MISS MARTIN’S TALK
The Blue Birds and Bobolinks had to hurry to the kitchen where a
good-natured cook and kitchen girl offered to dry their wet clothes.
Meantime, the hapless boys and girls would have to wear overalls just
as the Little Citizens did for work.
The majority of the Little Citizens had followed their visitors to the
big kitchen and when the transformed Blue Birds came out in blue denim
jumpers, everyone laughed.
“What can we do while we’re waiting for our clothes to dry?” asked Dot
Starr, who never could keep quiet a moment.
“Let Miss Martin tell one of her stories!” suggested Nelly.
“She’s an awful good story-teller! You just oughter hear one,” added
Maggie, with the air of one who knows.
“If you will all sit down on the Refectory floor while we are waiting
for dry clothes, I will tell you a short story,” agreed Miss Martin.
And everyone sat down just where he or she happened to be.
“What shall it be?” asked the lady.
Just then a hop-toad jumped upon the platform of the Refectory floor
and almost landed in Betty Blue Bird’s lap.
“Oh, oh! A horrid toad!” cried she, jumping up to shake herself free
from the disagreeable contact.
“I’ll tell you a story about a _nice_ little toad!” laughed Miss
Martin, instantly.
“Oh yes, and cure Betty of her dread of wood-creatures,” added Dot,
eagerly.
“That little toad only hopped up to say, ‘Glad to see you in the
country, children!’ because he is so happy here himself, he wants
everyone to feel as happy as he does.
“You see Speckles--that is the toad’s name, I’m sure--had had a
dreadful long season of it last winter as he lay dozing under the old
tree-roots over there. You will find a deep hole running under the
roots, and in the fall the wind blows leaves and other dry material
into the opening to keep out the cold.
“Speckles has a wide mouth and great shining eyes, but his eyes could
see nothing to eat in the tunnel where he waited for spring, and his
mouth had chewed nothing since the cold blast of winter had driven him
to cover late in the fall.
“Speckles was too tired and cold and hungry to force a way out to the
open until he was quite sure there would be a fair-sized meal for
his empty stomach, so he waited and dozed some more. As he dozed he
wondered--and that made a dream you know--where Spot, his mate, could
be. Was she still sleeping or was she out and working for something to
eat?
“That made Speckles sit up! He rubbed his button eyes with a fore-foot
and yawned--oh what a yawn from that great mouth! He determined to go
out for some air. Perhaps, who knows--there might be a tidbit about
somewhere to ease the gnawing in his insides!
“The dry leaves were soon pushed out and forth came Speckles, but a
very different-looking toad from the fat one that went into winter
quarters the previous fall.
“‘Good-day, Mr. Cricket!’ said Speckles, politely, to a very
tender-looking cricket that sat just above his reach on a twig.
“Being once removed on the plane above a common toad, Mr. Cricket never
deigned to notice the polite greeting. Had the _toad_ been above, the
entire scene would have changed instantly! Perhaps proud Mr. Cricket
would have been the suppliant for life and liberty.
“Speckles hopped over to the tunnel to which he had escorted his mate
the season before, and now he churked a sickly roundelay to wake her
from her dreams. Spot was having a glorious dream of bugs and maggots
and all kinds of toothsome dainties, and the faint call from her mate
failed to rouse her the first time. Again he chirruped, a bit louder
and stronger this time, and Spot awoke with a shock to find her feast
vanish! It was but a dream!
“Spot then waddled out--she need not have waddled, as she was thin and
scrawny, but she was still dreaming that she had stuffed herself at
the feast, so she waddled. Then, too, her joints were stiff from the
cramped position she had been in for many months.
“‘Ha, Spot, my dear!’ saluted Speckles, as he saw his mate stumbling
from the winter resort.
“‘Well, Speck, have you found any dinner?’ was the first house-wifely
question from Spot.
“‘I met Mr. Cricket, but he seemed very lean and unsatisfying, so I
passed him up,’ replied Speckles.
“‘Oh, did you? Or did he hop up himself?’ tittered Spot.
“‘Isn’t it all the same, my dear? I did not eat him!’
“Spot gave a sleepy look at her spouse but said nothing.
“‘I have been thinking, my dear wife, that perhaps some of our friends
may hold a musicale at the frog-pond tonight--shall we hop down and
see? We may find some juicy bugs on the way, too.’
“‘Yes, let us be off! I must find a home for the children as soon as
possible, too, and perhaps the tepid water of the mud-hole will be just
right for the eggs.’
“So the pair hopped away from the trees and were soon at a small spot
beside the creek, where the water had made a tiny bay in the bank. On
the way they found a spider and a few thin ants, but what was such a
tiny mouthful to such hungry toads?
“On the muddy brink of the small inlet, Spot sat and wondered! Here she
had laid a number of tiny eggs the spring before, and these had hatched
out into fine, fat little tadpoles. How well she remembered the day the
tads turned into tiny toads with wide gaps for mouths and bright button
eyes like her own, and had hopped out of the water to prance about and
play with each other!
“Where now were all those dear children? Would any of them remember the
old home-spot and return to bring their grand-children, and gladden the
old frogs?
“‘Oh, well,’ sighed Spot, ‘It is the way of all human nature! Once
the child is grown it throws off all restraint and protecting care of
parents and plunges headlong into life!’
“But Speckles interrupted her thought by calling her attention to an
old decayed log under which he had just burrowed.
“‘Spot--come quick! A fine mess of bugs here!’
“And Spot jumped over to gorge herself on the feast--almost as
delicious a feast as in the dream, but far more satisfying than the
dream-feast had been.
