<SPAN name="X" id="X"></SPAN><h2>X</h2><h2>THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOAD</h2>
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<br/></p>
<p class="cap">THE front door of the hollow tree faced
eastwards, so Toad was called at an early
hour; partly by the bright sunlight streaming
in on him, partly by the exceeding coldness of
his toes, which made him dream that he was
at home in bed in his own handsome room with
the Tudor window, on a cold winter's night,
and his bed-clothes had got up, grumbling and
protesting they couldn't stand the cold any
longer, and had run downstairs to the kitchen
fire to warm themselves; and he had followed,
on bare feet, along miles and miles of icy stone-paved
passages, arguing and beseeching them
to be reasonable. He would probably have
been aroused much earlier, had he not slept
for some weeks on straw over stone flags, and
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<SPAN name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</SPAN></span>
almost forgotten the friendly feeling of thick
blankets pulled well up round the chin.</p>
<p>Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes first and his
complaining toes next, wondered for a moment
where he was, looking round for familiar stone
wall and little barred window; then, with a
leap of the heart, remembered everything—his
escape, his flight, his pursuit; remembered,
first and best thing of all, that he was free!</p>
<p>Free! The word and the thought alone were
worth fifty blankets. He was warm from end
to end as he thought of the jolly world outside,
waiting eagerly for him to make his triumphal
entrance, ready to serve him and play up to
him, anxious to help him and to keep him company,
as it always had been in days of old before
misfortune fell upon him. He shook himself
and combed the dry leaves out of his hair
with his fingers; and, his toilet complete,
marched forth into the comfortable morning sun,
cold but confident, hungry but hopeful, all nervous
terrors of yesterday dispelled by rest and
sleep and frank and heartening sunshine.</p>
<p>He had the world all to himself, that early
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summer morning. The dewy woodland, as he
threaded it, was solitary and still: the green
fields that succeeded the trees were his own to
do as he liked with; the road itself, when he
reached it, in that loneliness that was everywhere,
seemed, like a stray dog, to be looking
anxiously for company. Toad, however, was
looking for something that could talk, and tell
him clearly which way he ought to go. It is all
very well, when you have a light heart, and a
clear conscience, and money in your pocket, and
nobody scouring the country for you to drag
you off to prison again, to follow where the road
beckons and points, not caring whither. The
practical Toad cared very much indeed, and he
could have kicked the road for its helpless
silence when every minute was of importance
to him.</p>
<p>The reserved rustic road was presently joined
by a shy little brother in the shape of a canal,
which took its hand and ambled along by its
side in perfect confidence, but with the same
tongue-tied, uncommunicative attitude towards
<!-- Page 258 --><span class="pagenum">
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strangers. "Bother them!" said Toad to himself.
"But, anyhow, one thing's clear. They
must both be coming <i>from</i> somewhere, and
going <i>to</i> somewhere. You can't get over that,
Toad, my boy!" So he marched on patiently by
the water's edge.</p>
<p>Round a bend in the canal came plodding a
solitary horse, stooping forward as if in anxious
thought. From rope traces attached to his
collar stretched a long line, taut, but dipping
with his stride, the further part of it dripping
pearly drops. Toad let the horse pass, and stood
waiting for what the fates were sending him.</p>
<p>With a pleasant swirl of quiet water at its
blunt bow the barge slid up alongside of him,
its gaily painted gunwale level with the towing-path,
its sole occupant a big stout woman
wearing a linen sun-bonnet, one brawny arm
laid along the tiller.</p>
<p>"A nice morning, ma'am!" she remarked to
Toad, as she drew up level with him.</p>
<p>"I dare say it is, ma'am!" responded Toad
politely, as he walked along the tow-path
abreast of her. "I dare say it is a nice morning
to them that's not in sore trouble, like what I
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<SPAN name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</SPAN></span>
am. Here's my married daughter, she sends off
to me post-haste to come to her at once; so off
I comes, not knowing what may be happening or
going to happen, but fearing the worst, as you
will understand, ma'am, if you're a mother,
too. And I've left my business to look after
itself—I'm in the washing and laundering line,
you must know, ma'am—and I've left my
young children to look after themselves, and a
more mischievous and troublesome set of young
imps doesn't exist, ma'am; and I've lost all
my money, and lost my way, and as for what
may be happening to my married daughter,
why, I don't like to think of it, ma'am!"</p>
<p>"Where might your married daughter be living,
ma'am?" asked the barge-woman.</p>
<p>"She lives near to the river, ma'am," replied
Toad. "Close to a fine house called Toad Hall,
that's somewheres hereabouts in these parts.
