himself to his natural emotions. Rearing, plunging, backing
steadily, in spite of all the Mole's efforts at his head, and all
the Mole's
lively language directed at his better feelings, he
drove the cart
backwards towards the deep ditch at the side of
the road. It wavered an
instant--then there was a heartrending
crash--and the canary-coloured cart, their pride and their joy,
lay on its side in the ditch, an irredeemable wreck.
The Rat danced up and down in the road, simply transported with
passion. `You villains!' he shouted, shaking both fists, `You
scoundrels, you highwaymen, you--you--roadhogs!--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" target="_blank" title="ad.无希望地,绝望地">
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!
Horrid little carts--common carts--canary-coloured carts!'
`What are we to do with him?' asked the Mole of the Water Rat.
`Nothing at all,' replied the Rat
firmly. `Because there is
really nothing to be done. You see, I know him from of old. He
is now possessed. He has got a new craze, and it always takes
him that way, in its first stage. He'll continue like that for
days now, like an animal walking in a happy dream, quite useless
for all practical purposes. Never mind him. Let's go and see
what there is to be done about the cart.'
A careful
inspection showed them that, even if they succeeded in
righting it by themselves, the cart would travel no longer. The
axles were in a
hopeless state, and the
missing wheel was
shattered into pieces.
The Rat knotted the horse's reins over his back and took him by
the head, carrying the bird cage and its
hystericaloccupant in
the other hand. `Come on!' he said
grimly to the Mole. `It's
five or six miles to the nearest town, and we shall just have
to walk it. The sooner we make a start the better.'
`But what about Toad?' asked the Mole
anxiously, as they set off
together. `We can't leave him here, sitting in the middle of the
road by himself, in the distracted state he's in! It's not safe.
Supposing another Thing were to come along?'
`O, BOTHER Toad,' said the Rat
savagely; `I've done with him!'