The Wind in the Willows ....................................................................................................................................1

Kenneth Grahame....................................................................................................................................1

THE Mole had been working very hard all the morning, springcleaning his little home. First with brooms,

then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust

in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms.

Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and

lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly

flung down his brush on the floor, said `Bother!' and `O blow!' and also `Hang springcleaning!' and bolted

out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously,

and he made for the steep little tunnel which answered in his case to the gravelled carriagedrive owned by

animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and

scrooged and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little

paws and muttering to himself, `Up we go! Up we go!' till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight,

`This is fine!' he said to himself. `This is better than whitewashing!' The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft

breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion of the cellarage he had lived in so long the carol of

happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of

living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till he reached the

`Hold up!' said an elderly rabbit at the gap. `Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!' He was

bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge

chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about.

`Onionsauce! Onionsauce!' he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly

satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. `How stupid you are! Why didn't you tell

him ' `Well, why didn't you say ' `You might have reminded him ' and so on, in the usual

It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the

hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting

everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him

and whispering `whitewash!' he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to be the only idle dog among all

these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see

He thought his happiness was complete when, as he meandered aimlessly along, suddenly he stood by the

edge of a fullfed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before this sleek, sinuous, fullbodied

animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on

fresh playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was ashake and ashiver

glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble. The Mole was bewitched, entranced,

fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds

one spellbound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered

on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at

As he sat on the grass and looked across the river, a dark hole in the bank opposite, just above the water's

edge, caught his eye, and dreamily he fell to considering what a nice snug dwellingplace it would make for

an animal with few wants and fond of a bijo riverside residence, above flood level and remote from noise and

dust. As he gazed, something bright and small seemed to twinkle down in the heart of it, vanished, then

twinkled once more like a tiny star. But it could hardly be a star in such an unlikely situation; and it was too

glittering and small for a glowworm. Then, as he looked, it winked at him, and so declared itself to be an

eye; and a small face began gradually to grow up round it, like a frame round a picture.

A grave round face, with the same twinkle in its eye that had first attracted his notice.

`Oh, its all very well to talk,' said the Mole, rather pettishly, he being new to a river and riverside life and its

The Rat said nothing, but stooped and unfastened a rope and hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little

boat which the Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for

two animals; and the Mole's whole heart went out to it at once, even though he did not yet fully understand its

The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up his forepaw as the Mole stepped gingerly

down. `Lean on that!' he said. `Now then, step lively!' and the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself

`This has been a wonderful day!' said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. `Do you know,

`What?' cried the Rat, openmouthed: `Never been in a you never well I what have you been

`Is it so nice as all that?' asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in

his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat

`Nice? It's the only thing,' said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. `Believe me, my

young friend, there is nothing absolute nothing half so much worth doing as simply messing about in

It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt. The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the

` about in boats or with boats,' the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh.

`In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it. Whether you get

away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or

whether you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and

when you've done it there's always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better

not. Look here! If you've really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop down the river

The Mole waggled his toes from sheer happiness, spread his chest with a sigh of full contentment, and leaned

back blissfully into the soft cushions. `What a day I'm having!' he said. `Let us start at once!'

`Hold hard a minute, then!' said the Rat. He looped the painter through a ring in his landingstage, climbed

up into his hole above, and after a short interval reappeared staggering under a fat, wicker luncheonbasket.

`Shove that under your feet,' he observed to the Mole, as he passed it down into the boat. Then he untied the

`Do you really think so?' enquired the Rat seriously. `It's only what I always take on these little excursions;

and the other animals are always telling me that I'm a mean beast and cut it very fine!'

The Mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with

the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight, he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed

long waking dreams. The Water Rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily on and forebore to

`I like your clothes awfully, old chap,' he remarked after some half an hour or so had passed. `I'm going to get

`I beg your pardon,' said the Mole, pulling himself together with an effort. `You must think me very rude; but

`By it and with it and on it and in it,' said the Rat. `It's brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and

food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It's my world, and I don't want any other. What it hasn't got is not

worth having, and what it doesn't know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we've had together! Whether in

winter or summer, spring or autumn, it's always got its fun and its excitements. When the floods are on in

February, and my cellars and basement are brimming with drink that's no good to me, and the brown water

runs by my best bedroom window; or again when it all drops away and, shows patches of mud that smells

like plumcake, and the rushes and weed clog the channels, and I can potter about dry shod over most of the

bed of it and find fresh food to eat, and things careless people have dropped out of boats!'

`But isn't it a bit dull at times?' the Mole ventured to ask. `Just you and the river, and no one else to pass a

`No one else to well, I mustn't be hard on you,' said the Rat with forbearance. `You're new to it, and of

course you don't know. The bank is so crowded nowadays that many people are moving away altogether: O

no, it isn't what it used to be, at all. Otters, kingfishers, dabchicks, moorhens, all of them about all day long

and always wanting you to do something as if a fellow had no business of his own to attend to!'

`What lies over there?' asked the Mole, waving a paw towards a background of woodland that darkly framed

`That? O, that's just the Wild Wood,' said the Rat shortly. `We don't go there very much, we riverbankers.'

`Aren't they aren't they very nice people in there?' said the Mole, a trifle nervously.

`Well,' replied the Rat, `let me see. The squirrels are all right. And the rabbits some of 'em, but rabbits

are a mixed lot. And then there's Badger, of course. He lives right in the heart of it; wouldn't live anywhere

else, either, if you paid him to do it. Dear old Badger! Nobody interferes with him. They'd better not,' he

`Well, of course there are others,' explained the Rat in a hesitating sort of way.

`Weasels and stoats and foxes and so on. They're all right in a way I'm very good friends with

them pass the time of day when we meet, and all that but they break out sometimes, there's no denying

The Mole knew well that it is quite against animaletiquette to dwell on possible trouble ahead, or even to

`And beyond the Wild Wood again?' he asked: `Where it's all blue and dim, and one sees what may be hills or

perhaps they mayn't, and something like the smoke of towns, or is it only clouddrift?'

`Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wide World,' said the Rat. `And that's something that doesn't matter,

either to you or me. I've never been there, and I'm never going, nor you either, if you've got any sense at all.

Don't ever refer to it again, please. Now then! Here's our backwater at last, where we're going to lunch.'

Leaving the main stream, they now passed into what seemed at first sight like a little land locked lake.

Green turf sloped down to either edge, brown snaky treeroots gleamed below the surface of the quiet water,

while ahead of them the silvery shoulder and foamy tumble of a weir, arminarm with a restless dripping

millwheel, that held up in its turn a greygabled millhouse, filled the air with a soothing murmur of sound,

dull and smothery, yet with little clear voices speaking up cheerfully out of it at intervals. It was so very

beautiful that the Mole could only hold up both forepaws and gasp, `O my! O my! O my!'