Perhaps you may have heard of it."</p>
<p>"Toad Hall? Why, I'm going that way myself,"
replied the barge-woman. "This canal
joins the river some miles further on, a little
above Toad Hall; and then it's an easy walk.
<!-- Page 260 --><span class="pagenum">
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You come along in the barge with me, and I'll
give you a lift."</p>
<p>She steered the barge close to the bank, and
Toad, with many humble and grateful acknowledgments,
stepped lightly on board and sat
down with great satisfaction. "Toad's luck
again!" thought he. "I always come out on
top!"</p>
<p>"So you're in the washing business, ma'am?"
said the barge-woman politely, as they glided
along. "And a very good business you've got
too, I dare say, if I'm not making too free in
saying so."</p>
<p>"Finest business in the whole country," said
Toad airily. "All the gentry come to me—wouldn't
go to any one else if they were paid,
they know me so well. You see, I understand
my work thoroughly, and attend to it all myself.
Washing, ironing, clear-starching, making up
gents' fine shirts for evening wear—everything's
done under my own eye!"</p>
<p>"But surely you don't <i>do</i> all that work yourself,
ma'am?" asked the barge-woman respectfully.
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<p>"O, I have girls," said Toad lightly: "twenty
girls or thereabouts, always at work. But you
know what <i>girls</i> are, ma'am! Nasty little
hussies, that's what <i>I</i> call 'em!"</p>
<p>"So do I, too," said the barge-woman with
great heartiness. "But I dare say you set yours
to rights, the idle trollops! And are you <i>very</i>
fond of washing?"</p>
<p>"I love it," said Toad. "I simply dote on it.
Never so happy as when I've got both arms in
the wash-tub. But, then, it comes so easy to
me! No trouble at all! A real pleasure, I
assure you, ma'am!"</p>
<p>"What a bit of luck, meeting you!" observed
the barge-woman, thoughtfully. "A regular
piece of good fortune for both of us!"</p>
<p>"Why, what do you mean?" asked Toad,
nervously.</p>
<p>"Well, look at me, now," replied the barge-woman.
"<i>I</i> like washing, too, just the same as
you do; and for that matter, whether I like it
or not I have got to do all my own, naturally,
moving about as I do. Now my husband, he's
such a fellow for shirking his work and leaving
<!-- Page 262 --><span class="pagenum">
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the barge to me, that never a moment do I get
for seeing to my own affairs. By rights he
ought to be here now, either steering or attending
to the horse, though luckily the horse has
sense enough to attend to himself. Instead of
which, he's gone off with the dog, to see if they
can't pick up a rabbit for dinner somewhere.
Says he'll catch me up at the next lock. Well,
that's as may be—I don't trust him, once he
gets off with that dog, who's worse than he is.
But meantime, how am I to get on with my
washing?"</p>
<p>"O, never mind about the washing," said
Toad, not liking the subject. "Try and fix your
mind on that rabbit. A nice fat young rabbit,
I'll be bound. Got any onions?"</p>
<p>"I can't fix my mind on anything but my
washing," said the barge-woman, "and I wonder
you can be talking of rabbits, with such a joyful
prospect before you. There's a heap of things
of mine that you'll find in a corner of the cabin.
