told
from the ground for colour. "No, you wouldn't, but you would be--
ho-ho-ho--you would be--ha-ha-ha--such a--he-he-he--such a--haw-haw-haw.
There, I can't help laughing," said the round fellow, with his fat
sides wagging about through his merriment. "You must excuse me, but I
do think you would look so comical with all your feathers gummed down to
your skinny sides, that wisp of a tail like a streak of horsehair, and
those stilty legs sticking into your scraggy body--ho-ho-ho-ho--my fat
sides! How I wish I had ribs, for then I could stop laughing easier;
but you are such a droll little chap."

"Get out," said the bird, wagging his tail with fury, for he was very
proud of his genteel appearance; "get out, you old dusky dab, or I shall
kick you. I feel quite disgusted with your appearance. What are you
doing here?"

"Doing?" said the other, rubbing the tears out of his eyes; "doing? why,
getting my living the same way as you do--fly-catching."

"Fly-catching," said the other with a sneer; "how can you catch flies?
Why, you can't run a bit. I suppose you wait till they tumble into your
mouth, don't you? Who are you? What's your name?"

"My name?" said the other; "well, you are not very civil, but I don't
mind telling you. My name's Toad--Brown Toad--and I'd a great deal
rather be such an ugly fellow, as you call me, than a weazen, skinny,
windbeater like you. How do I catch flies? Why, so, my boy; that's how
I catch them," and just then the toad crept to within two or three
inches of a great fly that had settled upon a leaf, darted out his long
tongue, which stuck to the fly, and it was drawn into the toad's great
mouth in an instant. "That's the way I catch flies, my boy, and a
capital way too, isn't it?"

"Hum," said the wagtail, rather astonished at the ease with which the
fly was caught; "it wasn't so bad, certainly; but you know you are
precious ugly. Why, you have no waist."

"Waste!" said the toad, "no, there's no waste about me; it's all useful
what there is of me."

"Ugh! you stupid," said the other; "I mean _waist_ over your hips, where
you ought to wear your belt or sash."

"Oh! ah! I see," said the toad. "No, I've no waist, and don't want
any, but I know a little chap that has; he's a little black and yellow
fellow, who goes buzzing about, making a fine noise, and likes sweet
things; he'd suit you, only he has _such_ a tickler in his tail. His
name's Wops, or Wasp, or something of