The Rat brought the boat alongside the bank, made her fast, helped the still awkward Mole safely ashore, and

swung out the luncheonbasket. The Mole begged as a favour to be allowed to unpack it all by himself; and

the Rat was very pleased to indulge him, and to sprawl at full length on the grass and rest, while his excited

friend shook out the tablecloth and spread it, took out all the mysterious packets one by one and arranged

their contents in due order, still gasping, `O my! O my!' at each fresh revelation. When all was ready, the Rat

said, `Now, pitch in, old fellow!' and the Mole was indeed very glad to obey, for he had started his

springcleaning at a very early hour that morning, as people will do, and had not paused for bite or sup; and

he had been through a very great deal since that distant time which now seemed so many days ago.

`What are you looking at?' said the Rat presently, when the edge of their hunger was somewhat dulled, and

`I am looking,' said the Mole, `at a streak of bubbles that I see travelling along the surface of the water. That

`Bubbles? Oho!' said the Rat, and chirruped cheerily in an inviting sort of way.

A broad glistening muzzle showed itself above the edge of the bank, and the Otter hauled himself out and

`Greedy beggars!' he observed, making for the provender. `Why didn't you invite me, Ratty?'

`This was an impromptu affair,' explained the Rat. `By the way my friend Mr. Mole.'

`Such a rumpus everywhere!' continued the Otter. `All the world seems out on the river today. I came up

this backwater to try and get a moment's peace, and then stumble upon you fellows! At least I beg

There was a rustle behind them, proceeding from a hedge wherein last year's leaves still clung thick, and a

The Badger trotted forward a pace or two; then grunted, `H'm! Company,' and turned his back and

`That's just the sort of fellow he is!' observed the disappointed Rat. `Simply hates Society! Now we shan't see

`Toad's out, for one,' replied the Otter. `In his brandnew wagerboat; new togs, new everything!'

`Once, it was nothing but sailing,' said the Rat, `Then he tired of that and took to punting. Nothing would

please him but to punt all day and every day, and a nice mess he made of it. Last year it was houseboating,

and we all had to go and stay with him in his houseboat, and pretend we liked it. He was going to spend the

rest of his life in a houseboat. It's all the same, whatever he takes up; he gets tired of it, and starts on

`Such a good fellow, too,' remarked the Otter reflectively: `But no stability especially in a boat!'

From where they sat they could get a glimpse of the main stream across the island that separated them; and

just then a wagerboat flashed into view, the rower a short, stout figure splashing badly and rolling a

good deal, but working his hardest. The Rat stood up and hailed him, but Toad for it was he shook his

`He'll be out of the boat in a minute if he rolls like that,' said the Rat, sitting down again.

`Of course he will,' chuckled the Otter. `Did I ever tell you that good story about Toad and the lockkeeper?

An errant Mayfly swerved unsteadily athwart the current in the intoxicated fashion affected by young

bloods of Mayflies seeing life. A swirl of water and a `cloop!' and the Mayfly was visible no more.

The Mole looked down. The voice was still in his ears, but the turf whereon he had sprawled was clearly

The Rat hummed a tune, and the Mole recollected that animaletiquette forbade any sort of comment on the

sudden disappearance of one's friends at any moment, for any reason or no reason whatever.

`Well, well,' said the Rat, `I suppose we ought to be moving. I wonder which of us had better pack the

Packing the basket was not quite such pleasant work as unpacking' the basket. It never is. But the Mole was

bent on enjoying everything, and although just when he had got the basket packed and strapped up tightly he

saw a plate staring up at him from the grass, and when the job had been done again the Rat pointed out a fork

which anybody ought to have seen, and last of all, behold! the mustard pot, which he had been sitting on

without knowing it still, somehow, the thing got finished at last, without much loss of temper.

The afternoon sun was getting low as the Rat sculled gently homewards in a dreamy mood, murmuring

poetrythings over to himself, and not paying much attention to Mole. But the Mole was very full of lunch,

and selfsatisfaction, and pride, and already quite at home in a boat (so he thought) and was getting a bit

The Rat shook his head with a smile. `Not yet, my young friend,' he said 'wait till you've had a few

The Mole was quiet for a minute or two. But he began to feel more and more jealous of Rat, sculling so

strongly and so easily along, and his pride began to whisper that he could do it every bit as well. He jumped

up and seized the sculls, so suddenly, that the Rat, who was gazing out over the water and saying more

poetrythings to himself, was taken by surprise and fell backwards off his seat with his legs in the air for the

second time, while the triumphant Mole took his place and grabbed the sculls with entire confidence.

`Stop it, you silly ass!' cried the Rat, from the bottom of the boat. `You can't do it! You'll have us over!'

The Mole flung his sculls back with a flourish, and made a great dig at the water. He missed the surface

altogether, his legs flew up above his head, and he found himself lying on the top of the prostrate Rat. Greatly

O my, how cold the water was, and O, how very wet it felt. How it sang in his ears as he went down, down,

down! How bright and welcome the sun looked as he rose to the surface coughing and spluttering! How black

was his despair when he felt himself sinking again! Then a firm paw gripped him by the back of his neck. It

was the Rat, and he was evidently laughing the Mole could feel him laughing, right down his arm and

The Rat got hold of a scull and shoved it under the Mole's arm; then he did the same by the other side of him

and, swimming behind, propelled the helpless animal to shore, hauled him out, and set him down on the

When the Rat had rubbed him down a bit, and wrung some of the wet out of him, he said, `Now, then, old

fellow! Trot up and down the towingpath as hard as you can, till you're warm and dry again, while I dive for

So the dismal Mole, wet without and ashamed within, trotted about till he was fairly dry, while the Rat

plunged into the water again, recovered the boat, righted her and made her fast, fetched his floating property

to shore by degrees, and finally dived successfully for the luncheonbasket and struggled to land with it.

When all was ready for a start once more, the Mole, limp and dejected, took his seat in the stern of the boat;

and as they set off, he said in a low voice, broken with emotion, `Ratty, my generous friend! I am very sorry

indeed for my foolish and ungrateful conduct. My heart quite fails me when I think how I might have lost that

beautiful luncheonbasket. Indeed, I have been a complete ass, and I know it. Will you overlook it this once

`That's all right, bless you!' responded the Rat cheerily. `What's a little wet to a Water Rat? I'm more in the

water than out of it most days. Don't you think any more about it; and, look here! I really think you had better

come and stop with me for a little time. It's very plain and rough, you know not like Toad's house at all

but you haven't seen that yet; still, I can make you comfortable. And I'll teach you to row, and to swim, and

The Mole was so touched by his kind manner of speaking that he could find no voice to answer him; and he

had to brush away a tear or two with the back of his paw. But the Rat kindly looked in another direction, and

presently the Mole's spirits revived again, and he was even able to give some straight backtalk to a couple of

When they got home, the Rat made a bright fire in the parlour, and planted the Mole in an armchair in front

of it, having fetched down a dressinggown and slippers for him, and told him river stories till suppertime.

