on. I know
a man near here who's wanted this horse of mine for years."

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 it him. He thought that he had
never eaten so good a breakfast in all his life.

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.

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 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 whol