uring, say a fly, the frog creeps as near his prey as he
can manage, and then, with a lightning movement, darts the tongue
forward on the unsuspecting victim. The tongue being covered with a
sticky substance, the fly adheres to the trap and is drawn in a
twinkling into the cavern, from which return is impossible. The working
of the tongue may be seen in the illustration.

The shortening of the intestine follows in consequence of the change to
more nutritious diet. In the young tadpole it is long and may be seen
coiled up like a watch-spring through the skin of the abdomen; in the
adult these coils disappear.

Such, then, is the brief outline of the life-history of one of Nature's
water babies. We have traced it from the egg to the grown-up form: and
here we must stop, though all that is of interest does not end here. I
could tell you of the curious way in which the frog changes colour to
suit his surroundings; of how he changes his skin; of his wonderful
vocal powers, and a hundred other things. But meanwhile, try and
discover it for yourselves by keeping a few frogs as pets, starting, as
I did, with the spawn taken from a ditch in spring.

W. P. PYCRAFT, F.Z.S., A.L.S.

THE GIANT OF THE TREASURE CAVES.

(_Continued from page 31._)

CHAPTER II.

Estelle could scarcely believe her eyes at the sight of Thomas. Her cry
made Marjorie and Georgie look round. Thomas there! How was it she had
not seen him before? How was it he had not heard their calls to him? Had
Alan had his dangerous climb for nothing?

With a sudden rush of anger, Marjorie was about to call to Thomas, when
another amazing event stopped her. Alan appeared at the entrance of the
cave, and signalling rapidly to her, put his fingers to his lips.

Puzzled and uncertain what he wanted her to do, she remained sitting
near the sand castle, telling Georgie to be quiet till Alan could
explain. Estelle meanwhile had dropped her stones, and, throwing herself
down by her cousin, wanted to know what Alan was doing.

'He will be here in a second,' said Marjorie, trying not to speak
impatiently in her anxiety, 'but he evidently does not wish us to look
as if we saw him. Let us go on playing as if nothing had happened.'

'But why mayn't we meet Alan?' demanded Georgie, stooping that he might
see under his sister's great hat.

'He doesn't want us to. I think he does not like Thomas to know he has
not been with us all the time. But it is all guessing, r