Very thrilling stories they were, too, to an earthdwelling animal like Mole. Stories about weirs, and sudden

floods, and leaping pike, and steamers that flung hard bottles at least bottles were certainly flung, and

from steamers, so presumably by them; and about herons, and how particular they were whom they spoke to;

and about adventures down drains, and nightfishings with Otter, or excursions far afield with Badger.

Supper was a most cheerful meal; but very shortly afterwards a terribly sleepy Mole had to be escorted

upstairs by his considerate host, to the best bedroom, where he soon laid his head on his pillow in great peace

and contentment, knowing that his newfound friend the River was lapping the sill of his window.

This day was only the first of many similar ones for the emancipated Mole, each of them longer and full of

interest as the ripening summer moved onward. He learnt to swim and to row, and entered into the joy of

running water; and with his ear to the reedstems he caught, at intervals, something of what the wind went

`RATTY,' said the Mole suddenly, one bright summer morning, `if you please, I want to ask you a favour.'

The Rat was sitting on the river bank, singing a little song. He had just composed it himself, so he was very

taken up with it, and would not pay proper attention to Mole or anything else. Since early morning he had

been swimming in the river, in company with his friends the ducks. And when the ducks stood on their heads

suddenly, as ducks will, he would dive down and tickle their necks, justunder where their chins would be if

ducks had chins, till they were forced tocome to the surface again in a hurry, spluttering and angry and

shakingtheir feathers at him, for it is impossible to say quite all you feel when your head is under water. At

last they implored him to go away and attend to his own affairs and leave them to mind theirs. So the Rat

went away, and sat on the river bank in the sun, and made up a song about them, which he called

`I don't know that I think so very much of that little song, Rat,' observed the Mole cautiously. He was no poet

`Nor don't the ducks neither,' replied the Rat cheerfully. `They say, "Why can't fellows be allowed to do what

they like when they like and as they like, instead of other fellows sitting on banks and watching them all the

time and making remarks and poetry and things about them? What nonsense it all is!" That's what the ducks

`Well then, it isn't, it isn't,' replied the Mole soothingly. `But what I wanted to ask you was, won't you take

me to call on Mr. Toad? I've heard so much about him, and I do so want to make his acquaintance.'

`Why, certainly,' said the goodnatured Rat, jumping to his feet and dismissing poetry from his mind for the

day. `Get the boat out, and we'll paddle up there at once. It's never the wrong time to call on Toad. Early or

late he's always the same fellow. Always goodtempered, always glad to see you, always sorry when you go!'

`He must be a very nice animal,' observed the Mole, as he got into the boat and took the sculls, while the Rat

`He is indeed the best of animals,' replied Rat. `So simple, so goodnatured, and so affectionate. Perhaps he's

not very clever we can't all be geniuses; and it may be that he is both boastful and conceited. But he has

Rounding a bend in the river, they came in sight of a handsome, dignified old house of mellowed red brick,

`There's Toad Hall,' said the Rat; `and that creek on the left, where the noticeboard says, "Private. No

landing allowed," leads to his boathouse, where we'll leave the boat. The stables are over there to the right.

That's the banquetinghall you're looking at now very old, that is. Toad is rather rich, you know, and this

is really one of the nicest houses in these parts, though we never admit as much to Toad.'

They glided up the creek, and the Mole slipped his sculls as they passed into the shadow of a large

boathouse. Here they saw many handsome boats, slung from the cross beams or hauled up on a slip, but

The Rat looked around him. `I understand,' said he. `Boating is played out. He's tired of it, and done with it. I

wonder what new fad he has taken up now? Come along and let's look him up. We shall hear all about it quite

They disembarked, and strolled across the gay flowerdecked lawns in search of Toad, whom they presently

happened upon resting in a wicker gardenchair, with a preoccupied expression of face, and a large map

`Hooray!' he cried, jumping up on seeing them, `this is splendid!' He shook the paws of both of them warmly,

never waiting for an introduction to the Mole. `How kind of you!' he went on, dancing round them. `I was

just going to send a boat down the river for you, Ratty, with strict orders that you were to be fetched up here

at once, whatever you were doing. I want you badly both of you. Now what will you take? Come inside

`Let's sit quiet a bit, Toady!' said the Rat, throwing himself into an easy chair, while the Mole took another by

`Finest house on the whole river,' cried Toad boisterously. `Or anywhere else, for that matter,' he could not

Here the Rat nudged the Mole. Unfortunately the Toad saw him do it, and turned very red. There was a

moment's painful silence. Then Toad burst out laughing. `All right, Ratty,' he said. `It's only my way, you

know. And it's not such a very bad house, is it? You know you rather like it yourself. Now, look here. Let's be

sensible. You are the very animals I wanted. You've got to help me. It's most important!'

`It's about your rowing, I suppose,' said the Rat, with an innocent air. `You're getting on fairly well, though

you splash a good bit still. With a great deal of patience, and any quantity of coaching, you may '

`O, pooh! boating!' interrupted the Toad, in great disgust. Silly boyish amusement. I've given that up long

ago. Sheer waste of time, that's what it is. It makes me downright sorry to see you fellows, who ought to

know better, spending all your energies in that aimless manner. No, I've discovered the real thing, the only

genuine occupation for a life time. I propose to devote the remainder of mine to it, and can only regret the

wasted years that lie behind me, squandered in trivialities. Come with me, dear Ratty, and your amiable

friend also, if he will be so very good, just as far as the stableyard, and you shall see what you shall see!'

He led the way to the stableyard accordingly, the Rat following with a most mistrustful expression; and

there, drawn out of the coach house into the open, they saw a gipsy caravan, shining with newness, painted a

`There you are!' cried the Toad, straddling and expanding himself. `There's real life for you, embodied in that

little cart. 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! Travel, change,

interest, excitement! The whole world before you, and a horizon that's always changing! And mind! this is

the very finest cart of its sort that was ever built, without any exception. Come inside and look at the

The Mole was tremendously interested and excited, and followed him eagerly up the steps and into the

interior of the caravan. The Rat only snorted and thrust his hands deep into his pockets, remaining where he

It was indeed very compact and comfortable. Little sleeping bunks a little table that folded up against the

wall a cookingstove, lockers, bookshelves, a birdcage with a bird in it; and pots, pans, jugs and kettles

`All complete!' said the Toad triumphantly, pulling open a locker. `You see biscuits, potted lobster,

sardines everything you can possibly want. Sodawater here baccy there letterpaper, bacon, jam,

cards and dominoes you'll find,' he continued, as they descended the steps again, `you'll find that nothing

`I beg your pardon,' said the Rat slowly, as he chewed a straw, `but did I overhear you say something about

`Now, you dear good old Ratty,' said Toad, imploringly, `don't begin talking in that stiff and sniffy sort of

way, because you know you've got to come. I can't possibly manage without you, so please consider it settled,

and don't argue it's the one thing I can't stand. You surely don't mean to stick to your dull fusty old river

all your life, and just live in a hole in a bank, and boat? I want to show you the world! I'm going to make an

`I don't care,' said the Rat, doggedly. `I'm not coming, and that's flat. And I am going to stick to my old river,

and live in a hole, and boat, as I've always done. And what's more, Mole's going to stick me and do as I do,

`Of course I am,' said the Mole, loyally. `I'll always stick to you, Rat, and what you say is to be has got to

be. All the same, it sounds as if it might have been well, rather fun, you know!' he added, wistfully. Poor

Mole! The Life Adventurous was so new a thing to him, and so thrilling; and this fresh aspect of it was so

tempting; and he had fallen in love at first sight with the canarycoloured cart and all its little fitments.

