It certainly did appear so, and of all the songs that glad spring day there
was none sweeter. Indeed there were few as sweet. The only trouble was the
song was so very short. It lasted only for two or three seconds. And when
it ended, Old Mr. Toad looked quite his natural self again; just as
commonplace, almost ugly, as ever. Peter looked at Jimmy Skunk, Jimmy
looked at Unc' Billy Possum, and Unc' Billy looked at Peter. And no one had
a word to say. Then all three looked back at Old Mr. Toad.

And even as they looked, his throat began to swell and swell and swell,
until it was no wonder that Jimmy Skunk had thought that he was in danger
of blowing up. And then, when it stopped swelling, there came again those
beautiful little notes, so sweet and tremulous that Peter actually held his
breath to listen. There was no doubt that Old Mr. Toad was singing just as
he had said he was going to, and it was just as true that his song was one
of the sweetest if not _the_ sweetest of all the chorus from and around the
Smiling Pool. It was very hard to believe, but Peter and Jimmy and Unc'
Billy both saw and heard, and that was enough. Their respect for Old Mr.
Toad grew tremendously as they listened.

"How does he do it?" whispered Peter.

"With that bag under his chin, of course," replied Jimmy Skunk. "Don't you
see it's only when that is swelled out that he sings? It's a regular music
bag. And I didn't know he had any such bag there at all."

"I wish," said Peter Rabbit, feeling of his throat, "that I had a music bag
like that in my throat."

And then he joined in the laugh of Jimmy and Unc' Billy, but still with