Dead as the missile that was thrown,
The frog came up again.
Along the river’s ferny banks
The frogs still chant their lays
While floating on his native pool
That stone-killed frog decays.
ALL FOOLS’ DAY.
This is “all fools’ day,” and judging by the number of people who are passing along the sidewalk with strings and rags dangling from their coat tails, the custom of making people appear ridiculous is not obsolete. What delight the youngsters take in covering a few bricks with an old hat, and leaving it temptingly upon the sidewalk, while they withdraw into some nook to watch the bait and halloo at the person who is thoughtless enough to kick it.