ingly,
like so many shot, but are bound together by a colorless, transparent,
jelly-like substance, much like that found in the morning-glory seed,
and which like that supplies nourishment to the young life, for the
tadpole feeds upon it until he is able to seek other food. Moreover,
instinct has taught the frog the need of extreme caution in the act of
fertilization. Every egg _must_ be fertilized. As the time draws near
for the dropping of the few eggs into the water, the male frog so
places himself that the moment the eggs are being laid, he pours over
them, one by one, as they fall into the water, the fertilizing fluid.

And thus the mystery of life is again repeated. The union of the
living, microscopic bodies of the fertilizing principle with the new
laid egg is followed by the growth of the two elements into a living
creature, able to eat, to breathe, to see, to feel. In some unknown
way the atom of fertilizing principle seems to have contained the
whole life of the father-frog, for it can give to his sons and
daughters any of his peculiarities, either of color, form, motion, or
disposition; and the tiny egg seems to have contained the whole life
of the mother-frog, and can give to her sons and daughters any of her
peculiarities; though, as is true of all inheritance, the tadpoles, as
the young frogs are called, share the natures of both parents,
inheriting some peculiarities from the father and others from the
mother.

[Illustration: A FROG.]

But, like other life, although the frogs may vary a good deal within
frog limits, none of them can escape their own limits and enter into
those of any other life. Once a frog, always a frog; and no frog-egg
may hope to develop into a turtle, or a bird, or anything but a frog.
The life in the fertilizing principle of the frog is sacred to frog
eggs, and is lifeless in contact with any other.

Our common frogs, like many of the fishes, do not trouble themselves
about the fate of their eggs after they are carefully laid in a safe
place. They trust Mother Nature to see the little tadpoles safely
through the perils of childhood, to help them change their dresses and
get rid of their tails, and cut, not their teeth, but their arms and
legs.

In Venezuela, however, there dwells a frog with well developed
maternal instinct. The mothers have pockets on their backs, not for
their own convenience, but as cradles for their babies. The fathers
put the fertilized eggs into the po