The Rat saw what was passing in his mind, and wavered. He hated disappointing people, and he was fond of

the Mole, and would do almost anything to oblige him. Toad was watching both of them closely.

`Come along in, and have some lunch,' he said, diplomatically, `and we'll talk it over. We needn't decide

anything in a hurry. Of course, I don't really care. I only want to give pleasure to you fellows. "Live for

During luncheon which was excellent, of course, as everything at Toad Hall always was the Toad

simply let himself go. Disregarding the Rat, he proceeded to play upon the inexperienced Mole as on a harp.

Naturally a voluble animal, and always mastered by his imagination, he painted the prospects of the trip and

the joys of the open life and the road side in such glowing colours that the Mole could hardly sit in his chair

for excitement. Somehow, it soon seemed taken for granted by all three of them that the trip was a settled

thing; and the Rat, though still unconvinced in his mind, allowed his goodnature to override his personal

objections. He could not bear to disappoint his two friends, who were already deep in schemes and

anticipations, planning out each day's separate occupation for several weeks ahead.

When they were quite ready, the now triumphant Toad led his companions to the paddock and set them to

capture the old grey horse, who, without having been consulted, and to his own extreme annoyance, had been

told off by Toad for the dustiest job in this dusty expedition. He frankly preferred the paddock, and took a

deal of catching. Meantime Toad packed the lockers still tighter with necessaries, and hung nosebags, nets of

onions, bundles of hay, and baskets from the bottom of the cart. At last the horse was caught and harnessed,

and they set off, all talking at once, each animal either trudging by the side of the cart or sitting on the shaft,

as the humour took him. It was a golden afternoon. The smell of the dust they kicked up was rich and

satisfying; out of thick orchards on either side the road, birds called and whistled to them cheerily;

goodnatured wayfarers, passing them, gave them `Goodday,' or stopped to say nice things about their

beautiful cart; and rabbits, sitting at their front doors in the hedgerows, held up their forepaws, and said, `O

Late in the evening, tired and happy and miles from home, they drew up on a remote common far from

habitations, turned the horse loose to graze, and ate their simple supper sitting on the grass by the side of the

cart. Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come, while stars grew fuller and larger all

around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep

them company and listen to their talk. At last they turned in to their little bunks in the cart; and Toad, kicking

out his legs, sleepily said, `Well, good night, you fellows! This is the real life for a gentleman! Talk about

`I don't talk about my river,' replied the patient Rat. `You know I don't, Toad. But I think about it,' he added

The Mole reached out from under his blanket, felt for the Rat's paw in the darkness, and gave it a squeeze.

`I'll do whatever you like, Ratty,' he whispered. `Shall we run away tomorrow morning, quite early very

`No, no, we'll see it out,' whispered back the Rat. `Thanks awfully, but I ought to stick by Toad till this trip is

ended. It wouldn't be safe for him to be left to himself. It won't take very long. His fads never do. Good

After so much open air and excitement the Toad slept very soundly, and no amount of shaking could rouse

him out of bed next morning. So the Mole and Rat turned to, quietly and manfully, and while the Rat saw to

the horse, and lit a fire, and cleaned last night's cups and platters, and got things ready for breakfast, the Mole

trudged off to the nearest village, a long way off, for milk and eggs and various necessaries the Toad had, of

course, forgotten to provide. The hard work had all been done, and the two animals were resting, thoroughly

exhausted, by the time Toad appeared on the scene, fresh and gay, remarking what a pleasant easy life it was

they were all leading now, after the cares and worries and fatigues of housekeeping at home.

They had a pleasant ramble that day over grassy downs and along narrow bylanes, and camped as before, on

a common, only this time the two guests took care that Toad should do his fair share of work. In

consequence, when the time came for starting next morning, Toad was by no means so rapturous about the

simplicity of the primitive life, and indeed attempted to resume his place in his bunk, whence he was hauled

by force. Their way lay, as before, across country by narrow lanes, and it was not till the afternoon that they

came out on the highroad, their first highroad; and there disaster, fleet and unforeseen, sprang out on them

disaster momentous indeed to their expedition, but simply overwhelming in its effect on the aftercareer

They were strolling along the highroad easily, the Mole by the horse's head, talking to him, since the horse

had complained that he was being frightfully left out of it, and nobody considered him in the least; the Toad

and the Water Rat walking behind the cart talking together at least Toad was talking, and Rat was saying

at intervals, `Yes, precisely; and what did you say to him?' and thinking all the time of something very

different, when far behind them they heard a faint warning hum; like the drone of a distant bee. Glancing

back, they saw a small cloud of dust, with a dark centre of energy, advancing on them at incredible speed,

while from out the dust a faint `Pooppoop!' wailed like an uneasy animal in pain. Hardly regarding it, they

turned to resume their conversation, when in an instant (as it seemed) the peaceful scene was changed, and

with a blast of wind and a whirl of sound that made them jump for the nearest ditch, It was on them! The

`Pooppoop' rang with a brazen shout in their ears, they had a moment's glimpse of an interior of glittering

plateglass and rich morocco, and the magnificent motorcar, immense, breathsnatching, passionate, with

its pilot tense and hugging his wheel, possessed all earth and air for the fraction of a second, flung an

enveloping cloud of dust that blinded and enwrapped them utterly, and then dwindled to a speck in the far

The old grey horse, dreaming, as he plodded along, of his quiet paddock, in a new raw situation such as this

simply abandoned himself to his natural emotions. Rearing, plunging, backing steadily, in spite of all the

Mole's efforts at his head, and all the Mole's lively language directed at his better feelings, he drove the cart

backwards towards the deep ditch at the side of the road. It wavered an instant then there was a

heartrending crash and the canarycoloured cart, their pride and their joy, lay on its side in the ditch, an

The Rat danced up and down in the road, simply transported with passion. `You villains!' he shouted, shaking

both fists, `You scoundrels, you highwaymen, you you roadhogs! I'll have the law of you! I'll

report you! I'll take you through all the Courts!' His homesickness had quite slipped away from him, and for

the moment he was the skipper of the canarycoloured vessel driven on a shoal by the reckless jockeying of

rival mariners, and he was trying to recollect all the fine and biting things he used to say to masters of

steamlaunches when their wash, as they drove too near the bank, used to flood his parlourcarpet at home.

