I'm Such A Clever Toad.

The Whole Wood Seemed Running Now, Running Hard, Hunting, Chasing, Closing In Round Something Or - Somebody? In Panic, He Began To Run Too, Aimlessly, He Knew Not Whither.

The Mole Was Bewitched, Entranced, Fascinated. By The Side Of The River He Trotted As One Trots, When Very Small, By The Side Of A Man Who Holds One Spellbound By Exciting Stories; And When Tired At Last, He Sat On The Bank, While The River Still Chattered On To Him, A Babbling Procession Of The Best Stories In The World, Sent From The Heart Of The Earth To Be Told At Last To The Insatiable Sea.

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!

It's Not The Sort Of Night For Bed, Anyhow.

Monkeys Who Very Sensibly Refrain From Speech, Lest They Should Be Set To Earn Their Livings.