He led the way to the stable-yard and there,
drawn out of the coach house into the open,
they saw a gipsy caravan, shining with
newness, painted a canary-yellow picked out
with green, and red wheels.
'There you are!' cried the Toad, straddling
and expanding himself. 'The open road, the
dusty highway, the heath, the common,
the hedgerows, the rolling downs! Camps,
villages, towns, cities! Here today, up and
off to somewhere else tomorrow!'
Kenneth Graham, The Wind in the Willows