“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.