他們慢悠悠地走在大馬路上，鼴鼠走在前面和馬說著話，原因是馬抱怨自己被所有人冷落，誰都沒有好好關心過他。蟾蜍和河鼠走在馬車的後面，一起說著話兒——正確地說，是蟾蜍說話，河鼠偶爾應聲：「是，沒錯、沒錯，那你怎麼跟他說呢？」其實他一直在想著別的事。這時，從他們身後傳來一種微弱的響聲，像是遠處蜜蜂的嗡嗡聲，彷彿正警示著前方。他們回頭一看，只見路上捲起一團塵煙，中間有一顆黑點正以驚人的速度向他們奔來，從煙塵中發出一種「刷——刷——」的響聲，活像一隻動物在痛苦呻吟。他們沒有把這些放在心上，繼續說著他們的話。然而，頃刻間，寧靜就被打破了。一陣猛烈的風和巨大的聲響使他們急忙跳進路邊的水溝裏，那東西向他們撲了過來！「刷——刷——」的響聲震耳欲聾，慌亂中，他們終於看清那是一輛氣派到令人倒抽一口氣的汽車，汽車裏的駕駛員正全神貫注地緊握著方向盤。這個龐然大物從他們身邊飛馳而過，捲起一陣濃濃的灰塵，把他們團團圍住，使他們睜不開眼睛。很快地，汽車又變成了遠處的一個小黑點，越走越遠的嗡嗡聲，就此慢慢地消失了。
彼時，那匹灰色的老馬正一邊慢悠悠地邁步，一邊做夢，彷彿自己仍在寧靜舒適的馬場裏。因此面對這般意料之外的突發狀況，他猝不及防並且大亂陣腳。他一會向上高舉前蹄，一會向前猛烈俯衝，接著又逐步向後倒退。儘管鼴鼠拼命地拽著韁繩制止他失控的舉動，一面好聲好氣地安撫他、使他冷靜，仍舊徒勞無功。他執意向後退，硬生生地將大篷車往路邊的深溝裏推去。車身瞬間大力搖晃，隨之而來的即是一陣驚天動地的碎裂聲。這輛淡黃色的大篷車，與他們的驕傲和喜悅同在的高級馬車，就這樣側躺在深溝中，成了一堆支離破碎的殘骸。
河鼠氣得直跳腳，怒不可遏地說：「你們這群惡棍！」他握緊雙拳，破口大罵：「你們這群壞胚子、你們這群強盜，你們這群——你們這群——路霸！我要訴諸法律！我要舉發你們！我要把你們通通告上法院！」他的思鄉病頓時消失得無影無蹤，此時的他成為淡黃色船艦的船長，而敵方船隻正魯莽地橫衝直撞，將他的船艦強逼上淺灘。他一個勁兒地道出自己過去對蒸汽船船長說過的刻薄言詞，因為那些人總是把船駛得過份靠岸，掀起的水花經常淹濕他家客廳地毯的緣故。
蟾蜍傻楞楞地坐在漫天塵土的路中央，雙腿僵硬地向前伸直，目光定格在那輛汽車消失的方向。他呼吸急促但一臉平靜與滿足，並且每隔一段時間就嘟起雙唇，輕聲地發出「刷——刷——」的聲響。
鼴鼠忙著撫慰老灰馬，過了好一會才讓他的情緒緩和下來。接著他上前巡視那輛橫臥在深溝的大篷車，它的下場真是令人目不忍睹：不僅門窗全部碎裂，車軸更是彎得看不出原貌；其中一個輪子還從車體上脫落，原本在車內的沙丁魚罐頭亦散落各處。最慘的是賞鳥籠裏的鳥，他正可憐兮兮地不斷啜泣，哭求他們釋放自己。
河鼠上前協助鼴鼠，不過，即便他倆再努力也沒法扶起大篷車。「喂，蟾蜍！」他們齊聲喊道，「過來一起幫忙抬車，行嗎！」
蟾蜍悶不吭聲，一動也不動地坐在路中央，他們只好前去察看蟾蜍的狀況。他們發現蟾蜍坐在那一臉陶醉不已的模樣，雙眼緊盯著前方漫天的飛塵，嘴裏不時喃喃地發出「刷——刷——」的聲響。
河鼠雙手使勁地搖動蟾蜍的雙肩，厲聲問道：「蟾蜍！你到底要不要過來幫忙？」
「多麼璀璨耀眼又鼓舞人心的場面啊！」蟾蜍嘀咕著，身體卻一動也不動。「如此詩意的移動方式！這才是真正的旅遊！絕無僅有的旅遊！今天在這，明天就在那，從一座村莊開往下座村莊，從一座城鎮瞬移到另一座城鎮——永遠流轉在不同人的視野之中！哦，幸福！哦，刷刷！哦，天啊！哦，我的天啊！」
「哦，不要再做蠢事了，蟾蜍！」鼴鼠無奈地喊道。
「我對這東西一無所知！」蟾蜍不斷地低聲囈語著，「我究竟虛擲了多少光陰？我作夢也想不到，世上有這般逸品的存在。但現在——我明白了，現在我完全開悟了！哦，從今往後，在我面前鋪展的，該是多麼光輝燦爛的美好前程！當我在道路上縱橫馳騁時，身後將揚起多少滾滾沙塵啊！我會毫不在意地將所有馬車推下深溝。哼，令人生厭的小馬車！哼，平凡無奇的馬車！哼，淡黃色的馬車！」
鼴鼠問河鼠：「我們該拿他如何是好？」
「一點辦法也沒有，」河鼠直接了當地說，「一直以來都是一點辦法也沒有，我認識他這麼久了，還不懂他嗎？他現在就是失心瘋。又著迷於新玩意了！他總是如此狂熱，這還只是第一階段呢。他將一連好幾天都是如此，就像一隻遊蕩在美夢裏的動物，在現實中完全派不上用場。別管他就是。我倆還是去看看該如何處理那輛大篷車吧！」
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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, they saw a small cloud of dust, with a dark centre of energy, advancing on them at incredible speed, while from out the dust a faint “Poop-poop!” wailed like an uneasy animal in pain. Hardly regarding it, they turned to resume their conversation, when in an instant (as it seemed) the peaceful scene was changed, and with a blast of wind and a whirl of sound that made them jump for the nearest ditch, It was on them! The “Poop-poop” rang with a brazen shout in their ears, they had a moment’s glimpse of an interior of glittering plate-glass and rich morocco, and the magnificent motor-car, immense, breath-snatching, passionate, with its pilot tense and hugging his wheel, possessed all earth and air for the fraction of a second, flung an enveloping cloud of dust that blinded and enwrapped them utterly, and then dwindled to a speck in the far distance, changed back into a droning bee once more.
