A brown head--without hair, without eyes, but with teeth, ever so
many teeth!--seemed to laugh at her; and close to it sat a Toad,
the hugest she had ever seen; and the white skin of his throat
kept puffing out and going in. And Chita screamed and screamed,
and fled in wild terror,--screaming all the way, till Carmen ran
out to meet her and carry her home. Even when safe in her
adopted mother's arms, she sobbed with fright. To the vivid
fancy of the child there seemed to be some hideous relation
between the staring reptile and the brown death's-head, with its
empty eyes, and its nightmare-smile.

The shock brought on a fever,--a fever that lasted several days,
and left her very weak. But the experience taught her to obey,
taught her that Carmen knew best what was for her good. It also
caused her to think a great deal. Carmen had told her that the
dead people never frightened good little girls who stayed at
home.

--"Madrecita Carmen," she asked, "is my mamma dead?"

--"Pobrecita! .... Yes, my angel. God called her to Him,--your
darling mother."

--"Madrecita," she asked again,--her young eyes growing vast
with horror,--"is my own mamma now like That?" ... She pointed
toward the place of the white gleam, behind the great trees.

--"No, no, no! my darling!" cried Carmen, appalled herself by
the ghastly question,--"your mamma is with the dear, good,