flowers and the fish, the frogs, too, give forth new life. Within
them, too, the miracle is performed. The tiny eggs of the one wake up
and begin to grow. The tiny living bodies in the fertilizing principle
of the other also wake up and begin to grow. But higher life is better
guarded, because less prolific. The frog and the toad lay but few eggs
as compared with the fish. Fish eggs may drop under the stones or
float away, and so escape the vital touch of the fertilizing
principle. There are so many that numbers may be lost and yet enough
remain to continue the family. Not so with the frog family. No egg may
be lost. So we find that the eggs of the frog are not dropped singly,
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