And off goes Mr. Toad

`No!' he said, a little sullenly, but stoutly; `I'm NOT sorry. And it wasn't folly at all! It was simply glorious!'

`What?' cried the Badger, greatly scandalised. `You backsliding animal, didn't you tell me just now, in there––––'

`Oh, yes, yes, in THERE,' said Toad impatiently. `I'd have said anything in THERE. You're so eloquent, dear Badger, and so moving, and so convincing, and put all your points so frightfully well – you can do what you like with me in THERE, and you know it. But I've been searching my mind since, and going over things in it, and I find that I'm not a bit sorry or repentant really, so it's no earthly good saying I am; now, is it?'

`Then you don't promise,' said the Badger, `never to touch a motor-car again?'

`Certainly not!' replied Toad emphatically. `On the contrary, I faithfully promise that the very first motor-car I see, poop- poop! off I go in it!'

(Illustrasjon av Michael Hague)

Sympati med de lavere klasser, rett illustrert

Ettersom Dronten, lat som den er, ikke tok seg bryet med å finne en tilstrekkelig egnet illustrasjon til det lille utdraget fra The Wind in the Willows som den gledet sine lesere med for noen poster siden, og ettersom Deerstalker snublet over de tilsynelatende nye sidene til The Kenneth Grahame Society, og ettersom vi er i det illustrative hjørnet her i selskapet i dag, bringer vi her Arthur Rackhams illustrasjon til episoden.

Sympati med de lavere klasser

One morning the girl was very thoughtful, and answered at random, and did not seem to Toad to be paying proper attention to his witty sayings and sparkling comments.

`Toad,' she said presently, `just listen, please. I have an aunt who is a washerwoman.'

`There, there,' said Toad, graciously and affably, `never mind; think no more about it. I have several aunts who ought to be washerwomen.'

Om privatbilismens farer

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!”