It's my special line.'
'Let you steer?' replied the barge-woman, laughing. 'It takes some
practice to steer a barge properly. Besides, it's dull work, and I
want you to be happy. No, you shall do the washing you are so fond
of, and I'll stick to the steering that I understand. Don't try and
deprive me of the pleasure of giving you a treat!'
Toad was fairly cornered. He looked for escape this way and that, saw
that he was too far from the bank for a flying leap, and sullenly
resigned himself to his fate. 'If it comes to that,' he thought in
desperation, 'I suppose any fool can WASH!'
He fetched tub, soap, and other necessaries from the cabin, selected a
few garments at random, tried to recollect what he had seen in casual
glances through laundry windows, and set to.
A long half-hour passed, and every minute of it saw Toad getting
crosser and crosser. Nothing that he could do to the things seemed to
please them or do them good. He tried coaxing, he tried slapping, he
tried punching; they smiled back at him out of the tub unconverted,
happy in their original sin.
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