The Ontario Readers | Page 6

mounted to Bobby's freckled cheeks, but this time he did not try to speak.
"Now," said the professor, "as far as we have been able to learn, the human tadpole is absolutely useless. We are, therefore, doing no harm in experimenting upon this specimen. There are plenty of them, and this one will not be a serious loss."
"Stop!" said Bobby, so unexpectedly that everybody jumped. "What are you going to do with me?"
"You will be so kind as to lie still," said the professor severely. "At present you are only a specimen."
There was no help for it. Bobby found it impossible to move hand or foot. He could wriggle a little,--but that was all.
"Not only is the Boy entirely useless," went on the professor, "but he is often what might be called a pest, even to his own kind. He is endured in the world for what he may become when he is full-grown, and even then he is sometimes disappointing. You are familiar with many of his objectionable ways towards the animal world, but I am sure you would be surprised if you knew what a care and trouble he frequently is to his own people. He can be trusted to do few kinds of work. It is difficult to keep him clean. He doesn't know how to get his own dinner. He has a genius for making weaker things miserable. He likes fishing, and he longs for a gun; he collects birds' eggs; he puts butterflies on pins; he teases his little sisters."
"Why isn't the species exterminated?" asked another frog angrily.
Then the toad near Bobby's ear spoke timidly: "I think you are a little unjust, Professor. I have known boys who were comparatively harmless."
"It is true there may be a few, Mrs. Bufo," said the professor with great politeness, "but as a class they may be fairly set down as of very doubtful value. Speak up, Tadpole, and say if I have made any false statements so far."
Bobby fairly shouted in his eagerness to be heard.
"We do work," he said. "We have to go to school every day."
"What a help that must be to your parents and to the world at large!" said the frog with sarcasm. "I am surprised that we never see the results of such hard labour. Do you know how useful even our smallest tadpoles are? Without them this pond would be no longer beautiful, but foul and ill-smelling. As for what we do when we are grown up, modesty forbids me to praise the frogs, but you know what a toad is worth to mankind?"
"No," said Bobby. "About two cents, I guess." Bobby didn't intend to be rude. He thought this a liberal valuation.
"Twenty dollars a year, as estimated by the Department of Agriculture!" cried the frog triumphantly. "What do you think of that?"
"I should like to know why," said Bobby, looking as if he thought Professor Rana was making fun of him.
"What are the greatest enemies of mankind?" asked the professor, peering over his goggles at poor Bobby.
"Tigers," said Bobby, promptly; "or wolves."
"Wrong," said the lecturer. "Insects. Insects destroy property on this continent to the amount of over four hundred million dollars annually. Insects destroy the crops upon which man depends for his food. Going to school hasn't made you very wise, has it? Well, the toads are insect destroyers. That's their business. If the State only knew enough to make use of them, millions of dollars might be saved every year. Does it seem to you that the human animal is so clever as it might be, when it allows such numbers of toads to be destroyed?"
"It's a shame!" chimed in a voice from the front seats. "We keep out of the way as much as we can; we eat every kind of troublesome worm and insect,--the cutworm, canker-worm, tent caterpillar, army-worm, rose-beetle, and the common house-fly; we ask for no wages or food or care,--and what do we get in return? Not even protection and common kindness. If we had places where we could live in safety, who could tell the amount of good we might do? Yet I would not have this poor boy hurt if a word of mine could prevent it."
"This is a scientific meeting," observed the professor; "and benevolent sentiments are quite out of place. We will now proceed to notice the delicate nervous system of the creature. Stand closer, my friends, if you please."
"Nervous system, indeed!" said Bobby. "Boys don't have such silly things as nerves!"
Suddenly Bobby felt a multitude of tiny pin pricks over the entire surface of his body. The suffering was not intense, but the irritation made him squirm and wince. He could not discover the cause of his discomfort, but at the professor's command it suddenly ceased.
"That will do," said the frog.