n6 STIje artoen's Storj. 



state that he is a treasure among flowers. He 

 has a jewel in his tongue as well as his eye, and 

 is better than whale-oil soap as an insect-exter- 

 minator. One would think his unwieldy pres- 

 ence must necessarily be destructive to fragile 

 plants, yet his nocturnal hoppings leave no trace 

 of injury to the most delicate flowers. How 

 many gnats and flies and borers and aphides he 

 snaps up with his sphinx-like tongue during the 

 day, from behind the cool rock where he appears 

 to be dozing, Gilbert White, I believe, has never 

 computed. Richard Jefferies speaks of a straw- 

 berry-patch, the constant resource of all creeping 

 things, where one toad always resided, and often 

 two, and, as you gathered a ripe strawberry, 

 you might catch sight of his black eye watching 

 you take the fruit he had saved for you. The 

 toad takes excellent care of the insects, but, un- 

 fortunately, can not manage the snails, which, 

 unless carefully watched, are sometimes quite 

 destructive to the tender leaves of certain plants. 

 Since the scillas, hepaticas, and spring-beauty 

 have faded, another colony of flowers has ap- 

 peared. The primrose yet remains, with tufts 

 of later-flowering polyanthus and troops of 

 merry -eyed auriculas. Saxtfraga cordifolia 

 and its varieties have thrust out their large 

 trusses of rosy blossoms above their glossy 



