esides, I'm too fond of him, and he simply
dotes on me."

"Try and love a donkey," suggested the gipsy. "Some people do."

"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?"

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.

"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."

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, and no
more. O, no; I could not think of accepting four shillings for this
beautiful young horse of mine."

"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."

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 _my_ 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 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