.

He reached the garden, and crossed the lawn to the sunny verbena bed.
That seemed a suitable place for the snake, and he tenderly placed it,
writhing feebly, among the thin pegged-down strands.

Then came the other reptile's turn.

They had been friends and even companions together in the big
flower-pot, Dexter argued, so they should have the chance of being
friends again in the flower-bed.

The toad was in his left hand, and going down on one knee he separated
the verbenas a little, and then placed his hand, knuckles downward, on
the soft moist earth, opening his fingers slowly the while.

"Good-bye, Sam," he said, in a low voice. "You and I have had some good
fun together, old chap, and I hope you will be very happy when I'm
gone."

He slowly spread his hand flat, so that his fingers and thumb ceased to
form so many posts and rails about the reptile, or a fleshly cage. In
imagination he saw the dusky grey creature crawl off his hand gladly
into the dewy bed, and it made him more sad to find how ready everything
was to be free, and he never for a moment thought about how he was going
to play as ungrateful a part, and march off too.

"Good-bye, Sam," he said, as he recalled how he had played with and
tickled that toad, and how it had enjoyed it all, and turned over to be
rubbed. Then he seemed to see it walk in its heavy, cumbrous way slowly
off, with its bright golden eyes glistening, till it sat down in a
hollow, and watched him go.

But it was all fancy. The toad did not crawl out of his hand among the
verbenas, nor go right away, but sat perfectly motionless where it was,
evidently, from its acting, perfectly warm, comfortable, and contented.

"Well, Sam, why don't you go!" said Dexter softly. "Do you hear?"

He gave his hand a jar by striking the back on the earth, but the toad
did not move, and when he touched it with his right hand, it was to find
the fat squat reptile squeezed up together like a bun.

He stroked it, and rubbed it, as he had rubbed it scores of times
before, and the creature once more pressed up against his fingers, while
Dexter forgot everything else in the gratification of finding his ugly
pet appreciate his attentions.

"Now then! off you go!" he cried quickly; but the creature did not stir.

"Are you going?" said Dexter. "Come: march."

Again it did not stir.

"He don't want to go," cried the boy, changing it from, one hand to the
other; and the next moment he was h