h?"

"To the lakes, of course; there are no fish in the ponds."

"Exactly," said Mr. Slick, "that is what I want to bring you to; there
is no fish in a pond, there is nothin' but frogs. Nova Scotia is only
a pond, and so is New Brunswick, and such outlandish, out o' the way,
little crampt up, stagnant places. There is no 'big fish' there, nor
never can be; there ain't no food for 'em. A colony frog!! Heavens and
airth, what an odd fish that is? A colony pollywog! do, for gracious
sake, catch one, put him into a glass bottle full of spirits, and send
him to the Museum as a curiosity in natur. So you are a goin' to make
your two nice pretty little smart boys a pair of colony frogs, eh? Oh!
do, by all means.

"You'll have great comfort in 'em, Squire. Monstrous comfort. It will
do your old heart good to go down to the edge of the pond on the fust of
May, or thereabouts, accordin' to the season, jist at sun down, and hear
'em sing. You'll see the little fellers swell out their cheeks, and roar
away like young suckin' thunders. For the frogs beat all natur there for
noise; they have no notion of it here at all. I've seed Englishmen that
couldn't sleep all night, for the everlastin' noise these critters made.
Their frogs have somethin' else to do here besides singin'. Ain't it a
splendid prospect that, havin' these young frogs settled all round you
in the same mud-hole, all gathered in a nice little musical family
party. All fine fun this, till some fine day we Yankee storks will come
down and gobble them all up, and make clear work of it.

"No, Squire, take my advice now for once; jist go to your colony
minister when he is alone. Don't set down, but stand up as if you was in
airnest, and didn't come to gossip, and tell him, 'Turn these ponds into
a lake,' sais you, my lord minister, give them an inlet and an outlet.
Let them be kept pure, and sweet, and wholesome, by a stream, runnin'
through. Fish will live there then if you put them in, and they will
breed there, and keep up the stock. At present they die; it ain't big
enough; there ain't room. If he sais he hante time to hear you, and asks
you to put it into writin', do you jist walk over to his table, take up
his lignum vitae ruler into your fist, put your back to the door, and
say 'By the 'tarnal empire, you _shall_ hear me; you don't go out of
this, till I give you the butt eend of my mind, I can tell you. I am an
old bull frog now; the Nova Scotia pond is big enoug