A Story of Singular Power
That Holds You Spellbound
to the Last Word
THE TOAD
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I WORKED for him, I lackeyed him, I stooped and cringed at his every behest; yet how I hated him! Well I knew the passions that warred within my heart, and I felt the pain that told how deeply I hated my master. Yet there remained a something which multiplied my hatred ten-fold—I knew not why I hated him!
At first there seemed a clashing of our guardian spirits, a dumb combat, a struggle soul to soul, a sharp rout, victory! and his soul always won. And I slunk back in baffled defeat, stung by his easy aplomb, cowed by his overriding will. Then my rancor flamed! For the dull-witted fellow, despite that I shook with rage, did not even sense my ever-present hatred. But laughed in happy abandon, his lips purring a joyful hum, and frolicked about and chucked me under the chin—even as I was on fire, and being consumed with hatred!
While I fawned and smiled and danced at his orders, I was murdering him in my mind.
"Get my spectacles, Gaston!"
"Very good sir," said I, as I mentally pushed him off a cliff.
"Gaston," a little later, "my shoestring has loosened. Latch it up."
"Certainly sir!" I replied, as I buried my teeth in his leg.
"Tie my tie, Gaston!"
"Yes sir," I said, as I strangled him to death.
By such diversion—it was serious, deadly serious to me—did I make my early servitude tolerable. But there came a time when my mind, stimulated though it was, could devise no new methods of wreaking my master’s downfall.
Then I was beside myself with despair.
My master loved no man, or woman, or child. But all the love within him went out to his toad. It was a great toad, more ponderous than a fowl, and far uglier than any other of that ugly race. Long folds of sickly skin drooped from its stunted frame. And bristling on that unhealthy surface was every manner of hills, valleys, volcanoes, all twisted and contorted as by a fiendish hand. Thin rivers of slime ran athwart its frame. It poisoned the air with its presence.
But this perfection of ugliness was marred by the eyes. Wondrous jewels of light, aflame with love and understanding, they sought the realm of the spirit, they cried for God and eternity. Thus, while its repulsive self made me loathe the toad, those eyes struck me
