Our croaking concerts are renowned far and wide, and by a most fortunate coincidence one is about to take place, to celebrate the farewell--the departure to other regions--of a songster whose family fame for many ages has been renowned.

Monsieur and Mademoiselle, to-night is to be heard for the first time in this century the 'Song of the Swan.'" "The song of the swan," repeated Hugh, rather puzzled; "I didn't know swans ever sang.

I thought it was just an old saying that they sing once only--when they are dying." The frog bowed.
"Just so," he said; "it is the truth.

And, therefore, the extreme difficulty of assisting at so unique a performance.

It is but seldom--not above half-a-dozen times in the recollection of the oldest of my venerated cousins, the toads, that such an opportunity has occurred--and as to whether human ears have _ever_ before been regaled with what you are about to enjoy, you must allow me, Monsieur and Mademoiselle, with all deference to your race, for whom naturally we cherish the highest respect, to express a doubt." "It's a little difficult to understand quite what he means, isn't it, Cheri ?" whispered Jeanne.