Rascal was a demon for speed. Weighing two pounds at most, this absurd and lovable little creature had the heart of a lion. He had learned to stand in the closely woven wire basket with his feet wide apart and his hands firmly gripping the front rim, his small button of a nose pointed straight into the wind, and his ring tail streaming back like the plume of a hunting dog that has come to a point. The most amusing aspect of his racing costume was his natural black goggles around his bright eyes, making him look like Barney Oldfield coming down the home stretch. What he liked best was going full tilt down a steep hill. It worried him slightly when I had to work hard, pumping up the next hill, the front wheel woggling from side to side to keep the bicycle in balance. But as we picked up speed again his confidence returned, and he would peer ahead like the engineer leaning from the cab window of Old Ninety-Nine.

Q. Underline one of the two references which refer to Rascal's state of mind.