“‘I met Mr. Cricket, but he seemed very lean and unsatisfying, so I passed him up,’ replied Speckles.
“‘Oh, did you? Or did he hop up himself?’ tittered Spot.
“‘Isn’t it all the same, my dear? I did not eat him!’
“Spot gave a sleepy look at her spouse but said nothing.
“‘I have been thinking, my dear wife, that perhaps some of our friends may hold a musicale at the frog-pond tonight—shall we hop down and see? We may find some juicy bugs on the way, too.’
“‘Yes, let us be off! I must find a home for the children as soon as possible, too, and perhaps the tepid water of the mud-hole will be just right for the eggs.’
“So the pair hopped away from the trees and were soon at a small spot beside the creek, where the water had made a tiny bay in the bank. On the way they found a spider and a few thin ants, but what was such a tiny mouthful to such hungry toads?
“On the muddy brink of the small inlet, Spot sat and wondered! Here she had laid a number of tiny eggs the spring before, and these had hatched out into fine, fat little tadpoles. How well she remembered the day the tads turned into tiny toads with wide gaps for mouths and bright button eyes like her own, and had hopped out of the water to prance about and play with each other!
“Where now were all those dear children? Would any of them remember the old home-spot and return to bring their grand-children, and gladden the old frogs?
“‘Oh, well,’ sighed Spot, ‘It is the way of all human nature! Once the child is grown it throws off all restraint and protecting care of parents and plunges headlong into life!’