If you'll just take one or two of the most
necessary sort—I won't venture to describe
them to a lady like you, but you'll recognise
<!-- Page 263 --><span class="pagenum">
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them at a glance—and put them through the
wash-tub as we go along, why, it'll be a pleasure
to you, as you rightly say, and a real help
to me. You'll find a tub handy, and soap, and
a kettle on the stove, and a bucket to haul up
water from the canal with. Then I shall know
you're enjoying yourself, instead of sitting here
idle, looking at the scenery and yawning your
head off."</p>
<p>"Here, you let me steer!" said Toad, now
thoroughly frightened, "and then you can get
on with your washing your own way. I might
spoil your things, or not do 'em as you like.
I'm more used to gentleman's things myself.
It's my special line."</p>
<p>"Let you steer?" replied the barge-woman,
laughing. "It takes some practice to steer a
barge properly. Besides, it's dull work, and I
want you to be happy. No, you shall do the
washing you are so fond of, and I'll stick to
the steering that I understand. Don't try and
deprive me of the pleasure of giving you a
treat!"</p>
<p>Toad was fairly cornered. He looked for
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<SPAN name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</SPAN></span>
escape this way and that, saw that he was too
far from the bank for a flying leap, and sullenly
resigned himself to his fate. "If it comes to
that," he thought in desperation, "I suppose
any fool can <i>wash</i>!"</p>
<p>He fetched tub, soap, and other necessaries
from the cabin, selected a few garments at random,
tried to recollect what he had seen in
casual glances through laundry windows, and
set to.</p>
<p>A long half-hour passed, and every minute of
it saw Toad getting crosser and crosser. Nothing
that he could do to the things seemed to
please them or do them good. He tried coaxing,
he tried slapping, he tried punching; they
smiled back at him out of the tub unconverted,
happy in their original sin. Once or twice he
looked nervously over his shoulder at the barge-woman,
but she appeared to be gazing out in
front of her, absorbed in her steering. His back
ached badly, and he noticed with dismay that
his paws were beginning to get all crinkly. Now
Toad was very proud of his paws. He muttered
under his breath words that should never pass
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<SPAN name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</SPAN></span>
the lips of either washerwomen or Toads; and
lost the soap, for the fiftieth time.</p>
<p>A burst of laughter made him straighten himself
and look round. The barge-woman was
leaning back and laughing unrestrainedly, till
the tears ran down her cheeks.</p>
<p>"I've been watching you all the time," she
gasped. "I thought you must be a humbug
all along, from the conceited way you talked.
Pretty washerwoman you are! Never washed
so much as a dish-clout in your life, I'll lay!"</p>
<p>Toad's temper, which had been simmering
viciously for some time, now fairly boiled over,
and he lost all control of himself.</p>
<p>"You common, low, <i>fat</i> barge-woman!" he
shouted; "don't you dare to talk to your betters
like that! Washerwoman indeed! I would
have you to know that I am a Toad, a very
well-known, respected, distinguished Toad! I
may be under a bit of a cloud at present, but
I will <i>not</i> be laughed at by a barge-woman!"</p>
<p>The woman moved nearer to him and peered
under his bonnet keenly and closely. "Why,
so you are!" she cried. "Well, I never! A
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horrid, nasty, crawly Toad! And in my nice
clean barge, too! Now that is a thing that I
will <i>not</i> have."</p>
<p>She relinquished the tiller for a moment. One
big, mottled arm shot out and caught Toad by
a fore-leg, while the other gripped him fast by
a hind-leg. Then the world turned suddenly
upside down, the barge seemed to flit lightly
across the sky, the wind whistled in his ears,
and Toad found himself flying through the air,
revolving rapidly as he went.</p>
<p>The water, when he eventually reached it
with a loud splash, proved quite cold enough
for his taste, though its chill was not sufficient
to quell his proud spirit, or slake the heat of
his furious temper. He rose to the surface
spluttering, and when he had wiped the duck-weed
out of his eyes the first thing he saw was
the fat barge-woman looking back at him over
the stern of the retreating barge and laughing;
and he vowed, as he coughed and choked, to be
even with her.</p>
<p>He struck out for the shore, but the cotton
gown greatly impeded his efforts, and when at
