hwaymen, you--you--road-hogs!--I'll have the law of you! I'll report
you! I'll take you through all the Courts!" His home-sickness had quite
slipped away from him, and for the moment he was the skipper of the
canary-coloured vessel driven on a shoal by the reckless jockeying of
rival mariners, and he was trying to recollect all the fine and biting
things he used to say to masters of steam-launches when their wash, as
they drove too near the bank, used to flood his parlour-carpet at home.

Toad sat straight down in the middle of the dusty road, his legs
stretched out before him, and stared fixedly in the direction of the
disappearing motor-car. He breathed short, his face wore a placid,
satisfied expression, and at intervals he faintly murmured "Poop-poop!"

The Mole was busy trying to quiet the horse, which he succeeded in
doing after a time. Then he went to look at the cart, on its side in
the ditch. It was indeed a sorry sight. Panels and windows smashed,
axles hopelessly bent, one wheel off, sardine-tins scattered over the
wide world, and the bird in the bird-cage sobbing pitifully and
calling to be let out.

The Rat came to help him, but their united efforts were not sufficient
to right the cart. "Hi! Toad!" they cried. "Come and bear a hand,
can't you!"

The Toad never answered a word, or budged from his seat in the road;
so they went to see what was the matter with him. They found him in a
sort of a trance, a happy smile on his face, his eyes still fixed on
the dusty wake of their destroyer. At intervals he was still heard to
murmur "Poop-poop!"

The Rat shook him by the shoulder. "Are you coming to help us, Toad?"
he demanded sternly.

"Glorious, stirring sight!" murmured Toad, never offering to move.
"The poetry of motion! The _real_ way to travel! The _only_ way to
travel! Here to-day--in next week to-morrow! Villages skipped, towns
and cities jumped--always somebody else's horizon! O bliss! O
poop-poop! O my! O my!"

"O _stop_ being an ass, Toad!" cried the Mole despairingly.

"And to think I never _knew_!" went on the Toad in a dreamy monotone.
"All those wasted years that lie behind me, I never knew, never even
_dreamt_! But _now_--but now that I know, now that I fully realise! O
what a flowery track lies spread before me, henceforth! What
dust-clouds shall spring up behind me as I speed on my reckless way!
What carts I shall fling carelessly into the ditch in the wake of my
magnificent onset! Horr