The words of a comic song--
"Paddington groan-worst ever known
He gave a sepulchral Paddington groan--"
came into his head, and he sped incontinently back to Reading station.
All the way up to London and down to Wansdon he sat with "The Heart
of the Trail" open on his knee, knitting in his head a poem so full of
feeling that it would not rhyme.