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length he touched land he found it hard to climb
up the steep bank unassisted. He had to take
a minute or two's rest to recover his breath;
then, gathering his wet skirts well over his
arms, he started to run after the barge as fast as
his legs would carry him, wild with indignation,
thirsting for revenge.</p>
<p>The barge-woman was still laughing when he
drew up level with her. "Put yourself through
your mangle, washerwoman," she called out,
"and iron your face and crimp it, and you'll
pass for quite a decent-looking Toad!"</p>
<p>Toad never paused to reply. Solid revenge
was what he wanted, not cheap, windy, verbal
triumphs, though he had a thing or two in his
mind that he would have liked to say. He saw
what he wanted ahead of him. Running swiftly
on he overtook the horse, unfastened the tow-rope
and cast off, jumped lightly on the horse's
back, and urged it to a gallop by kicking it
vigorously in the sides. He steered for the
open country, abandoning the tow-path, and
swinging his steed down a rutty lane. Once he
looked back, and saw that the barge had run
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aground on the other side of the canal, and
the barge-woman was gesticulating wildly and
shouting, "Stop, stop, stop!" "I've heard that
song before," said Toad, laughing, as he continued
to spur his steed onward in its wild career.</p>
<p>The barge-horse was not capable of any very
sustained effort, and its gallop soon subsided
into a trot, and its trot into an easy walk; but
Toad was quite contented with this, knowing
that he, at any rate, was moving, and the barge
was not. He had quite recovered his temper,
now that he had done something he thought
really clever; and he was satisfied to jog along
quietly in the sun, steering his horse along
by-ways and bridle-paths, and trying to forget
how very long it was since he had had a square
meal, till the canal had been left very far behind
him.</p>
<p>He had travelled some miles, his horse and
he, and he was feeling drowsy in the hot sunshine,
when the horse stopped, lowered his head,
and began to nibble the grass; and Toad, waking
up, just saved himself from falling off by an
effort. He looked about him and found he was
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on a wide common, dotted with patches of
gorse and bramble as far as he could see. Near
him stood a dingy gipsy caravan, and beside it
a man was sitting on a bucket turned upside
down, very busy smoking and staring into the
wide world. A fire of sticks was burning near
by, and over the fire hung an iron pot, and out
of that pot came forth bubblings and gurglings,
and a vague suggestive steaminess. Also smells—warm,
rich, and varied smells—that twined
and twisted and wreathed themselves at last
into one complete, voluptuous, perfect smell
that seemed like the very soul of Nature taking
form and appearing to her children, a true Goddess,
a mother of solace and comfort. Toad
now knew well that he had not been really
hungry before. What he had felt earlier in the
day had been a mere trifling qualm. This was
the real thing at last, and no mistake; and it
would have to be dealt with speedily, too, or
there would be trouble for somebody or something.
He looked the gipsy over carefully, wondering
vaguely whether it would be easier to
fight him or cajole him. So there he sat, and
<!-- Page 270 --><span class="pagenum">
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sniffed and sniffed, and looked at the gipsy;
and the gipsy sat and smoked, and looked at
him.</p>
<p>Presently the gipsy took his pipe out of his
mouth and remarked in a careless way, "Want
to sell that there horse of yours?"</p>
<p>Toad was completely taken aback. He did
not know that gipsies were very fond of horse-dealing,
and never missed an opportunity, and
he had not reflected that caravans were always
on the move and took a deal of drawing. It
had not occurred to him to turn the horse into
cash, but the gipsy's suggestion seemed to
smooth the way towards the two things he
wanted so badly—ready money, and a solid
breakfast.</p>
<p>"What?" he said, "me sell this beautiful
young horse of mine? O, no; it's out of the
question. Who's going to take the washing
home to my customers every week? Besides,
I'm too fond of him, and he simply dotes on
me."</p>
<p>"Try and love a donkey," suggested the
gipsy. "Some people do."
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<p>"You don't seem to see," continued Toad,
"that this fine horse of mine is a cut above you
altogether. He's a blood horse, he is, partly;
not the part you see, of course—another part.
