/ 
2^8 THE FLORIST AND 
TOADS. (BUFO VULGARIS.) 
From the earliest recollection of the " oldest inhabitants," this little crea- 
ture has been under the ban, a source of terror to every little Miss, an 
object of disgust to maids and matrons, a by-word and term of reproach for 
every old aunt and grandma in the land, who would never seek farther in 
their vocabulary of opprobrious terms for a suitable name for any little 
urchin, than to call him a "little nasty toad." Boys have made it their 
sport, have pelted it with stones, pierced it through and through with sharp 
sticks, substituted it in the place of a ball, upon a bat board, throwing it 
high into the air, and exulting in its torture ; and even men in the field, hoeing 
their crops, have been wont to rudely thrust it aside with their hoes, as a 
useless reptile, wondering for what purpose such a loathsome object could 
have been created. The toad has been accused of being a venomous rep- 
tile, a fit object of dread, a poisoner of choice garden plants, deserving 
banishment from every one's premises, and fit only to inhabit an uninha- 
bitable morass or desert. The toad has, however, occasionally been brought 
into respecta.ble notice by curiosity hunters, and newspaper paragraph 
writers, whenever he has chanced to have been found in a torpid state in 
the cavity of a rock, or in the trunk of a tree, in which cases, an antiquity 
has been ascribed to it equal to that of Egyptian mummies, or perhaps set 
down as of antediluvian origin. In this manner, poor toady has gone the 
rounds of newspaper notoriety, not for any merit or value it might have 
possessed, but as a matter of mere curiosity. But this poor and despised 
creature has not been left entirely friendless, nor without an advocate. 
Naturalists have placed him in the scale of usefulness where he belongs, 
and have shown that he is not deserving the very many opprobriums that 
have been heaped upon him. 
To the gardener, the toad is a very useful assistant, as it devours a great 
number of insects and worms that prey upon the plants. In the darkness of 
the evening, the toad comes forth from its hiding-place, and commences its 
work of extermination. Noiselessly it passes through the garden, regaling 
itself upon the insects that have just begun their nocturnal work upon the 
tender plants. No one but those who have observed the movements of this 
little animal, can form any correct estimate of its usefulness. A few even- 
ings since, I watched one a short time, and observed that in the space 
of fifteen "minutes, it devoured some fifteen or twenty insects, of that 
class too, that in the day time, lie concealed from the observation of the 