Toad sat straight down in the middle of the dusty road, his legs stretched out before him, and stared fixedly in

the direction of the disappearing motorcar. He breathed short, his face wore a placid satisfied expression,

The Mole was busy trying to quiet the horse, which he succeeded in doing after a time. Then he went to look

at the cart, on its side in the ditch. It was indeed a sorry sight. Panels and windows smashed, axles hopelessly

bent, one wheel off, sardinetins scattered over the wide world, and the bird in the birdcage sobbing

The Rat came to help him, but their united efforts were not sufficient to right the cart. `Hi! Toad!' they cried.

The Toad never answered a word, or budged from his seat in the road; so they went to see what was the

matter with him. They found him in a sort of a trance, a happy smile on his face, his eyes still fixed on the

dusty wake of their destroyer. At intervals he was still heard to murmur `Pooppoop!'

The Rat shook him by the shoulder. `Are you coming to help us, Toad?' he demanded sternly.

`Glorious, stirring sight!' murmured Toad, never offering to move. `The poetry of motion! The real way to

travel! The only way to travel! Here today in next week tomorrow! Villages skipped, towns and cities

`And to think I never knew!' went on the Toad in a dreamy monotone. `All those wasted years that lie behind

me, I never knew, never even dreamt! But now but now that I know, now that I fully realise! O what a

flowery track lies spread before me, henceforth! What dustclouds shall spring up behind me as I speed on

my reckless way! What carts I shall fling carelessly into the ditch in the wake of my magnificent onset!

`Nothing at all,' replied the Rat firmly. `Because there is really nothing to be done. You see, I know him from

of old. He is now possessed. He has got a new craze, and it always takes him that way, in its first stage. He'll

continue like that for days now, like an animal walking in a happy dream, quite useless for all practical

purposes. Never mind him. Let's go and see what there is to be done about the cart.'

A careful inspection showed them that, even if they succeeded in righting it by themselves, the cart would

travel no longer. The axles were in a hopeless state, and the missing wheel was shattered into pieces.

The Rat knotted the horse's reins over his back and took him by the head, carrying the bird cage and its

hysterical occupant in the other hand. `Come on!' he said grimly to the Mole. `It's five or six miles to the

nearest town, and we shall just have to walk it. The sooner we make a start the better.'

`But what about Toad?' asked the Mole anxiously, as they set off together. `We can't leave him here, sitting in

the middle of the road by himself, in the distracted state he's in! It's not safe. Supposing another Thing were

They had not proceeded very far on their way, however, when there was a pattering of feet behind them, and

Toad caught them up and thrust a paw inside the elbow of each of them; still breathing short and staring into

`Now, look here, Toad!' said the Rat sharply: `as soon as we get to the town, you'll have to go straight to the

policestation, and see if they know anything about that motorcar and who it belongs to, and lodge a

complaint against it. And then you'll have to go to a blacksmith's or a wheelwright's and arrange for the cart

to be fetched and mended and put to rights. It'll take time, but it's not quite a hopeless smash. Meanwhile, the

Mole and I will go to an inn and find comfortable rooms where we can stay till the cart's ready, and till your

`Policestation! Complaint!'murmured Toad dreamily. `Me complain of that beautiful, that heavenly vision

that has been vouchsafed me! Mend the cart! I've done with carts for ever. I never want to see the cart, or to

hear of it, again. O, Ratty! You can't think how obliged I am to you for consenting to come on this trip! I

wouldn't have gone without you, and then I might never have seen that that swan, that sunbeam, that

thunderbolt! I might never have heard that entrancing sound, or smelt that bewitching smell! I owe it all to

The Rat turned from him in despair. `You see what it is?' he said to the Mole, addressing him across Toad's

head: `He's quite hopeless. I give it up when we get to the town we'll go to the railway station, and with

luck we may pick up a train there that'll get us back to riverbank tonight. And if ever you catch me going

He snorted, and during the rest of that weary trudge addressed his remarks exclusively to Mole.

On reaching the town they went straight to the station and deposited Toad in the secondclass waitingroom,

giving a porter twopence to keep a strict eye on him. They then left the horse at an inn stable, and gave what

directions they could about the cart and its contents. Eventually, a slow train having landed them at a station

not very far from Toad Hall, they escorted the spellbound, sleepwalking Toad to his door, put him inside

it, and instructed his housekeeper to feed him, undress him, and put him to bed. Then they got out their boat

from the boathouse, sculled down the river home, and at a very late hour sat down to supper in their own

The following evening the Mole, who had risen late and taken things very easy all day, was sitting on the

bank fishing, when the Rat, who had been looking up his friends and gossiping, came strolling along to find

him. `Heard the news?' he said. `There's nothing else being talked about, all along the river bank. Toad went

up to Town by an early train this morning. And he has ordered a large and very expensive motorcar.'

THE Mole had long wanted to make the I acquaintance of the Badger. He seemed, by all accounts, to be such

an important personage and, though rarely visible, to make his unseen influence felt by everybody about the

place. But whenever the Mole mentioned his wish to the Water Rat he always found himself put off. `It's all

right,' the Rat would say. `Badger'll turn up some day or other he's always turning up and then I'll

introduce you. The best of fellows! But you must not only take him as you find him, but when you find him.'

`He wouldn't come,' replied the Rat simply. `Badger hates Society, and invitations, and dinner, and all that

`O, I'm sure he wouldn't like that at all,' said the Rat, quite alarmed. `He's so very shy, he'd be sure to be

offended. I've never even ventured to call on him at his own home myself, though I know him so well.

Besides, we can't. It's quite out of the question, because he lives in the very middle of the Wild Wood.'

`Well, supposing he does,' said the Mole. `You told me the Wild Wood was all right, you know.'

`O, I know, I know, so it is,' replied the Rat evasively. `But I think we won't go there just now. Not just yet.

It's a long way, and he wouldn't be at home at this time of year anyhow, and he'll be coming along some day,

The Mole had to be content with this. But the Badger never came along, and every day brought its

amusements, and it was not till summer was long over, and cold and frost and miry ways kept them much

indoors, and the swollen river raced past outside their windows with a speed that mocked at boating of any

sort or kind, that he found his thoughts dwelling again with much persistence on the solitary grey Badger,

In the winter time the Rat slept a great deal, retiring early and rising late. During his short day he sometimes

scribbled poetry or did other small domestic jobs about the house; and, of course, there were always animals

dropping in for a chat, and consequently there was a good deal of storytelling and comparing notes on the

Such a rich chapter it had been, when one came to look back on it all! With illustrations so numerous and so

very highly coloured! The pageant of the river bank had marched steadily along, unfolding itself in

scenepictures that succeeded each other in stately procession. Purple loosestrife arrived early, shaking

luxuriant tangled locks along the edge of the mirror whence its own face laughed back at it. Willowherb,

tender and wistful, like a pink sunset cloud, was not slow to follow. Comfrey, the purple handinhand with

the white, crept forth to take its place in the line; and at last one morning the diffident and delaying dogrose

stepped delicately on the stage, and one knew, as if stringmusic had announced it in stately chords that

strayed into a gavotte, that June at last was here. One member of the company was still awaited; the

shepherdboy for the nymphs to woo, the knight for whom the ladies waited at the window, the prince that

was to kiss the sleeping summer back to life and love. But when meadowsweet, debonair and odorous in

amber jerkin, moved graciously to his place in the group, then the play was ready to begin.