And he's been a Prize Hackney, too, in his time—that
was the time before you knew him, but
you can still tell it on him at a glance, if you
understand anything about horses. No, it's
not to be thought of for a moment. All the
same, how much might you be disposed to offer
me for this beautiful young horse of mine?"</p>
<p>The gipsy looked the horse over, and then he
looked Toad over with equal care, and looked
at the horse again. "Shillin' a leg," he said
briefly, and turned away, continuing to smoke
and try to stare the wide world out of countenance.</p>
<p>"A shilling a leg?" cried Toad. "If you
please, I must take a little time to work that
out, and see just what it comes to."</p>
<p>He climbed down off his horse, and left it to
graze, and sat down by the gipsy, and did sums
on his fingers, and at last he said, "A shilling a
leg? Why, that comes to exactly four shillings,
<!-- Page 272 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</SPAN></span>
and no more. O, no; I could not think of
accepting four shillings for this beautiful young
horse of mine."</p>
<p>"Well," said the gipsy, "I'll tell you what
I will do. I'll make it five shillings, and
that's three-and-sixpence more than the animal's
worth. And that's my last word."</p>
<p>Then Toad sat and pondered long and
deeply. For he was hungry and quite penniless,
and still some way—he knew not how far—from
home, and enemies might still be looking
for him. To one in such a situation, five shillings
may very well appear a large sum of
money. On the other hand, it did not seem
very much to get for a horse. But then, again,
the horse hadn't cost him anything; so whatever
he got was all clear profit. At last he said
firmly, "Look here, gipsy! I tell you what we
will do; and this is <i>my</i> last word. You shall
hand me over six shillings and sixpence, cash
down; and further, in addition thereto, you
shall give me as much breakfast as I can possibly
eat, at one sitting of course, out of that
iron pot of yours that keeps sending forth such
<!-- Page 273 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</SPAN></span>
delicious and exciting smells. In return, I will
make over to you my spirited young horse, with
all the beautiful harness and trappings that are
on him, freely thrown in. If that's not good
enough for you, say so, and I'll be getting on.
I know a man near here who's wanted this
horse of mine for years."</p>
<p>The gipsy grumbled frightfully, and declared
if he did a few more deals of that sort he'd be
ruined. But in the end he lugged a dirty canvas
bag out of the depths of his trouser pocket,
and counted out six shillings and sixpence into
Toad's paw. Then he disappeared into the
caravan for an instant, and returned with a
large iron plate and a knife, fork, and spoon.
He tilted up the pot, and a glorious stream of
hot, rich stew gurgled into the plate. It was,
indeed, the most beautiful stew in the world,
being made of partridges, and pheasants, and
chickens, and hares, and rabbits, and peahens,
and guinea-fowls, and one or two other things.
Toad took the plate on his lap, almost crying,
and stuffed, and stuffed, and stuffed, and kept
asking for more, and the gipsy never grudged
<!-- Page 274 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</SPAN></span>
it him. He thought that he had never eaten
so good a breakfast in all his life.</p>
<p>When Toad had taken as much stew on board
as he thought he could possibly hold, he got up
and said good-bye to the gipsy, and took an
affectionate farewell of the horse; and the gipsy,
who knew the riverside well, gave him directions
which way to go, and he set forth on his
travels again in the best possible spirits. He
was, indeed, a very different Toad from the
animal of an hour ago. The sun was shining
brightly, his wet clothes were quite dry again,
he had money in his pocket once more, he was
nearing home and friends and safety, and, most
and best of all, he had had a substantial meal,
hot and nourishing, and felt big, and strong, and
careless, and self-confident.</p>
<p>As he tramped along gaily, he thought of his
adventures and escapes, and how when things
seemed at their worst he had always managed
to find a way out; and his pride and conceit
began to swell within him. "Ho, ho!" he said
to himself, as he marched along with his chin
in the air, "what a clever Toad I am! There
<!-- Page 275 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</SPAN></span>
is surely no animal equal to me for cleverness
in the whole world! My enemies shut me up
in prison, encircled by sentries, watched night
and day by warders; I walk out through them
all, by sheer ability coupled with courage.
