MR. HOP TOAD HOPS IN
SHE worked away very hard for half an hour.
“My,” she thought, “this is such warm work I guess I’ll take a little
rest,” and she sat down under the tree nearby.
She was just going to sleep when she thought she heard someone speak.
Yes, it was Feather Flop, and he seemed to be arguing with someone.
“He wouldn’t talk to a stranger,” thought Mary Frances, “I wonder who
it is. I don’t dare peep, for fear they’ll stop talking if they see me.”
Pretty soon the voices came nearer.
“I tell you,” Feather Flop was saying in a boastful tone, “I tell you I
am of the greatest benefit to the garden.”
“If so, why so?” The question was asked in a funny, croaking voice.
“If so, why so?” mimicked Feather Flop. “Because it is so. So there!”
“Yes, certainly, if saying so makes it so,” replied the voice. “But
it is not so in my opinion. For instance—pardon me till I catch that
fly—how many snails do you imagine I have eaten to-day?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Feather Flop; “but I do know this. I know I am
the biggest benefit to the garden.”
“I beg pardon, sir,” answered the other; “I think I can easily prove I
am the biggest benefit to the garden.”
“Cluck! Caw!” exclaimed Feather Flop. “You mean you are the biggest
toad in the puddle, Hoppy, you poor old toad!”
“Ho! Ho!” thought Mary Frances. “So it’s a hop toad! I just believe
it’s that big fellow that lives under the stepping stone. I think I’d
know him. I believe I’ll peep!”
She looked cautiously around the tree. “It is! It is that same fellow I
really believe! My, I wish I could ask him some questions!”
“Indeed, I do not mean anything of the kind, Mr. Feather Flop,”
retorted the hop toad, and Mary Frances could see his throat swell
with indignation. “I mean that I am actually and truly one of the most
helpful living things to have in a garden.”
“Now, now, don’t get angry,” begged Feather Flop, “I want to hear about
that! I want to find out, Hoppy, how you are more beneficial to the
garden than I am.”
“Well,” answered the hop toad, blinking his eyes with a satisfied
smile, “it’s this way: suppose I begin with the baby toads——”
“A crow told me they taste very good,” interrupted Feather Flop.
“For shame!” whispered Mary Frances. “Isn’t that awful of Feather Flop!”
The rooster must have heard her, for he suddenly bowed his head,
saying, “Oh, I beg your pardon, Hoppy—really I do! Please excuse me!”
“I suppose you don’t know any better manners,” answered the hop toad,
“so I’ll have to excuse you, and I’ll tell you—if you don’t interrupt—
THE STORY OF THE HOP TOAD
My mother told me that one lovely day early in May she
awoke from her winter’s nap. Oh, yes, that’s what we do
in winter—sleep in the ground.
Well, my mother awoke, and went happily hopping down
to the meadow pond to lay some eggs. Perhaps you don’t
know them when you see them—toads’ eggs. They look like
tiny black pills in strings of transparent jelly. This
jelly either drops to the bottom of the pond or fastens
to water weeds.
TADPOLES
The eggs grow larger and larger and pretty soon become
baby toads, or tadpoles.
Well, I was one of the tadpoles that spring, and my
brothers and sisters and I soon ate some of the jelly,
and then some of the delicious slime in the pond.
Yes, we lived in the water and breathed somewhat the
way fishes do.
When we were about ten days old, our mouths grew much
stronger and our jaws grew horny so that we could bite
off pieces of plants.
How lovely it was! I can remember now how cool and
pleasant it felt to swim about in the pond. We had long
flat tails which we used for swimming.
Now, Feather Flop, if you interrupt again I shall not
finish my story! No, we didn’t eat our tails; of course
not. Our tails were absorbed into our bodies to help
with their growth.
When we were about an inch long we had but stump tails,
and found we had to come to the surface of the water
for more air every day, we decided we were no longer
tadpoles, but real hop toads. We swam to the shore of
the pond and hopped away.
TOADS’ ENEMIES
Many of my little brothers and sisters, alas! were
eaten by snakes, and—yes, Feather Flop—gobbled up by
crows.
No, Feather Flop, dogs wouldn’t bite us, because—do
you see the warts on my back? They are very useful to
me. When I want to disgust an enemy, I can send out of
those warts a disagreeable, biting secretion, and I am
dropped pretty quickly.
No, of course, we cannot make warts on people’s hands.
No toad ever did anything of the kind! It’s a horrible
untruth. Certainly we seem cold to people’s touch.
That’s because our blood is of the same temperature as
the air. Their blood is warmer.
Well, as I said, almost any enemy drops one of us
grown-up toads quickly but snakes! They don’t seem to
mind us at all. Ugh! when I see one I either hop away
with all my might, or I bury myself in the earth. No,
Feather Flop, I can’t teach you how! I do it with my
hind legs. See how I can kick!
There are two more ways in which we escape our enemies.
In the first place, if you notice carefully, you will
observe that I am almost the color of the leaves on
which I am sitting. If I should hop out there on the
path, my coat would change in a short time to nearly
the color of the path. Oh, I do not care to try it
now. The sun is shining there, and I certainly do
not like sunlight and heat! The fact of our color
being nearly the shade of our surroundings prevents
enemies from seeing us. Yes, you are right, we shed
our skins several times a year, and we swallow them.
We generally do this when no one is looking. The other
way we escape notice is the fact that we feed mostly at
night, while our enemies are asleep.