“Spot then made her way carefully down the muddy bank and waddled out
to water that reached to her nose. The rest of her body was submerged.
There she sat all night, listening to the singing of the male toads who
serenaded their mates on the banks, while their wives were attending to
family duties.
“Speckles sang and sang, too, as he sat on the grassy bank just above
Spot where she was laying the yearly batch of eggs.
“At the first streak of dawn, Speckles whispered: ‘Spot, the day is
breaking--we must away to our home.’
“Spot scrambled out at that, and followed her mate to the woods, saying
as she went: ‘I wish we could have a grand family reunion this year,
Speckles. When the new eggs hatch out into polliwogs, I would like to
have our children of last year come home and meet the babies.’
“‘That is a silly mother’s sentiment! I suppose our large family of
last year is well-scattered in every direction this year.’
“Spot said nothing but sighed for she knew how useless it was to wish
an impossible wish!
“Some time after this event, the eggs laid by Spot that lovely
moonlight night, hatched into queer little black things with but two
legs and a slippery tail. Some of the saucy polliwogs whisking about in
the outside creek jeered:
“‘Pooh! You Tads! Where are your front legs?’
“‘They’ll grow soon, and when they do we’ll come out there and duck you
impudent Polliwogs!’ threatened one Tad, named Tibby.
“At the bare mention of ‘duck’ every Tad jumped and even Tibby Tad
shivered with apprehension, for it was well known that a duck was a
deadly foe to a Polliwog or a Tadpole.
“‘Quick--run to cover! Here comes a duck!’ shouted a Polliwog from the
larger creek.
“Instantly every Tad burrowed down through the muddy inlet and remained
hidden until they heard the Pollys’ laugh and jeer, then the Tads knew
they had been made sport of.
“‘I’m going to swim out there and slap that Polliwog’s face!’ exclaimed
Tibby Tad, as he started up from the soft mud.
“Just then a dreadful thing happened on the surface of the water above
him. A big black thing fell ker-splash into the pool, and the ripples
circled about as it tried to scramble forth again.
“The big black bug saw the Tads, however, and made a quick dive for
them. Alas! Some were caught and gobbled up, but Tibby escaped without
a scratch!
“‘That wasn’t a duck, but it was just as bad as one,’ said Tibby to
himself, as he decided not to swim out to the big creek that day but
stick close to the home-bank of mud.
“Some time after this, the other legs began to grow and the Tads who
had survived the raids of ducks, beetles, bugs and other enemies, found
they could hop feebly to the bank.
“‘Why this is our birthday--we are six weeks old today,’ exclaimed
Tibby, as he managed to scramble out of the puddle and sit up in the
grass, panting after the unusual exertion.
“He watched his brothers and sisters crawl up beside him, and after
a time, they began to jump and have the most fun! Leap-frog was too
strenuous for that day, as the little legs would wobble when they tried
to hop.
“‘Come with me, Tina,’ coaxed Tibby to his sister, as he found she was
the sturdiest of the lot who had hopped from the pool.
“As Tibby and Tina hopped away, a few of their brethren followed. Now
and then the Tads--or Toads they now were--stopped to feast upon an
unknown tidbit, but they ate it whether it was familiar and certified
by the Pure Food Commission or not! They ate and ate, every sort of bug
or worm they found, and not a single thought was wasted on Mr. Hoover
or his wartime rations! Tibby and Tina were not very patriotic in their
self-denial that first day out of the puddle!
“Tibby led the way, for he was the bravest of the party. Soon he came
to a tall grassy place where he heard a queer sound.
“‘Tina, do you hear?’ asked Tibby.
“‘Yes, brother, what is it?’
“‘No time to ask--run, Tina!’ cried Tibby, and the two made a mighty
leap just in time to escape a quail that pounced down upon the tiny
toads and gobbled one quickly out of sight.
“‘It was Clumsy that disappeared!’ sighed Tina, all sympathy for the
awkward little toad that could not escape death.
“‘Watch out for other assassins! We know not where the next may lurk,’
whispered Tibby, for he was poetical as well as practical, you see.
“Tina admired her big brother and watched carefully as he had advised,
so she was the first to spy a swift animal with a bushy tail. What was
it? How it did jump--almost as fast and high and far as a toad!
“‘Run, Tina, Run! It’s a squirrel!’ shouted Tibby, as the tiny toads
stood petrified with fear.
“The squirrel soon had the smallest and weakest of the family and that
left four to wander along heart-broken over their loss.
“‘I fear we shall end like the “ten little niggers that sat on a
gate,”’ wailed Tibby, the poem of those unlucky little black children
appealing to him at the moment.
“‘Tibby, will you or I be the last one to swing on the gate and then
fall off, so there was none?’ mournfully asked Tina.
“Suddenly, before Tibby could reply, there was a happy cry and two fat
toads appeared who greeted the four baby toads.
“‘Oh my darlings--it is Mamma Spot! Don’t you know me?’
“Then Speckles puffed up proudly as he saw young Tibby and the baby
brother, and said, ‘Tib, my son, I am glad to see you have brought the
children safely home.’
“What became of the other tads in the puddle I never could find out,
but the four we followed to the woods lived happily with Speckles and
Spot and as they grew up and married they raised their Tads in that
same puddle.
“The pretty toad that jumped into Betty’s lap a while ago was either
Father Speckles or Tibby, who sniffed something to eat and wondered
if we humans ate the same delicious bugs that he preferred above
everything else.”
Everyone clapped at the ending of the story and Betty laughed gayly, as
she admitted that she would like to find Tibby, just to tell him how
glad she was he had escaped from his enemies.