And what a play it had been! Drowsy animals, snug in their holes while wind and rain were battering at their

doors, recalled still keen mornings, an hour before sunrise, when the white mist, as yet undispersed, clung

closely along the surface of the water; then the shock of the early plunge, the scamper along the bank, and the

radiant transformation of earth, air, and water, when suddenly the sun was with them again, and grey was

gold and colour was born and sprang out of the earth once more. They recalled the languorous siesta of hot

midday, deep in green undergrowth, the sun striking through in tiny golden shafts and spots; the boating and

bathing of the afternoon, the rambles along dusty lanes and through yellow cornfields; and the long, cool

evening at last, when so many threads were gathered up, so many friendships rounded, and so many

adventures planned for the morrow. There was plenty to talk about on those short winter days when the

animals found themselves round the fire; still, the Mole had a good deal of spare time on his hands, and so

one afternoon, when the Rat in his armchair before the blaze was alternately dozing and trying over rhymes

that wouldn't fit, he formed the resolution to go out by himself and explore the Wild Wood, and perhaps

It was a cold still afternoon with a hard steely sky overhead, when he slipped out of the warm parlour into the

open air. The country lay bare and entirely leafless around him, and he thought that he had never seen so far

and so intimately into the insides of things as on that winter day when Nature was deep in her annual slumber

and seemed to have kicked the clothes off. Copses, dells, quarries and all hidden places, which had been

mysterious mines for exploration in leafy summer, now exposed themselves and their secrets pathetically,

and seemed to ask him to overlook their shabby poverty for a while, till they could riot in rich masquerade as

before, and trick and entice him with the old deceptions. It was pitiful in a way, and yet cheering even

exhilarating. He was glad that he liked the country undecorated, hard, and stripped of its finery. He had got

down to the bare bones of it, and they were fine and strong and simple. He did not want the warm clover and

the play of seeding grasses; the screens of quickset, the billowy drapery of beech and elm seemed best away;

and with great cheerfulness of spirit he pushed on towards the Wild Wood, which lay before him low and

There was nothing to alarm him at first entry. Twigs crackled under his feet, logs tripped him, funguses on

stumps resembled caricatures, and startled him for the moment by their likeness to something familiar and far

away; but that was all fun, and exciting. It led him on, and he penetrated to where the light was less, and trees

Everything was very still now. The dusk advanced on him steadily, rapidly, gathering in behind and before;

It was over his shoulder, and indistinctly, that he first thought he saw a face; a little evil wedgeshaped face,

looking out at him from a hole. When he turned and confronted it, the thing had vanished.

He quickened his pace, telling himself cheerfully not to begin imagining things, or there would be simply no

end to it. He passed another hole, and another, and another; and then yes! no! yes! certainly a little

narrow face, with hard eyes, had flashed up for an instant from a hole, and was gone. He hesitated braced

himself up for an effort and strode on. Then suddenly, and as if it had been so all the time, every hole, far and

near, and there were hundreds of them, seemed to possess its face, coming and going rapidly, all fixing on

If he could only get away from the holes in the banks, he thought, there would be no more faces. He swung

Very faint and shrill it was, and far behind him, when first he heard it; but somehow it made him hurry

forward. Then, still very faint and shrill, it sounded far ahead of him, and made him hesitate and want to go

back. As he halted in indecision it broke out on either side, and seemed to be caught up and passed on

throughout the whole length of the wood to its farthest limit. They were up and alert and ready, evidently,

whoever they were! And he he was alone, and unarmed, and far from any help; and the night was closing

He thought it was only falling leaves at first, so slight and delicate was the sound of it. Then as it grew it took

a regular rhythm, and he knew it for nothing else but the patpatpat of little feet still a very long way off.

Was it in front or behind? It seemed to be first one, and then the other, then both. It grew and it multiplied, till

from every quarter as he listened anxiously, leaning this way and that, it seemed to be closing in on him. As

he stood still to hearken, a rabbit came running hard towards him through the trees. He waited, expecting it to

slacken pace, or to swerve from him into a different course. Instead, the animal almost brushed him as it

dashed past, his face set and hard, his eyes staring. `Get out of this, you fool, get out!' the Mole heard him

The pattering increased till it sounded like sudden hail on the dry leafcarpet spread around him. The whole

wood seemed running now, running hard, hunting, chasing, closing in round something or somebody? In

panic, he began to run too, aimlessly, he knew not whither. He ran up against things, he fell over things and

into things, he darted under things and dodged round things. At last he took refuge in the deep dark hollow of

an old beech tree, which offered shelter, concealment perhaps even safety, but who could tell? Anyhow,

he was too tired to run any further, and could only snuggle down into the dry leaves which had drifted into

the hollow and hope he was safe for a time. And as he lay there panting and trembling, and listened to the

whistlings and the patterings outside, he knew it at last, in all its fullness, that dread thing which other little

dwellers in field and hedgerow had encountered here, and known as their darkest moment that thing

Meantime the Rat, warm and comfortable, dozed by his fireside. His paper of halffinished verses slipped

from his knee, his head fell back, his mouth opened, and he wandered by the verdant banks of dreamrivers.

Then a coal slipped, the fire crackled and sent up a spurt of flame, and he woke with a start. Remembering

what he had been engaged upon, he reached down to the floor for his verses, pored over them for a minute,

and then looked round for the Mole to ask him if he knew a good rhyme for something or other.

Then he called `Moly!' several times, and, receiving no answer, got up and went out into the hall.

The Mole's cap was missing from its accustomed peg. His goloshes, which always lay by the umbrellastand,

The Rat left the house, and carefully examined the muddy surface of the ground outside, hoping to find the

Mole's tracks. There they were, sure enough. The goloshes were new, just bought for the winter, and the

pimples on their soles were fresh and sharp. He could see the imprints of them in the mud, running along

The Rat looked very grave, and stood in deep thought for a minute or two. Then he reentered the house,

strapped a belt round his waist, shoved a brace of pistols into it, took up a stout cudgel that stood in a corner

It was already getting towards dusk when he reached the first fringe of trees and plunged without hesitation

into the wood, looking anxiously on either side for any sign of his friend. Here and there wicked little faces

popped out of holes, but vanished immediately at sight of the valorous animal, his pistols, and the great ugly

cudgel in his grasp; and the whistling and pattering, which he had heard quite plainly on his first entry, died

away and ceased, and all was very still. He made his way manfully through the length of the wood, to its

furthest edge; then, forsaking all paths, he set himself to traverse it, laboriously working over the whole

ground, and all the time calling out cheerfully, `Moly, Moly, Moly! Where are you? It's me it's old Rat!'

