MY FIRST POND

I AM never tired of looking in a pond. What busy life there is in that green world! On the warm mud of the edges, the Frog’s little Tadpole basks and frisks in its black legions; down in the water, the orange-bellied Newt steers his way slowly with the broad rudder of his flat tail; among the reeds are stationed the little fleets of the Caddis-worms, half-protruding from their tubes, which are now a tiny bit of stick and again a tower of little shells.