Nobody listened to him. It did hurt, more than you would think, for tiny hands were pulling each hair separately. When the ordeal was over, Bobby heard a faint noise in the grass as if some very small creatures were scurrying away, but he could see nothing. He was winking his eyes desperately to keep from crying.
"The assistants may go now," said the professor; and the sound of little feet died away in the distance.
"How interesting this is!" murmured a plain-looking toad who had been watching the experiments attentively.
"I think it's mean," protested poor Bobby, "to keep a fellow fastened up like this, and then torment him."
"Does it hurt as much as being skinned, or having your legs cut off?" demanded the professor.
"Or should you prefer to be stepped on, or burned up in a rubbish pile?" asked Mrs. Bufo.
"How should you like to be stoned or kicked, for a change?" said another toad sharply.
"Perhaps you would choose a fish-hook in the corner of your mouth?" said a voice from the pond.
"Or one run the entire length of your body?" came a murmur from the ground under Bobby's head.
"Wait a minute," said the professor, more gently. "We will give you a chance to defend yourself. It is not customary to inquire into the moral character of specimens, but we do not wish to be unjust. Perhaps you can explain why you made a bonfire the very week after the toads came out of their winter-quarters. Dozens of lives were destroyed before that fire was put out."