It was the first time in all his life that Tommy had ever looked into a toad’s eyes. Whoever would think of looking at the eyes of a hop-toad? Certainly not Tommy. Eyes were eyes, and a toad had two of them. Wasn’t that enough to know? Why under the sun should a fellow bother about the color of them, or anything like that? What difference did it make? Well, it made just the difference between knowing and not knowing; between knowledge and ignorance; between justice and injustice. Tommy suddenly realized this as he looked straight into the eyes of old Mr. Toad, and it gave him a funny feeling inside. It was something like that feeling you have when you speak to some one you think is an old friend and find him to be a total stranger. “I--I beg your pardon, Mr. Toad,” said he. “I take it all back. You have something beautiful--the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. If I had eyes as beautiful as yours, I wouldn’t care how many freckles I had. Why haven’t I ever seen them before?” Old Mr. Toad slowly blinked, as much as to say, “That’s up to you, young man. They’re the same two eyes I’ve always had. If you haven’t learned to use your own eyes, that is no fault and no business of mine. If I made as little use of my eyes as you do of yours, I shouldn’t last long.” It never before had occurred to Tommy that there was anything particularly interesting about old Mr. Toad. But those beautiful eyes--for a toad’s eyes are truly beautiful, so beautiful that they are the cause of the old legend that a toad carries jewels in his head--set him to thinking. The more he thought, the more he realized how very little he knew about this homely, common neighbor of the garden. “All I know about him is that he eats bugs,” muttered Tommy, “and on that account is a pretty good fellow to have around. My, but he _has_ got beautiful eyes! I wonder if there is anything else interesting about him. I wonder if I should wish to be a toad just to learn about him, if I could be one. I guess some of the wishes I’ve made on this old stone have been sort of foolish, because every time I’ve been discontented or envious, and I guess the wishes have come true just to teach me a lesson. I’m not discontented now. I should say not! A fellow would be pretty poor stuff to be discontented on a beautiful spring day like this! And I don’t envy old Mr. Toad, not a bit, unless it’s for his beautiful eyes, and I guess that doesn’t count. I don’t see how he can have a very interesting life, but I almost want to wish just to see if it _will_ come true.” At that moment, old Mr. Toad came out from under the wishing-stone and started on down the Lone Little Path. Just as before, he seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere, and to have something on his mind. Tommy had to smile as he watched his awkward hops.