetles, and other insects and small animals to put in their ample stomachs."

So saying, he leaped away gayly, but with eyes open and on the sharp look-out, almost at the very start. "For," said he, "the most common things possess a new interest when shown in a new light by the hand of genius, and the ordinary things of one locality become objects of curiosity in another where they are not found. Thus I could astonish vain man, could I speak his jargon, with accounts of many things familiar to my sight by daily contact in the bottom of the pool, but which seldom or never meet his eyes."

So he journeyed on, well pleased with himself and what he thought his life's mission, carefully eying every object in his way, lest some one of interest should escape his notice. At length a great thistle came within his gaze. "There," said he, "is something worth investigating." After looking at it attentively at a little distance, that he might fix all its points in his mind, he approached for a closer study. Said he, "I must not forget to ascertain if this strange plant—for plant it undoubtedly is—has any peculiar odor; for that is very important." Thus saying, he thrust his inquisitive nose against the prickers, which brought him to the conclusion that he had carried the investigation quite far enough; and storing this experience away in his memory for future use, he went on his way, a little wiser, but no happier, for it does not add to happiness to have our conceit pricked out, as it were, by sharp experience.

Now a half-brick partly buried in the mud caught his curious eye. "That's a singular rock," said he. "What a remarkable color it has! so regular, too, in its form; it has also a peculiar texture"—as he put his hand-like forepaw upon it.

Just at this moment he thought he heard something behind him, and turning to see what, his terrified eye caught the dread form of an idle, barefooted boy, also in search of adventure, though not for the instruction of others, or even himself, as was the little frog's grand motive, but merely for the amusement of the moment.

Young as his frogship was, he knew well enough what boys were, and made off for his life with all possible speed.

It would, perhaps, have been wiser if he had remained perfectly quiet, as in all probability the careless boy would not have observed him; but as the boy seemed bearing right down upon him, the sight was too dreadful for his nerves, and he sprang forward with desperate leaps, which, of course, attracted the urchin's attention, and with a shout of delight he bounded off in pursuit. Hastily clutching the "curious rock"—half-brick—he aimed to give the frog's head an external application of this object of interest, and, I must say, with almost fatal precision. With great nicety of calculation, he threw the brick where he felt the frog would be when the brick got there. His estimate was uncomfortably close, the little frog thought, as the brick just grazed his protruding eye. He winked, dodged back, and started in another direction with wild leaps.

As the boy went for the rolling brick for another throw the frog hid himself in a tuft of clover, and though terribly nervous when the urchin came very near his hiding-place—at length actually kicked the bunch of clover in his search for him—he summoned all his fortitude, and remained perfectly quiet, knowing that to be his only safety.

Soon, to his unspeakable relief, the cruel boy gave it up, and went whistling on his careless way in search of other adventures.

The thoroughly frightened frog prudently waited, nor ventured out until the boy had quite vanished in the distance. While he still lay in his hiding-place a curious creature wriggled past, in beautiful sheeny coat that glistened in the sunlight, and quite delighted him. He made no motion, however, though he did not much fear this harmless-looking creature; still, as the supple thing constantly darted out a double tongue, he felt it more prudent to observe in silence.

When this creature had also gone quite out of sight, he again moved on his journey, it must be confessed, with less self-confidence and more caution.

But a little while of safe travelling was, however, enough to cause the two sentiments to change places again—prudence lessened, and confidence grew: and this would have cost him his life had it not been his good fortune to be on the land side of a beautiful white crane, which he very much admired, as he stood fixedly gazing into the waters of a sluggish stream. He hopped very near, in his ignorant delight, wondering what the magnificent creature was, and what could be his reflections as he fixed his gaze so intently in the amber water. "Something grand, no doubt!" He did not feel called upon to address him, however, which was lucky again, since this "splendid bird" was looking for just such fellows as he, but never suspected one of being so near him in the field.

At length our leaping student of nature tired even of his admiration of this beautiful bird, and leaped on his journey again in search of other objects of scientific interest, one of which he soon found in the person of another curious bird, also with long legs, and not very unlike in form the one he had just seen, though not near so beautiful.

His general color was a dull brown, varied and mottled with several shades of the same, from light yellowish to dark spots, and in parts, such as the crest, back of the neck, etc., deepening to a jetty black. His neck, though, did not appear long, like that of the white bird, but his head seemed as near the body as a chicken's; when some noise or motion in the water, however, attracted his attention, it shot out like a telescope, as long in proportion as the other's, though the comparison of the telescope was not froggie's. He knew nothing of such a thing; the figure suggested to his mind was a snail's eye.

He also bestowed some admiration upon this fellow, and passed on, still unconscious that he was in dangerous proximity to a mortal foe.

Now as he ascended quite a little hillock, high enough for him to overlook the fields, he was surprised to see that the very stream upon the margin of which the two strange birds had stood was the one near which was his native pool; in fact, upon this stream the inhabitants of his pond depended for fresh supplies of water to replenish the waste by evaporation, when it occasionally overflowed its banks in times of freshets.

He knew the locality by a great rock, which he knew to be near his pond, and found, too, with some satisfaction, that he was much nearer home than he would have thought from the distance travelled. He had taken a circuitous route, as did the stream, before reaching the great rock. Using this stone as a landmark, he saw that a straight line to it would be comparatively a short-cut back again.

