Once or twice he looked nervously over
his shoulder at the barge-woman, but she appeared to be gazing out in
front of her, absorbed in her steering. His back ached badly, and he
noticed with dismay that his paws were beginning to get all crinkly.
Now Toad was very proud of his paws. He muttered under his breath
words that should never pass the lips of either washerwomen or Toads;
and lost the soap, for the fiftieth time.
A burst of laughter made him straighten himself and look round. The
barge-woman was leaning back and laughing unrestrainedly, till the
tears ran down her cheeks.
'I've been watching you all the time,' she gasped. 'I thought you
must be a humbug all along, from the conceited way you talked. Pretty
washerwoman you are! Never washed so much as a dish-clout in your
life, I'll lay!'
Toad's temper which had been simmering viciously for some time, now
fairly boiled over, and he lost all control of himself.
'You common, low, FAT barge-woman!' he shouted; 'don't you dare to
talk to your betters like that! Washerwoman indeed! I would have you
to know that I am a Toad, a very well-known, respected, distinguished
Toad! I may be under a bit of a cloud at present, but I will NOT be
laughed at by a bargewoman!'
The woman moved nearer to him and peered under his bonnet keenly and
closely.
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