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 minute, seemed to find what they were after, and then lay down together.

I walked quickly to them, and saw that Old Spot was eating a field-mouse. Frisky did not like them at first, but he soon learned to. When the mouse had been eaten, they took their station as before to watch the grass, until some movement in it should tell them that a mouse was stirring. Quite frequently they were fooled; for, on going to the place where the grass had stirred, they would find a hop-toad or a snake, or nothing but a grasshopper.

Frog-hunting was for a long time a mystery to me. I would see Frisky and Old Spot go off in the morning, and perhaps not return until night; but when they did come back, they were covered with mud and very tired.

One day I took my telescope and followed at a distance, determined to find out, if possible, what they could find to do in the swamps. They started straight for a distant swamp, Spot leading, until they came to a ditch. Here they lay down in the grass, and looked intently into the reeds and lily pads that I knew fringed the edge of the ditch.

Suddenly Frisky gave his short, sharp bark, that even deaf Old Spot could hear, and both dogs dove into the water, and when they came out, Spot was holding a bullfrogbull-frog [sic] by the hind leg.

My astonishment was too great for words; but it was still greater when, after offering him