Peter thought this over for a few minutes before he ventured another
question. "I begin to understand," said he, "but how do you hold on to the
bug with your tongue?"

"My tongue is sticky, of course, Mr. Stupid," replied Old Mr. Toad, looking
very much disgusted. "Just let me touch a bug with it, and he's mine every
time."

Peter thought this over. Then he felt of his own tongue. "Mine isn't
sticky," said he very innocently.

Old Mr. Toad laughed right out. "Perhaps if it was, you couldn't ask so
many questions," said he. "Now watch me catch that fly." His funny little
tongue darted out, and the fly was gone.

[Illustration: His funny little tongue darted out, and the fly was gone.]

"It certainly is very handy," said Peter politely. "I think we are going to
have more rain, and I'd better be getting back to the dear Old Briarpatch.
Very much obliged to you, Mr. Toad. I think you are very wonderful."

"Not at all," replied Old Mr. Toad. "I've simply got the things I need in
order to live, just as you have the things you need. I couldn't get along
with your kind of a tongue, but no more could you get along with mine. If
you live long enough, you will learn that Old Mother Nature makes no
mistakes. She gives each of us what we need, and each one has different
needs."