This discovery was not unpleasant either, for not only his journey, but his researches as well, began to grow wearisome. Now as he remembered the events of the day, his adventures, and the strange sights he had seen, and the discoveries he had made, his heart swelled with pride when he thought what astonishment it would create when he brought them all back, as it were, to the banks of the pool.

Settling this comfortably in his mind, he glanced about again, as a traveller takes a farewell look at a strange land he is about leaving. But now he made the additional discovery that a grove just before him was the "forest," as he believed it, he had seen many times in the distance while sitting on the banks of the pool.

Gazing into its dark recesses, he became suddenly aware of two great yellow-rimmed eyes peering out of its sombre depths. Cold chills ran over him. His thirst for knowledge, which his mother, in her croaking way, called idle curiosity, got the better of his fears, however, as he became satisfied that he himself was not the object of those eyes' attention, if indeed anything in particular was, and he began again his usual wise speculations. "What an eye!" said he. "I remember once, while lying at the bottom of the pool, to have seen the full moon rising, while a round leaf upon the brink intervening, darkened the centre, leaving a yellowish rim; that eye reminds me of it. To whom or what can it belong, I wonder? Let me see: surrounded by feathers?—yes, feathers! Well, feathers are only worn by birds, therefore the owner of that eye must be a bird, that's clear; and that's pretty good logic, too, I flatter myself."

He was right; the owner of the eye was a bird—an owl; and scarcely had he "flattered" himself, when he became conscious that now he was the object of attention by those terrible eyes. Losing no time, he turned toward the rock, made several desperate leaps in quick succession before he felt the shadow of the great wings, though he heard no sound, for the flight of owls is as noiseless almost as that of thistle-down.

Fortunately, again (he was a lucky frog), it was a sunny afternoon, and the light rather strong for the owls' eyes (by this time another had joined her mate); so, dodging here and there, he managed to elude them, always making toward home, however, followed blindly by the owls. Nor was this all: the tall birds, attracted by the commotion, seeing him dodging through the grass, joined in the pursuit. The snake he had seen also made bold to follow with wide-open jaws to devour him, and creatures of every kind—ducks, more cranes, even a pelican—came from all quarters, and pursued him to the very brink of the pool.

So numerous were they, indeed, that they obstructed each other's way. Meantime the little frog was making the best use of the time, lessening the distance at every bound. But even a race for life must have an end, either in disaster to the pursued or disappointment to the pursuers, and just at the moment when the wide-open beak of the admired white crane was about to close upon him, with all the other eager open jaws close following, our adventurous student splashed into the waters of the pond.

As he settled, exhausted, in the soft mud at the bottom of the pond, stirring up a cloud, as it were, his little brothers and sisters, still in the polliwig state, wriggled around him with anxious inquiry, and staid old croakers, in coats of green and brown, and mottled trousers, looked with amazement from him to the bank, where still lingered the excited throng of his hungry pursuers.

Not a word to the many questions asked could he reply, but stared out from his muddy security in dazed speechlessness upon the horrid throng of snapping beaks and jaws he had just escaped. He experienced a feeling of pleasure upon seeing a disappointed owl pick up a disappointed snake, and wing his noiseless way back toward the copse, followed by his mate. Then the disappointed crane fastened upon another snake, and arose like a white cloud, with his squirming victim in his strong beak. After considerable quacking, snapping, and hissing, one after another of his ferocious foes rose upon the wing, and went his way; the bank was cleared, peace and quiet reigned again.

Our traveller was again asked for an account of his adventures. When he came to speak of the "strange plant," a laugh from under the yellow vest of "Old Spots" greeted his ear. And "Old Spots" (they called him "Spots" on account of his strongly mottled green coat) curtly observed that a little sharp experience seemed to simplify matters much, and a prick in the nose to help an inquiring mind to a speedy conclusion. "But," said he, more seriously, "a closer scrutiny would hardly have failed to reveal to the eye so important a feature as prickers on a thistle, without the necessity of thrusting them into one's very nose."

The story of the boy and the brick was allowed to pass without remark from the older inhabitants of the pool, probably because the little frog, in this instance, had managed the case as well as any one could have done.

When he spoke of the tall bird in plumage of shining white, the comment was, "The white crane! one of the deadliest foes of our race!" The brown bird, he was informed, was the bittern, commonly called "stake-driver," "fly-up-the-creek," etc., also a mortal foe.

When he made rather careless mention of the glistening snake, the old frogs shuddered as they informed him that of all their enemies this was most to be dreaded, because of its stealthy way of creeping upon its victim unawares through the grass, fastening its fangs upon him, and sometimes taking hours to swallow its prey, which all the while remained alive, in painful and agonized certainty of his slow-approaching death.

The owls, they said, were less to be dreaded than any of his pursuers; they were not particularly fond of frogs, would as soon have a snake, and much preferred mice.

In short, every bird, reptile, and object of peculiar interest, as well as localities, with all their characteristics, seemed so familiar to these recently despised "old croakers," that the little frog hardly knew whether to be most astonished or humiliated at the discovery of this unboasted knowledge in the possession of his elders, and could but admit to himself that it was the only discovery of any importance he had made through the day, since all the others, it seemed, were no discoveries at all.