PEEPING FROGS by Bradford Torrey

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 22, 1903

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 29, No. 16.

PEEPING FROGS.

By Bradford Torrey

[Bradford Torrey, in The Congregationalist.]

“Can you tell me,” asked one of my neighbors, the other morning, “what it is that makes all the peeping in the meadows at this time of the year?”

“Yes,” I answered, “it is Hyla Pickeringii—Pickering’s hyla.”

This did not much enlighten him, as I knew it would not, so I went on to say that the “peepers” are called hylas in the books, but are more generally known as frogs—very small tree frogs. Though every one hears them, comparatively few people ever see them; or rather, when they do see them in the woods or along the roadside later in the season, they take them from their tiny size to be young frogs of the common sort. If they would pick one of them up, however, they would find each of its toes furnished with a small disk at the end, by means of which the creature is enabled to climb trees.

My neighbor seemed glad to learn these facts. Some old man had assured him that the “peeper” was a bug! He knew all about it—had gone into the meadow and caught it. This piece of natural history reminded me of an excellent woman, a school-teacher, who once tried to convince me that all this peeping of the early spring was the work of turtles. I expressed my disbelief, and even went so far as to say that I doubted whether turtles had any voice. On this point she was fully prepared.

“But it says in the Bible, ‘The voice of the turtle is heard in the land,’” she answered; and when I suggested that the writer of Solomon’s Song probably meant the turtledove she was almost indignant.

My questioner of the other morning told me that he had often tried to see one of the “peepers” in the act, but had never succeeded.

It is not the easiest thing in the world, as the common saying is, but it can be done with a moderate expenditure of patience. You must be ready to stand still a long time. The cry will perhaps come up from your very feet, and yet no frog be anywhere in sight. If so, you must turn over the fallen leaves one by one, and sooner or later you will uncover the musician. The little fellow puffs out his throat as toads and most of the larger frogs do while singing, and certainly makes a good deal of noise for a creature of his size. He is fully absorbed and evidently enjoys his own music. And well he may. Spring would hardly be spring if the hylas did not peep.