The old grey horse, dreaming, as he plodded along, of his quiet paddock, in a new raw situation such as this simply abandoned himself to his natural emotions. Rearing, plunging, backing steadily, in spite of all the Mole’s efforts at his head, and all the Mole’s lively language directed at his better feelings, he drove the cart backwards towards the deep ditch at the side of the road. It wavered an instant—then there was a heartrending crash—and the canary-coloured cart, their pride and their joy, lay on its side in the ditch, an irredeemable wreck.
The Rat danced up and down in the road, simply transported with passion. “You villains!” he shouted, shaking both fists, “You scoundrels, you highwaymen, you—you—roadhogs!—I’ll have the law of you! I’ll report you! I’ll take you through all the Courts!” His home-sickness had quite slipped away from him, and for the moment he was the skipper of the canary-coloured vessel driven on a shoal by the reckless jockeying of rival mariners, and he was trying to recollect all the fine and biting things he used to say to masters of steam-launches when their wash, as they drove too near the bank, used to flood his parlour-carpet at home.
Toad sat straight down in the middle of the dusty road, his legs stretched out before him, and stared fixedly in the direction of the disappearing motor-car. He breathed short, his face wore a placid satisfied expression, and at intervals he faintly murmured “Poop-poop!”
The Mole was busy trying to quiet the horse, which he succeeded in doing after a time. Then he went to look at the cart, on its side in the ditch. It was indeed a sorry sight. Panels and windows smashed, axles hopelessly bent, one wheel off, sardine-tins scattered over the wide world, and the bird in the bird-cage sobbing pitifully and calling to be let out.
The Rat came to help him, but their united efforts were not sufficient to right the cart. “Hi! Toad!” they cried. “Come and bear a hand, can’t you!”
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! But now—but now that I know, now that I fully realise! 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! Horrid little carts—common carts—canary-coloured carts!”
“What are we to do with him?” asked the Mole of the Water Rat.
“Nothing at all,” replied the Rat firmly. “Because there is really nothing to be done. You see, I know him from of old. He is now possessed. He has got a new craze, and it always takes him that way, in its first stage. He’ll continue like that for days now, like an animal walking in a happy dream, quite useless for all practical purposes. Never mind him. Let’s go and see what there is to be done about the cart.”
2024專利防護中