Friends and Helpers Part 18

Sammy was silent for a minute.

"They don't know much," he said at last.

David looked round quickly.

"Now who told you that?" said he. "In the first place, if ignorance were any excuse for tormenting a poor creature, I might make you wretched for an hour or two. Fortunately for you, it isn't. We don't have to stop and ask what you know before we can be kind to you. But you make a mistake if you think frogs are stupid. See how well they dive and swim! I have been trying all summer, and I can't dive like that. They don't ever go down on their shoulders and stick their heads in the mud. I taught a frog to come and eat out of my hand. That was a brave thing for him to do. He knew as well as you know what some boys would have done to him."

Sammy was beginning to look ashamed.

"There's just one thing more," said David. "When you have to kill anything, kill it as quickly as you can. Don't let it suffer pain. There isn't any excuse for half the suffering there is in this world. Did you ever hear the story of Theodore Parker and the frogs?"

"No," said Sammy; "I should like to."

"When he was a little boy, perhaps less than four years old, he had to go home alone by a frog-pond where he had seen boys stoning frogs. He raised his hand to throw a stone at a frog, when he heard a voice say, 'Don't.' He looked all around but could see no one, and he raised his hand again to stone the frog. Again he heard a voice say, 'Don't.' Still he could see no one. He was frightened, and running, home to his mother he told her about it, and asked who it was that said, 'Don't.' She took him on her knee and told him that it was the voice of G.o.d speaking in his heart, and that if he would always listen to it he would grow up to be a good man."

"Will you take me fis.h.i.+ng this afternoon?" said Sammy, after a long pause.

"No, I will not," said David with emphasis. "I don't go fis.h.i.+ng for fun, and I have here all that I need."

"May I go swimming with you then?" persisted Sammy.

"Of course you may," said David cordially. "We'll see if we can swim any better than the frogs. I haven't much hope of it, but we can try."

"All right," said Sammy as he rose to go. He had gone not more than thirty feet before he stopped. "I won't stone them any more, David,"

he called back over his shoulder. Then he went on into the woods.

I would not enter on my list of friends, Though graced with polished manners and fine sense Yet wanting sensibility, the man Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.

COWPER.

SOME READY HELPERS.

We often fail to understand some of our best friends in the animal world. We know so little about them that we think they are useless and uninteresting. Frogs, and especially toads, are often the objects of unjust dislike, yet their lives are very useful and full of interest.

The toad and frog are somewhat alike. Both come from eggs laid in the water, and both begin life as little swimming tadpoles.

The young toad, when he is a tadpole, is sprinkled all over with very fine spots, which look like gold-dust, while the frog tadpole is dark.

The first few weeks of a toad's life are spent in a ditch or a pond.

Here he lives on water-weeds and dead leaves. After a while he eats water-insects and small grubs.

While living in the water the little toad looks very much like a fish.

He has a large head and a long tail. He breathes through two branches, like feathers, which are called gills. These gills grow on each side of his head.

The toad changes very much before he is ready to live on land. In the water he has no legs, but soon he has four. His gills are gone and he draws in air through his throat. He is going to begin a new life. In the spring the toads go back to the sh.o.r.e of the pond. Mrs. Toad knows that her eggs must be hatched in the water, although she prefers to live on the land.

Frogs must live near the water, for they will die if their skins are not kept moist and cool. Yet they cannot live long in the water, and a drowned frog is no uncommon sight. Kind-hearted boys and girls should remember this, and be ready to lend a helping hand to some poor frog that finds the sides of his swimming-place too steep for him to climb.

Young toads are very sensitive to heat, and secrete themselves in cool places during the day. A summer shower will bring them out by the dozens, so that many ignorant people think that the thirsty creatures have "rained down." Mr. Toad carries under his skin a great many small sacs full of liquid. This keeps him cool and comfortable, no matter how dusty his home may be. If he is frightened he can defend himself with this liquid, which is harmless to the hands, but probably bitter and disagreeable to the taste, since dogs and cats show signs of discomfort after taking toads in their mouths. Care should be taken to wash one's hands after touching a toad, as this liquid is also very irritating to the eyes, and might be rubbed into them.

The most curious thing about a toad is its tongue. This is very long, and its tip is turned backward into the mouth. It can dart out and snap up a fly or a beetle so quickly that it is almost impossible to see the motion.

Toads are not only harmless, but they are our very good friends. If they are not disturbed they will live a long time in one place, and destroy many bugs and insects that injure our gardens.

It has been estimated that every year in this country property to the amount of $400,000,000 is destroyed by insects. If this is true all creatures which feed upon insects are ent.i.tled to our care and grat.i.tude.

The United States Department of Agriculture has published a paper on the toad. It estimates that he saves to the farmer, by eating the cutworms which destroy the crops, about twenty dollars every season.

Toads eat the common house-fly, which is such an annoyance to us. A toad has been seen to snap up eighty-six flies in less than ten minutes.

Toads are sometimes kept for pets, and they are not lacking in intelligence. Once a toad lived in a garden, and every day at the dinner hour he came to be fed. It happened that the dinner hour was changed, and when the toad came there was nothing for him to eat. Mr. Toad made up his mind that he would not lose his dinner twice. On the second day he came at the new hour, and after this he was as punctual as the rest of the family. No one could tell how he knew that in the future his dinner would be served two hours earlier.

The toad is often the victim of thoughtless cruelty. He can do no one any harm. He cannot even run away when he is stoned and tormented. The fun of teasing him must be like that of beating a baby or a helpless cripple. No one but a coward could ever think it an amusing thing to do.

Perhaps no animal is so misunderstood as the bat. He seems such a queer compound of mouse and bird, and to most of us he is such a stranger, that we do not have a very friendly feeling for him.

Of course you know that he is not a bird at all. Birds have feathers and the bat has soft, smooth fur. He is absolutely harmless, unless frightened or hurt, and he is a very useful little fellow. He eats mosquitoes and house-flies and the insects that cause most of the worm- eaten apples.

Bats fly only at night. They soon become friendly with any one who is kind to them, and will come to be fed or stroked. One who has studied them says that the good they do is very great and that the value of one of the little animals might easily amount to fifty dollars a year.

Are we not unjust to any living creature when we shrink from it because to us it does not seem beautiful? It may well be that our eyes are too dull to see its real beauty. But whether we can see the beauty or not, it is only fair that we should recognize the service which we are so willing to accept.

A TRIUMPH.

Little Roger up the long slope rus.h.i.+ng Through the rustling corn, Showers of dew-drops from the broad leaves brus.h.i.+ng, In the early morn,

At his st.u.r.dy little shoulder bearing, For a banner gay, Stem of fir with one long shaving flaring In the wind away!

Up he goes, the summer sunrise flus.h.i.+ng O'er him in his race, Sweeter dawn of rosy childhood blus.h.i.+ng On his radiant face;

If he can but set his standard glorious On the hill-top low, Ere the sun climbs the clear sky victorious, All the world aglow!

So he presses on with childish ardor, Almost at the top!

Hasten, Roger! Does the way grow harder?

Wherefore do you stop?

From below the corn-stalks tall and slender Comes a plaintive cry; Turns he for an instant from the splendor Of the crimson sky,

Wavers, then goes flying toward the hollow, Calling loud and clear, "Coming, Jenny! Oh, why did you follow?

Don't you cry, my dear!"