" And forthwith, with a rush, and a splash, and a dash, they raise a
chorus of whirring, grating, growling, grunting, whistling sounds, which
make you stop up your ears. When all this hubbub has lasted some minutes,
there is a pop and a splash, and down go all the heads under the weeds and
mud; and after another pause, up comes the aged father of the frogs, and
begins again with the old story, "Go to bed, go to bed, go to bed," and so
on. During the heat of the day the bull-frogs are silent; but as the day
declines and the air becomes cooler, they recommence their noisy chorus.
I suppose these sounds, though not very pleasant to the ears of men, may
not be so disagreeable to those of wild animals. I daresay neither Nimble
nor Silvy were in the least annoyed by the hoarse note of the bull-frog,
but gambolled as merrily among the boughs and fresh dewy leaves as if they
were listening to sweet music or the songs of the birds.
The summer passed away very happily; but towards the close of the warm
season the squirrels, Nimble and Silvy, resolved to make a journey to the
rocky island on Stony Lake, to see the old squirrels, their father and
mother. So they started at sunrise one fine pleasant day, and travelled
along; till one cool evening, just as the moon was beginning to rise above
the pine-trees, they arrived at the little rocky islet where they first
saw the light.
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