Tommy found that he needed four good meals a day, and filling his stomach took most of his time when he wasn’t resting. Cutworms he found especially to his liking, and it was astonishing how many he could eat in a night. Caterpillars of many kinds helped out, and it was great fun to sit beside an ant-hill and snap up the busy workers as they came out. But, besides their daily foraging, there was plenty of excitement, as when a rustling warned them that a snake was near, or a shadow on the grass told them that a hawk was sailing overhead. At those times they simply sat perfectly still, and looked so much like little lumps of earth that they were not seen at all, or, if they were, they were not recognized. Instead of drinking, they soaked water in through the skin. To have a dry skin was to be terribly uncomfortable, and that is why they always sought shelter during the sunny hours. At last came a rainy day. “Toad weather! Perfect toad weather!” exclaimed old Mr. Toad. “This is the day to travel.” [Illustration: “TOAD WEATHER! PERFECT TOAD WEATHER!” EXCLAIMED OLD MR. TOAD] So once more they took up their journey in a leisurely way. A little past noon, the clouds cleared away and the sun came out bright. “Time to get under cover,” grunted old Mr. Toad, and led the way to a great gray rock beside the Lone Little Path and crawled under the edge of it. Tommy was just going to follow--when something happened! He wasn’t a toad at all--just a freckle-faced boy sitting on the wishing-stone. He pinched himself to make sure. Then he looked under the edge of the wishing-stone for old Mr. Toad. He wasn’t there. Gradually he remembered that he had seen old Mr. Toad disappearing around a turn in the Lone Little Path, going hoppity-hop-hop-hop, as if he had something on his mind. “And I thought that there was nothing interesting about a toad!” muttered Tommy. “I wonder if it’s all true. I believe I’ll run down to the Smiling Pool and just see if that is where Mr. Toad really was going. He must have about reached there by this time.” He jumped to his feet and ran down the Lone Little Path. As he drew near the Smiling Pool, he stopped to listen to the joyous chorus rising from it. He had always thought of the singers as just “peepers,” or frogs. Now, for the first time, he noticed that there were different voices. Just ahead of him he saw something moving. It was old Mr. Toad. Softly, very softly, Tommy followed and saw him jump into the shallow water. Carefully he tiptoed nearer and watched. Presently old Mr. Toad’s throat began to swell and swell, until it was bigger than his head. Then he began to sing. It was only a couple of notes, tremulous and wonderfully sweet, and so expressive of joy and gladness that Tommy felt his own heart swell with happiness.