They were fond of Old Mr. Toad , for he was always good-natured and attended strictly to his own affairs ; but they liked to poke fun at him , and as for there being anything beautiful about him , such a thing never entered their heads . Now that they had discovered that he really has a very beautiful voice , they began to look on him with a great deal more respect . This was especially so with Peter . He got in the habit of going over to the Smiling Pool every day , when the way was clear , just to sit on the bank and listen to Old Mr. Toad . `` Why did n't you ever tell us before that you could sing ? '' he asked one day , as Old Mr. Toad looked up at him from the Smiling Pool . `` What was the use of wasting my breath ? '' demanded Old Mr. Toad . `` You would n't have believed me if I had . You did n't believe me when I did tell you . '' Peter knew that this was true , and he could n't find any answer ready . At last he ventured another question . `` Why have n't I ever heard you sing before ? '' `` You have , '' replied Old Mr. Toad tartly . `` I sang right in this very place last spring , and the spring before , and the spring before that . You 've sat on that very bank lots of times while I was singing . The trouble with you , Peter , is that you do n't use your eyes or your ears . '' Peter looked more foolish than ever . But he ventured another question . It would n't be Peter to let a chance for questions go by .
`` Have I ever XXXXX you singing up on the meadows or in the Old Orchard ? ''
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