Whadda you say, boys?" "Shore," chorussed the "boys," and hiccuped like so many bullfrogs.

She got up of her own accord and performed the gestures to "The Lone Fish Ball" better even than Mary Sylvester had done them, and on the spur of the moment she worked out another set to accompany "The Bulldog and the Bullfrog" that brought down the house.

It sounded more like a chorus of bullfrogs than of young men, but it was gladsome enough to atone for its lack of music, and it was loud enough to convince History that it was safe to come out, of the bushes where he had been crouching in ghostly terror.

The tree-toads soon join them; but one listens in vain for bullfrogs, or katydids, or grasshoppers, or whippoorwills, or crickets: we must wait for them until the delicious June.

" A duck, a bullfrog and a skunk went to a circus, the duck and the bullfrog got in, why didn't the skunk get in? (Answer).

" A duck, a bullfrog and a skunk went to a circus, the duck and the bullfrog got in, why didn't the skunk get in? (Answer).

The duck had a bill, the bullfrog had a greenback but the skunk had nothing but a scent.

J.C.L. CONTENTS PREFACE LIST OF DRAWINGS THE COD-FISHER THE SONG OF THE SEA THE WIND'S SONG THE LIFE-SAVER "THE EVENIN' HYMN" THE MEADOW ROAD THE BULLFROG SERENADE SUNDAY AFTERNOONS

" THE BULLFROG SERENADE, "With the big green-coated leader's double-bass.

[Illustration] THE BULLFROG SERENADE When the toil of day is over

And the dew is on the clover, And the night-hawk whirls in circles overhead; When the cow-bells melt and mingle In a softened, silver jingle, And the old hen calls the chickens in to bed; When the marshy meadows glimmer With a misty, purple shimmer, And the twilight flush is changing into shade; When the firefly lamps are burning And the dusk to dark is turning, Then the bullfrogs chant their evening serenade:

All the lilies are a-quiver, And the grasses by the river Feel the mighty chorus shaking every blade, While the dewy rushes glisten As they bend their heads to listen To the bullfrogs' summer evening serenade: "Deep-deep, deep-deep, deep-deep, deep-deep!

Just the curtains rustlin' on the window-sill, And the wind a-blowin', warm and wet and sweet Smellin' like the meadows or the fields of wheat; Just the bullfrogs pipin' in amongst the grass, Where the water's shinin' like a lookin'-glass; Just a dog a-barkin' somewheres up along, So far off his yelpin' 's like a kind of song.

"He looked all roun', but he couldn' see nobody but a big bullfrog settin' on a log on de yuther side er de crick.

A huge tree-toad, the size of a bullfrog, was seated uprightnot squatted flaton a big rotten limb.

KANE, HENRY B. The tale of the bullfrog.

Tim Tadpole and the great bullfrog.

BENET, MARJORIE FLACK. Tim Tadpole and the great bullfrog, by Marjorie Flack.

KANE, HENRY B. The tale of the bullfrog.

The Bullfrog and the Crab CXIX.

The Bullfrog and the Crab.

A weak-kneed, chicken-livered, white-bellied old bullfrog that squeaks and jumps, plunk!

And so he waddled to the shore, And thus address'd his friends The bullfrogs and the snappers bold, About their latter ends.

Bullfrogs pipe, running the whole gamut of tones from treble to bass, hidden away amid the water grasses.

Why say pardner, there's bullfrogs in this yere town over five years old that hain't learned to swim yet!"