They pursue me with engines, and policemen,
and revolvers; I snap my fingers at them, and
vanish, laughing, into space. I am, unfortunately,
thrown into a canal by a woman fat of
body and very evil-minded. What of it? I
swim ashore, I seize her horse, I ride off in
triumph, and I sell the horse for a whole pocketful
of money and an excellent breakfast! Ho,
ho! I am The Toad, the handsome, the popular,
the successful Toad!" He got so puffed up
with conceit that he made up a song as he
walked in praise of himself, and sang it at the
top of his voice, though there was no one to
hear it but him. It was, perhaps, the most
conceited song that any animal ever composed.</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">"The world has held great Heroes,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">As history-books have showed;<br/></span>
<span class="i2">But never a name to go down to fame<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Compared with that of Toad!<br/></span>
<!-- Page 276 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</SPAN></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">"The clever men at Oxford<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Know all that there is to be knowed.<br/></span>
<span class="i2">But they none of them know one half as much<br/></span>
<span class="i4">As intelligent Mr. Toad!<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">"The animals sat in the Ark and cried,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Their tears in torrents flowed.<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Who was it said, 'There's land ahead?'<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Encouraging Mr. Toad!<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">"The army all saluted<br/></span>
<span class="i4">As they marched along the road.<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Was it the King? Or Kitchener?<br/></span>
<span class="i4">No. It was Mr. Toad.<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">"The Queen and her Ladies-in-waiting<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Sat at the window and sewed.<br/></span>
<span class="i2">She cried, 'Look! who's that <i>handsome</i> man?'<br/></span>
<span class="i4">They answered, 'Mr. Toad.'"<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza"></div>
</div>
<p>There was a great deal more of the same
sort, but too dreadfully conceited to be written
down. These are some of the milder verses.</p>
<p>He sang as he walked, and he walked as he
sang, and got more inflated every minute. But
his pride was shortly to have a severe fall.</p>
<p>After some miles of country lanes he reached
the high road, and as he turned into it and
<!-- Page 277 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</SPAN></span>
glanced along its white length, he saw approaching
him a speck that turned into a dot and then
into a blob, and then into something very
familiar; and a double note of warning, only
too well known, fell on his delighted ear.</p>
<p>"This is something like!" said the excited
Toad. "This is real life again, this is once
more the great world from which I have been
missed so long! I will hail them, my brothers
of the wheel, and pitch them a yarn, of the
sort that has been so successful hitherto; and
they will give me a lift, of course, and then I
will talk to them some more; and, perhaps,
with luck, it may even end in my driving up
to Toad Hall in a motor-car! That will be
one in the eye for Badger!"</p>
<p>He stepped confidently out into the road to
hail the motor-car, which came along at an easy
pace, slowing down as it neared the lane; when
suddenly he became very pale, his heart turned
to water, his knees shook and yielded under him,
and he doubled up and collapsed with a sickening
pain in his interior. And well he might, the
unhappy animal; for the approaching car was
the very one he had stolen out of the yard of
<!-- Page 278 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</SPAN></span>
the Red Lion Hotel on that fatal day when all
his troubles began! And the people in it were
the very same people he had sat and watched
at luncheon in the coffee-room!</p>
<p>He sank down in a shabby, miserable heap
in the road, murmuring to himself in his despair,
"It's all up! It's all over now! Chains and
policemen again! Prison again! Dry bread and
water again! O, what a fool I have been!
