New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1899-06-18
PRESENTED TO THE PEOPLE OF IRE
LAND BI THE ri LERS or NEW YORK.
HR. HAGGIRD'S TOADS.

II. Rider Haggard i'm LOngman's MAGAZINE
have two tame toads named Martha am
Jane, respectively. These tOadS are strange am,
interesting creatures, differing much from each
other IN appearance and character Martha is
stout and dark coorcd, a bold -natured toad Of
friendly habit: Jane. on the other hand. is pale
and thin, with depressed air which suggests
resignation born of long experience Of crcum-
stances over which she has no control Some OF
this depression may De due to the fact that once.
entering the greenhouse in the twilight | trOd
upon her accidentally. a shock from which she
seems never to have recovered although, owing
To the adaptive powers Of tOads. beyond slight
nattening she took no physical harm from an adj
venture which must haze been painful Indeed,
! am not sure that Of the TWO OF US ! did not
suffer most for | know of few things more up
setting than the feel Of a fat toad beneath ones
foot. Anyhow. since that day Jane has never
quite trusted me
These toads | feed with lobworms. or some
times with wOodce and centipedes taken from
traps made of hoOwed-out potatoes. which are
set among the flower pots to attract such Great
ures. In the latter case the insects must be
thrown before the toad, which never seems to
see them until they begin to run, although, its
being quick it can sometimes hear them
they move along the floor behind il.
When a toad catches sight Of an insect its att-
tude Of profound r"pose changes suddenly to one
Of extraordinary animation. It's swivel eyes
seem 10 project and fix themselves upon the
doomed creature off which it is about to lunch;
its throat begins to palpitate with violence and
IT'S general air DetraNS intense ana concentrated
interest Presently, from contemplation il pro-
cecds to action BY slow but purposeful move
ments OF its crooked limbs ii advances pauses
and advances again. till at length il reaches a
position which ii considers convenient. Then,
just the centipede gains sheltering pebble, a
long pink fash seems to proceed from the head
Of the toad. That is its tongue. Another in
slant and the pink thing has twisted itself
around the insect and retired into the capaciOus
mouth, and there. once more wrapped in deep
peace and rest, sits the toad, its eyes turned in
piOus thankfulncss to heaven, or, rather to the
roof OF the greenhouse. The other day even
saw Martha take a woodlouse off her own head
Mstaking the nature of its foothod. the insect
had been so unfortunate as to run up her back
and. becoming aware Of the tickling of its little
feet, Martha guessed the situation and acted
on it.
II the observer wishes to see what my old
gardener calls the beauty Of the thing wood
lice and centpedes undoubtedly provide the best
show, but for real grim earnest, FOR perfect
miCrOcosm OF the struggle for existence in which
somebody has to go down. the spectacle of
Martha meeting with selected lobwOrm is to be
recommended In this instance she sees the
thing at once for it is long, active and shiny
0oads will not touch anything that is dead, and
instantly clears for action. Creeping forward
with dreadful elaboration. she arches her neck
over the worm, considering it with her beady
eye. Then, as it begins TO take refuge beneath
the shingle-for worms seem to understand that
tOads are no friends TO them-Martha pounces
and grips il by the middle. Next comes long
strain. like that of thrush dragging at a
branding in the garden, and, after the strain,
the struggle
Heavens what a fight it is! Magnify the size
Of the combatants by five hundred, and no man
would dare to stay to look at it, The worm
writhes and rolls; Martha. seated on her
launches beats its eXtremties with her front
paws-cramming, pushing. gulpinG. and 10! grad
ually the worm seems to shorten. Shorter II
grows, and shorter yet 1t is vanishing into
Marthas inside. And now nothing is left but O
little pink tip projecting from the corner Of her
mouth. in appearance not unlike that of q
lighted cigar
The tip vanishes and you think that the trag-
edy is over But no; presently there is a convul-
sion followed by resurrection frantic as IL Is
futile. Again the war is waged, this time more |