I hear the toad, which I have called “spray frog” falsely, still. He sits close to the edge of the water and is hard to find—hard to tell the direction, though you may be within three feet. I detect him chiefly by the motion of the great swelling bubble in his throat. A peculiarly rich, sprayey dreamer, now at 2 P.M.! How serenely it ripples over the water! What a luxury life is to him! I have to use a little geometry to detect him. Am surprised at my discovery at last, while C. sits by incredulous. . . .

  A hawthorn grows near by, just out of bloom, twelve feet high—Cratægus Oxyacantha. A veronica at Peetweet Rock; forget which kind. A crow blackbird’s nest high in an elm by riverside just below the Island. C. [William Ellery Channing] climbed to it and got it . . .