HOW TOADS HELP THE GARDEN
Speaking of food, Feather Flop—have you eaten any of
those delicious tent caterpillars? No? Well, you should
try some. Don’t you like them? They stick to your
throat? Oh, I didn’t know that, but I’ve noticed that
you didn’t seem to eat them, nor “thousand-leggers.”
That’s the reason I said I was of more benefit than you
to the garden.
Just listen until I tell you what I had this early
morning for supper. No, not breakfast! I told you I
feed at night. Early morning brings my supper time!
Well, these are what I had:
[F
]6 cutworms
5 thousand leg worms
6 sow bugs
9 ants
1 weevil
1 ground beetle
We eat also snails, injurious beetles, grasshoppers,
worms, potato bugs, and lots more of harmful creatures.
Well, ants and spiders may be useful, but ants are a
question, and we eat few spiders. Spiders are lots
of fun to catch, though. See, there is one! See how
my tongue shot out at him? My tongue is fastened to
the lower jaw at the front of my mouth. You didn’t see
it? Well, I suppose we toads do use our tongues pretty
quickly. They have a sticky substance spread over them,
so we’re pretty certain to make our “catch.”
“Now, Feather Flop, I think I’ve told you almost everything. Is there
anything else you’d like to know?”
Mary Frances had been listening with all her ears.
“My, there are things I’d like to know,” she thought. “How I wish he’d
talk to me!”
“No,” said Feather Flop in a crestfallen voice, “I don’t think of any.
I certainly must acknowledge that you are usefuller than I thought!”
“Thanks! All right!” replied the toad, taking a hop.
“Hold on, please, Hoppy!” Mary Frances ventured to call.
The toad turned.
“Please, Mr. Hop Toad,” she begged, “please will you tell me something?
I’ve overheard your wonderful story. If it is not too inquisitive, may
I ask why your throat puffs all the time?”
“Certainly, certainly,” croaked the toad, “my voice is hoarse, Miss,
but I’ll do my best to answer. You see, we toads have no ribs to use
when we breathe, so we have to swallow every bit of air we use.”
“Oh,” said Mary Frances, “that is it. I am so much obliged to you for
telling me. Here is a fish-worm—or do you call them angle-worms, or
earth-worms?—for you!”
“A fish-worm!” exclaimed the toad. “That is fine. Throw it down,
please. No, that is the wrong end toward me. Fish-worms wear rough
rings along their bodies which hurt the throat if swallowed the wrong
way foremost. They’re pretty large to get down, so I may have to rub it
down my throat with my hands.”
This the funny little toad did, and after getting it down, patted its
little stomach. “My, it was so good. I shut my eyes while I swallowed!”
he said.
Mary Frances laughed outright. “I’m glad I gave you a treat,” she
said. “I wish I knew something else I could do to make you happy.”
“Then just take a stick and scratch my back, please.”
Mary Frances did as requested.
Feather Flop looked on all the while without a word. At length he
blurted out, “You told me, little Miss, I think, that fish-worms were
good for the garden—that they stir the soil and make it light and
porous. I’ve never eaten one since you told me that!”
He looked scornfully at the toad.
Mary Frances smiled. “Oh, Feather Flop, indeed I thank you, but you
see, we don’t need so many of them. You could take one once in a while.”
“I must be going,” said the toad, “and I thank you, Miss. You’re much
more polite and kind than some people I’ve known!” glancing at the
rooster.
“He means the boy that stoned him,” said Feather Flop.
“Excuse me, I did not refer to him,” said the toad; “but really, boys
are terribly hard on us! And think of all we do to help them. We eat
the dreadfully destructive insects.”
“I wonder if my brother Billy ever—” began Mary Frances.
“No, not any more,” said the toad. “I’ve lived here in this garden five
years and it’s over a year since he’s troubled any of us.”
“He never will again,” promised Mary Frances. “I shall certainly tell
him your story.”
“Good-bye, and thank you very much!” suddenly exclaimed the toad,
hopping away very rapidly.
“Oh,” called Mary Frances, “I want to ask you something else. Won’t you
talk to us again?”
This time the toad did not turn around nor answer a word, but hopped
more rapidly than ever.
“I can catch him!” exclaimed Feather Flop, “and I’ll peck him as hard
as ever I can, too, for treating you that way!”
“Don’t you dare, Feather Flop,” called Mary Frances, running after him.
“I’m ashamed of you!” catching him up.
“Oh, dear,” sighed Feather Flop, “and I wanted to help you so much! I
am always doing something wrong!”
“Listen, Feather Flop,” explained Mary Frances, “that probably
frightened him so he’ll never speak again.”
“I’ll be to blame for that, too,” mourned Feather Flop. “Oh, I’m sorry,
so sorry.”
“Never mind, my friend,” said Mary Frances; “I appreciate the kindness
you meant to show even if you made a mistake.”
“Are you sure you forgive me, little Miss?” asked the rooster.
“Quite sure,” answered Mary Frances. “But I can’t promise about the hop
toad!”
“I don’t care a hop about Hoppy,” said the rooster, “just so you
forgive me.”
“I guess a rooster, even if as clever as Feather Flop, can’t understand
such things,” mused Mary Frances to herself.
“Please be polite to him for my sake, then,” she said.
“I will! indeed I will!” promised Feather Flop.
FOOTNOTE:
[F] This list is taken from U. S. Farmers’ Bulletin No. 196, Usefulness
of the American Toad.