He had patiently hunted through the wood for an hour or more, when at last to his joy he heard a little

answering cry. Guiding himself by the sound, he made his way through the gathering darkness to the foot of

an old beech tree, with a hole in it, and from out of the hole came a feeble voice, saying `Ratty! Is that really

The Rat crept into the hollow, and there he found the Mole, exhausted and still trembling. `O Rat!' he cried,

`O, I quite understand,' said the Rat soothingly. `You shouldn't really have gone and done it, Mole. I did my

best to keep you from it. We riverbankers, we hardly ever come here by ourselves. If we have to come, we

come in couples, at least; then we're generally all right. Besides, there are a hundred things one has to know,

which we understand all about and you don't, as yet. I mean passwords, and signs, and sayings which have

power and effect, and plants you carry in your pocket, and verses you repeat, and dodges and tricks you

practise; all simple enough when you know them, but they've got to be known if you're small, or you'll find

yourself in trouble. Of course if you were Badger or Otter, it would be quite another matter.'

`Surely the brave Mr. Toad wouldn't mind coming here by himself, would he?' inquired the Mole.

`Old Toad?' said the Rat, laughing heartily. `He wouldn't show his face here alone, not for a whole hatful of

The Mole was greatly cheered by the sound of the Rat's careless laughter, as well as by the sight of his stick

and his gleaming pistols, and he stopped shivering and began to feel bolder and more himself again.

`Now then,' said the Rat presently, `we really must pull ourselves together and make a start for home while

there's still a little light left. It will never do to spend the night here, you understand. Too cold, for one thing.'

`Dear Ratty,' said the poor Mole, `I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm simply dead beat and that's a solid fact. You

must let me rest here a while longer, and get my strength back, if I'm to get home at all.'

`O, all right,' said the goodnatured Rat, `rest away. It's pretty nearly pitch dark now, anyhow; and there

So the Mole got well into the dry leaves and stretched himself out, and presently dropped off into sleep,

though of a broken and troubled sort; while the Rat covered himself up, too, as best he might, for warmth,

When at last the Mole woke up, much refreshed and in his usual spirits, the Rat said, `Now then! I'll just take

He went to the entrance of their retreat and put his head out. Then the Mole heard him saying quietly to

The Mole came and crouched beside him, and, looking out, saw the wood that had been so dreadful to him in

quite a changed aspect. Holes, hollows, pools, pitfalls, and other black menaces to the wayfarer were

vanishing fast, and a gleaming carpet of faery was springing up everywhere, that looked too delicate to be

trodden upon by rough feet. A fine powder filled the air and caressed the cheek with a tingle in its touch, and

the black boles of the trees showed up in a light that seemed to come from below.

`Well, well, it can't be helped,' said the Rat, after pondering. `We must make a start, and take our chance, I

suppose. The worst of it is, I don't exactly know where we are. And now this snow makes everything look so

It did indeed. The Mole would not have known that it was the same wood. However, they set out bravely, and

took the line that seemed most promising, holding on to each other and pretending with invincible

cheerfulness that they recognized an old friend in every fresh tree that grimly and silently greeted them, or

saw openings, gaps, or paths with a familiar turn in them, in the monotony of white space and black

An hour or two later they had lost all count of time they pulled up, dispirited, weary, and hopelessly at

sea, and sat down on a fallen treetrunk to recover their breath and consider what was to be done. They were

aching with fatigue and bruised with tumbles; they had fallen into several holes and got wet through; the

snow was getting so deep that they could hardly drag their little legs through it, and the trees were thicker and

more like each other than ever. There seemed to be no end to this wood, and no beginning, and no difference

`We can't sit here very long,' said the Rat. `We shall have to make another push for it, and do something or

other. The cold is too awful for anything, and the snow will soon be too deep for us to wade through.' He

peered about him and considered. `Look here,' he went on, `this is what occurs to me. There's a sort of dell

down here in front of us, where the ground seems all hilly and humpy and hummocky. We'll make our way

down into that, and try and find some sort of shelter, a cave or hole with a dry floor to it, out of the snow and

the wind, and there we'll have a good rest before we try again, for we're both of us pretty dead beat. Besides,

So once more they got on their feet, and struggled down into the dell, where they hunted about for a cave or

some corner that was dry and a protection from the keen wind and the whirling snow. They were

investigating one of the hummocky bits the Rat had spoken of, when suddenly the Mole tripped up and fell

`O my leg!' he cried. `O my poor shin!' and he sat up on the snow and nursed his leg in both his front paws.

`You don't seem to be having much luck today, do you? Let's have a look at the leg. Yes,' he went on, going

down on his knees to look, `you've cut your shin, sure enough. Wait till I get at my handkerchief, and I'll tie it

`I must have tripped over a hidden branch or a stump,' said the Mole miserably. `O, my! O, my!'

`It's a very clean cut,' said the Rat, examining it again attentively. `That was never done by a branch or a

stump. Looks as if it was made by a sharp edge of something in metal. Funny!' He pondered awhile, and

`Well, never mind what done it,' said the Mole, forgetting his grammar in his pain. `It hurts just the same,

But the Rat, after carefully tying up the leg with his handkerchief, had left him and was busy scraping in the

snow. He scratched and shovelled and explored, all four legs working busily, while the Mole waited

Suddenly the Rat cried `Hooray!' and then `Hoorayoorayoorayooray!' and fell to executing a feeble

`Well,' he said at last, slowly, `I see it right enough. Seen the same sort of thing before, lots of times. Familiar

object, I call it. A doorscraper! Well, what of it? Why dance jigs around a doorscraper?'

`But don't you see what it means, you you dullwitted animal?' cried the Rat impatiently.

`Of course I see what it means,' replied the Mole. `It simply means that some very careless and forgetful

person has left his doorscraper lying about in the middle of the Wild Wood, just where it's sure to trip

everybody up. Very thoughtless of him, I call it. When I get home I shall go and complain about it to to

`O, dear! O, dear!' cried the Rat, in despair at his obtuseness. `Here, stop arguing and come and scrape!' And

After some further toil his efforts were rewarded, and a very shabby doormat lay exposed to view.

`Absolutely nothing whatever,' replied the Mole, with perfect truthfulness. `Well now,' he went on, `you seem

to have found another piece of domestic litter, done for and thrown away, and I suppose you're perfectly

happy. Better go ahead and dance your jig round that if you've got to, and get it over, and then perhaps we

can go on and not waste any more time over rubbishheaps. Can we eat a doormat? or sleep under a

doormat? Or sit on a doormat and sledge home over the snow on it, you exasperating rodent?'

`Do you mean to say,' cried the excited Rat, `that this doormat doesn't tell you anything?'

