With a pleasant swirl of quiet water at its blunt bow the barge slid up alongside of him, its gaily painted gunwale level with the towing-path, its sole occupant a big stout woman wearing a linen sun-bonnet, one brawny arm laid along the tiller.

"A nice morning, ma'am!" she remarked to Toad, as she drew up level with him.

"I dare say it is, ma'am!" responded Toad politely, as he walked along the tow-path abreast of her. "I dare say it is a nice morning to them that's not in sore trouble, like what I- Good lord! Who's that?" And with that the merry hashers from the valley trotted past Mr Toad and along with their floury trail.

And what a jolly jape it was; a whole 4 participants in the pouring rain and howling wind. By some great miracle the four of us made it back alive and didn't even definitely absolutely for sure not get picked up in the car and go back to the pub. Special thanks to LP for the route, and to the pub for the tasty pies!