“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!”