Mole and Rat turned to, quietly and manfully, and while the Rat saw to
the horse, and lit a fire, and cleaned last night's cups and platters,
and got things ready for breakfast, the Mole trudged off to the
nearest village, a long way off, for milk and eggs and various
necessaries the Toad had, of course, forgotten to provide. The hard
work had all been done, and the two animals were resting, thoroughly
exhausted, by the time Toad appeared on the scene, fresh and gay,
remarking what a pleasant easy life it was they were all leading now,
after the cares and worries and fatigues of housekeeping at home.

They had a pleasant ramble that day over grassy downs and along narrow
by-lanes, and camped as before, on a common, only this time the two
guests took care that Toad should do his fair share of work. In
consequence, when the time came for starting next morning, Toad was by
no means so rapturous about the simplicity of the primitive life, and
indeed attempted to resume his place in his bunk, whence he was hauled
by force. Their way lay, as before, across country by narrow lanes,
and it was not till the afternoon that they came out on the high-road,
their first high-road; and there disaster, fleet and unforeseen,
sprang out on them--disaster momentous indeed to their expedition, but
simply overwhelming in its effect on the after-career of Toad.

They were strolling along the high-road easily, the Mole by the
horse's head, talking to him, since the horse had complained that he
was being frightfully left out of it, and nobody considered him in the
least; the Toad and the Water Rat walking behind the cart talking
together--at least Toad was talking, and Rat was saying at intervals,
'Yes, precisely; and what did YOU say to HIM?'--and thinking all the
time of something very different, when far behind them they heard a
faint warning hum; like the drone of a distant bee. Glancing back,