What did I want to go strutting about the
country for, singing conceited songs, and hailing
people in broad day on the high road, instead
of hiding till nightfall and slipping home
quietly by back ways! O hapless Toad! O
ill-fated animal!"</p>
<p>The terrible motor-car drew slowly nearer and
nearer, till at last he heard it stop just short of
him. Two gentlemen got out and walked round
the trembling heap of crumpled misery lying in
the road, and one of them said, "O dear! this
is very sad! Here is a poor old thing—a washerwoman
apparently—who has fainted in the
road! Perhaps she is overcome by the heat,
poor creature; or possibly she has not had any
<!-- Page 279 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</SPAN></span>
food to-day. Let us lift her into the car and
take her to the nearest village, where doubtless
she has friends."</p>
<p>They tenderly lifted Toad into the motor-car
and propped him up with soft cushions, and
proceeded on their way.</p>
<p>When Toad heard them talk in so kind and
sympathetic a way, and knew that he was not
recognised, his courage began to revive, and he
cautiously opened first one eye and then the
other.</p>
<p>"Look!" said one of the gentlemen, "she is
better already. The fresh air is doing her good.
How do you feel now, ma'am?"</p>
<p>"Thank you kindly, sir," said Toad in a
feeble voice, "I'm feeling a great deal better!"
"That's right," said the gentleman. "Now
keep quite still, and, above all, don't try to
talk."</p>
<p>"I won't," said Toad. "I was only thinking,
if I might sit on the front seat there, beside
the driver, where I could get the fresh air full
in my face, I should soon be all right again."</p>
<p>"What a very sensible woman!" said the
<!-- Page 280 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</SPAN></span>
gentleman. "Of course you shall." So they
carefully helped Toad into the front seat beside
the driver, and on they went again.</p>
<p>Toad was almost himself again by now. He
sat up, looked about him, and tried to beat
down the tremors, the yearnings, the old cravings
that rose up and beset him and took possession
of him entirely.</p>
<p>"It is fate!" he said to himself. "Why strive?
why struggle?" and he turned to the driver at
his side.</p>
<p>"Please, Sir," he said, "I wish you would
kindly let me try and drive the car for a little.
I've been watching you carefully, and it looks
so easy and so interesting, and I should like
to be able to tell my friends that once I had
driven a motor-car!"</p>
<p>The driver laughed at the proposal, so heartily
that the gentleman inquired what the matter
was. When he heard, he said, to Toad's delight,
"Bravo, ma'am! I like your spirit. Let her
have a try, and look after her. She won't do
any harm."</p>
<p>Toad eagerly scrambled into the seat vacated
<!-- Page 281 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</SPAN></span>
by the driver, took the steering-wheel in his
hands, listened with affected humility to the
instructions given him, and set the car in motion,
but very slowly and carefully at first, for
he was determined to be prudent.</p>
<p>The gentlemen behind clapped their hands
and applauded, and Toad heard them saying,
"How well she does it! Fancy a washerwoman
driving a car as well as that, the first time!"</p>
<p>Toad went a little faster; then faster still,
and faster.</p>
<p>He heard the gentlemen call out warningly,
"Be careful, washerwoman!" And this annoyed
him, and he began to lose his head.</p>
<p>The driver tried to interfere, but he pinned
him down in his seat with one elbow, and put
on full speed. The rush of air in his face,
the hum of the engines, and the light jump of
the car beneath him intoxicated his weak brain.
"Washerwoman, indeed!" he shouted recklessly.
"Ho! ho! I am the Toad, the motor-car
snatcher, the prison-breaker, the Toad who
always escapes! Sit still, and you shall know
what driving really is, for you are in the hands
<!-- Page 282 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</SPAN></span>
of the famous, the skilful, the entirely fearless
Toad!"</p>
<p>With a cry of horror the whole party rose
and flung themselves on him. "Seize him!"
they cried, "seize the Toad, the wicked animal
who stole our motor-car! Bind him, chain
him, drag him to the nearest police station!
Down with the desperate and dangerous
Toad!"</p>
<p>Alas! they should have thought, they ought
to have been more prudent, they should have
remembered to stop the motor-car somehow
before playing any pranks of that sort. With
a half-turn of the wheel the Toad sent the car
crashing through the low hedge that ran along
the roadside. One mighty bound, a violent
shock, and the wheels of the car were churning
up the thick mud of a horse-pond.</p>
<p>Toad found himself flying through the air
with the strong upward rush and delicate curve
of a swallow. He liked the motion, and was
just beginning to wonder whether it would go
on until he developed wings and turned into a
Toad-bird, when he landed on his back with a
<!-- Page 283 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</SPAN></span>
thump, in the soft, rich grass of a meadow.
