Lesson XLVII

The Frog

Leading thought—The frog lives near or in ponds or streams. It is a powerful jumper and has a slippery body. Its eggs are laid in masses of jelly at the bottom of ponds.

Method—The frog may be studied in its native situation by the pupils or it may be brought to the school and placed in an aquarium; however, to make a frog aquarium there needs to be a stick or stone projecting above the water, for the frog likes to spend part of the time entirely out of water or only partially submerged.

Observations—1. Where is the frog found? Does it live all its life in the water? When found on land how and where does it seek to escape?

2. Compare the form of the frog with that of the toad. Describe the skin, its color and texture. Compare the skin of the two.

3. Describe the colors and markings of the frog on the upper and on the under side. How do these protect it from observation from above? From below? How do we usually discover that we are in the vicinity of a frog?

4. Describe the frog’s ears, eyes, nostrils and mouth.

5. Compare its “hands and feet” with those of the toad. Why the difference in the hind legs and feet?

6. How does the frog feel to your hand? Is it easy to hold him? How does this slipperiness of the frog benefit it?

7. On what does the frog feed? What feeds on it? How does it escape its enemies?

8. What sounds does the frog make? Where are its sound sacs located? How do they look when they are inflated?

9. Is the frog a good swimmer? Is it a better jumper than the toad? Why?

10. Where are the frog’s eggs laid? How do they look?

11. Can you tell the frog tadpoles from those of the toad? Which remains longer in the tadpole stage? Study the frog tadpoles, following the questions given in Lesson XLIV.

12. What happens to the frog in winter?

FESTINA LENTE

Once on a time there was a pool
Fringed all about with flag-leaves cool
And spotted with cow-lilies garish,
Of frogs and pouts the ancient parish.
Alders the creaking redwings sink on,
Tussocks that house blithe Bob o’ Lincoln,
Hedged round the unassailed seclusion,
Where muskrats piled their cells Carthusian;
And many a moss-embroidered log,
The watering-place of summer frog,
Slept and decayed with patient skill,
As watering-places sometimes will.
Now in this Abbey of Theleme,
Which realized the fairest dream
That ever dozing bull-frog had,
Sunned, on a half-sunk lily pad,
There rose a party with a mission
To mend the polliwog’s condition,
Who notified the selectmen
To call a meeting there and then.
“Some kind of steps,” they said, “are needed;
They don’t come on so fast as we did:
Let’s dock their tails; if that don’t make ’em
Frogs by brevet, the Old One take ’em!
That boy, that came the other day
To dig some flag-root down this way,
His jack-knife left, and ’tis a sign
That Heaven approves of our design:
’Twere wicked not to urge the step on,
When Providence has sent the weapon.”
Old croakers, deacons of the mire,
That led the deep batrachian choir,
“Uk! Uk! Caronk!” with bass that might
Have left Lablache’s out of sight,
Shook nobby heads, and said “No, go!
You’d better let ’em try to grow:
Old Doctor Time is slow, but still
He does know how to make a pill.”
But vain was all their hoarsest bass,
Their old experience out of place,
And spite of croaking and entreating
The vote was carried in marsh-meeting.
“Lord knows,” protest the polliwogs,
“We’re anxious to be grown-up frogs;
But don’t push in to do the work
Of Nature till she prove a shirk;
’Tis not by jumps that she advances,
But wins her way by circumstances;
Pray, wait awhile, until you know
We’re so contrived as not to grow;
Let Nature take her own direction,
And she’ll absorb our imperfection;
You mightn’t like ’em to appear with,
But we must have the things to steer with.”
“No,” piped the party of reform,
“All great results are ta’en by storm;
Fate holds her best gifts till we show
We’ve strength to make her let them go;
The Providence that works in history,
And seems to some folks such a mystery,
Does not creep slowly on, incog.,
But moves by jumps, a mighty frog;
No more reject the Age’s chrism,
Your queues are an anachronism;
No more the future’s promise mock,
But lay your tails upon the block,
Thankful that we the means have voted
To have you thus to frogs promoted.”
The thing was done, the tails were cropped,
And home each philotadpole hopped,
In faith rewarded to exult,
And wait the beautiful result.
Too soon it came; our pool, so long
The theme of patriot bull-frog’s song,
Next day was reeking, fit to smother,
With heads and tails that missed each other,⁠⁠—
Here snoutless tails, there tailless snouts;
The only gainers were the pouts.

MORAL

From lower to the higher next,
Not to the top is Nature’s text;
And embryo Good, to reach full stature,
Absorbs the Evil in its nature.

—Lowell.