122 Zom Seven Years Old.

were pouring the ditch- water into his bath.
She did not look at all pleased.

“My dear Tom,” she said, “what a mess
you are making! What do you want with
tadpoles? You can go to see them in the
ditches.”

“Oh, mamma!” cried Tom, “don’t send
them away, please! I want to see them
really turning into frogs. And this is the
only place I can watch them day and night.
We spilt them once at the stile, and it was
such hard work picking them up.”

“Very well,” said his mamma, “you may
keep them for a little while; but you mustn't
bring any more in—remember.”

So they lived in his bath, and he watched
them closely, whenever he was not at his
breakfast, or dinner, or tea, or at lessons, or
at play, or at sleep at night, or out, or doing
anything else. But he never did see them
change, after all. One of them did turn into
a frog without his observing how,, but the
rest remained tadpoles, till at last, poor dears,
they were emptied back into the ditch.