Sitting up, he could just see the motor-car in
the pond, nearly submerged; the gentlemen
and the driver, encumbered by their long coats,
were floundering helplessly in the water.</p>
<p>He picked himself up rapidly, and set off
running across country as hard as he could,
scrambling through hedges, jumping ditches,
pounding across fields, till he was breathless and
weary, and had to settle down into an easy
walk. When he had recovered his breath somewhat,
and was able to think calmly, he began to
giggle, and from giggling he took to laughing,
and he laughed till he had to sit down under a
hedge. "Ho! ho!" he cried, in ecstasies of self-admiration.
"Toad again! Toad, as usual,
comes out on the top! Who was it got them
to give him a lift? Who managed to get on
the front seat for the sake of fresh air? Who
persuaded them into letting him see if he could
drive? Who landed them all in a horse-pond?
Who escaped, flying gaily and unscathed through
the air, leaving the narrow-minded, grudging,
timid excursionists in the mud where they
<!-- Page 284 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</SPAN></span>
should rightly be? Why, Toad, of course;
clever Toad, great Toad, <i>good</i> Toad!"</p>
<p>Then he burst into song again, and chanted
with uplifted voice—</p>
<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"></div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i1">"The motor-car went Poop-poop-poop,<br/></span>
<span class="i4">As it raced along the road.<br/></span>
<span class="i2">Who was it steered it into a pond?<br/></span>
<span class="i4">Ingenious Mr. Toad!<br/></span></div>
<div class="stanza"></div>
</div>
<p>O, how clever I am! How clever, how clever,
how very clev—"</p>
<p>A slight noise at a distance behind him made
him turn his head and look. O horror! O
misery! O despair!</p>
<p>About two fields off, a chauffeur in his leather
gaiters and two large rural policemen were
visible, running towards him as hard as they
could go!</p>
<p>Poor Toad sprang to his feet and pelted away
again, his heart in his mouth. "O, my!" he
gasped, as he panted along, "what an <i>ass</i> I am!
What a <i>conceited</i> and heedless ass! Swaggering
again! Shouting and singing songs again! Sitting
still and gassing again! O my! O my!
O my!"
<!-- Page 285 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>He glanced back, and saw to his dismay that
they were gaining on him. On he ran desperately,
but kept looking back, and saw that they
still gained steadily. He did his best, but he
was a fat animal, and his legs were short, and
still they gained. He could hear them close
behind him now. Ceasing to heed where he
was going, he struggled on blindly and wildly,
looking back over his shoulder at the now triumphant
enemy, when suddenly the earth failed
under his feet, he grasped at the air, and,
splash! he found himself head over ears in deep
water, rapid water, water that bore him along
with a force he could not contend with; and he
knew that in his blind panic he had run straight
into the river!</p>
<p>He rose to the surface and tried to grasp
the reeds and the rushes that grew along the
water's edge close under the bank, but the
stream was so strong that it tore them out of
his hands. "O my!" gasped poor Toad, "if
ever I steal a motor-car again! If ever I sing
another conceited song"—then down he went,
<!-- Page 286 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</SPAN></span>
and came up breathless and spluttering. Presently
he saw that he was approaching a big
dark hole in the bank, just above his head, and
as the stream bore him past he reached up with
a paw and caught hold of the edge and held
on. Then slowly and with difficulty he drew
himself up out of the water, till at last he was
able to rest his elbows on the edge of the hole.
There he remained for some minutes, puffing
and panting, for he was quite exhausted.</p>
<p>As he sighed and blew and stared before him
into the dark hole, some bright small thing
shone and twinkled in its depths, moving towards
him. As it approached, a face grew up
gradually around it, and it was a familiar face!</p>
<p>Brown and small, with whiskers.</p>
<p>Grave and round, with neat ears and silky
hair.</p>
<p>It was the Water Rat!
<!-- Page 287 --><span class="pagenum">
<SPAN name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />