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 barge-woman!”

The woman moved nearer to him and peered under his bonnet keenly and closely. “Why, so you are!” she cried. “Well, I never! A horrid, nasty, crawly Toad! And in my nice clean barge, too! Now that is a thing that I will not have.”