`Really, Rat,' said the Mole, quite pettishly, `I think we'd had enough of this folly. Who ever heard of a

doormat telling anyone anything? They simply don't do it. They are not that sort at all. Doormats know

`Now look here, you you thickheaded beast,' replied the Rat, really angry, `this must stop. Not another

word, but scrape scrape and scratch and dig and hunt round, especially on the sides of the hummocks, if

The Rat attacked a snowbank beside them with ardour, probing with his cudgel everywhere and then

digging with fury; and the Mole scraped busily too, more to oblige the Rat than for any other reason, for his

Some ten minutes' hard work, and the point of the Rat's cudgel struck something that sounded hollow. He

worked till he could get a paw through and feel; then called the Mole to come and help him. Hard at it went

the two animals, till at last the result of their labours stood full in view of the astonished and hitherto

In the side of what had seemed to be a snowbank stood a solidlooking little door, painted a dark green. An

iron bellpull hung by the side, and below it, on a small brass plate, neatly engraved in square capital letters,

The Mole fell backwards on the snow from sheer surprise and delight. `Rat!' he cried in penitence, `you're a

wonder! A real wonder, that's what you are. I see it all now! You argued it out, step by step, in that wise head

of yours, from the very moment that I fell and cut my shin, and you looked at the cut, and at once your

majestic mind said to itself, "Doorscraper!" And then you turned to and found the very doorscraper that

done it! Did you stop there? No. Some people would have been quite satisfied; but not you. Your intellect

went on working. "Let me only just find a doormat," says you to yourself, "and my theory is proved!" And

of course you found your doormat. You're so clever, I believe you could find anything you liked. "Now,"

says you, "that door exists, as plain as if I saw it. There's nothing else remains to be done but to find it!" Well,

I've read about that sort of thing in books, but I've never come across it before in real life. You ought to go

where you'll be properly appreciated. You're simply wasted here, among us fellows. If I only had your head,

`But as you haven't,' interrupted the Rat, rather unkindly, `I suppose you're going to sit on the snow all night

and talk? Get up at once and hang on to that bellpull you see there, and ring hard, as hard as you can, while I

While the Rat attacked the door with his stick, the Mole sprang up at the bellpull, clutched it and swung

there, both feet well off the ground, and from quite a long way off they could faintly hear a deeptoned bell

THEY waited patiently for what seemed a very long time, stamping in the snow to keep their feet warm. At

last they heard the sound of slow shuflling footsteps approaching the door from the inside. It seemed, as the

Mole remarked to the Rat, like some one walking in carpet slippers that were too large for him and down at

There was the noise of a bolt shot back, and the door opened a few inches, enough to show a long snout and a

`Now, the very next time this happens,' said a gruff and suspicious voice, `I shall be exceedingly angry. Who

`Oh, Badger,' cried the Rat, `let us in, please. It's me, Rat, and my friend Mole, and we've lost our way in the

`What, Ratty, my dear little man!' exclaimed the Badger, in quite a different voice. `Come along in, both of

you, at once. Why, you must be perished. Well I never! Lost in the snow! And in the Wild Wood, too, and at

The two animals tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get inside, and heard the door shut behind

The Badger, who wore a long dressinggown, and whose slippers were indeed very down at heel, carried a

flat candlestick in his paw and had probably been on his way to bed when their summons sounded. He looked

kindly down on them and patted both their heads. `This is not the sort of night for small animals to be out,' he

said paternally. `I'm afraid you've been up to some of your pranks again, Ratty. But come along; come into

He shuffled on in front of them, carrying the light, and they followed him, nudging each other in an

anticipating sort of way, down a long, gloomy, and, to tell the truth, decidedly shabby passage, into a sort of a

central hall; out of which they could dimly see other long tunnellike passages branching, passages

mysterious and without apparent end. But there were doors in the hall as well stout oaken

comfortablelooking doors. One of these the Badger flung open, and at once they found themselves in all the

The floor was wellworn red brick, and on the wide hearth burnt a fire of logs, between two attractive

chimneycorners tucked away in the wall, well out of any suspicion of draught. A couple of highbacked

settles, facing each other on either side of the fire, gave further sitting accommodations for the sociably

disposed. In the middle of the room stood a long table of plain boards placed on trestles, with benches down

each side. At one end of it, where an armchair stood pushed back, were spread the remains of the Badger's

plain but ample supper. Rows of spotless plates winked from the shelves of the dresser at the far end of the

room, and from the rafters overhead hung hams, bundles of dried herbs, nets of onions, and baskets of eggs. It

seemed a place where heroes could fitly feast after victory, where weary harvesters could line up in scores

along the table and keep their Harvest Home with mirth and song, or where two or three friends of simple

tastes could sit about as they pleased and eat and smoke and talk in comfort and contentment. The ruddy

brick floor smiled up at the smoky ceiling; the oaken settles, shiny with long wear, exchanged cheerful

glances with each other; plates on the dresser grinned at pots on the shelf, and the merry firelight flickered

The kindly Badger thrust them down on a settle to toast themselves at the fire, and bade them remove their

wet coats and boots. Then he fetched them dressinggowns and slippers, and himself bathed the Mole's shin

with warm water and mended the cut with stickingplaster till the whole thing was just as good as new, if not

better. In the embracing light and warmth, warm and dry at last, with weary legs propped up in front of them,

and a suggestive clink of plates being arranged on the table behind, it seemed to the stormdriven animals,

now in safe anchorage, that the cold and trackless Wild Wood just left outside was miles and miles away, and

When at last they were thoroughly toasted, the Badger summoned them to the table, where he had been busy

laying a repast. They had felt pretty hungry before, but when they actually saw at last the supper that was

spread for them, really it seemed only a question of what they should attack first where all was so attractive,

and whether the other things would obligingly wait for them till they had time to give them attention.

Conversation was impossible for a long time; and when it was slowly resumed, it was that regrettable sort of

conversation that results from talking with your mouth full. The Badger did not mind that sort of thing at all,

nor did he take any notice of elbows on the table, or everybody speaking at once. As he did not go into

Society himself, he had got an idea that these things belonged to the things that didn't really matter. (We

know of course that he was wrong, and took too narrow a view; because they do matter very much, though it

would take too long to explain why.) He sat in his armchair at the head of the table, and nodded gravely at

intervals as the animals told their story; and he did not seem surprised or shocked at anything, and he never

said, `I told you so,' or, `Just what I always said,' or remarked that they ought to have done soandso, or

ought not to have done something else. The Mole began to feel very friendly towards him.

When supper was really finished at last, and each animal felt that his skin was now as tight as was decently

safe, and that by this time he didn't care a hang for anybody or anything, they gathered round the glowing

embers of the great wood fire, and thought how jolly it was to be sitting up so late, and so independent, and

so full; and after they had chatted for a time about things in general, the Badger said heartily, `Now then! tell

`Oh, from bad to worse,' said the Rat gravely, while the Mole, cocked up on a settle and basking in the

firelight, his heels higher than his head, tried to look properly mournful. `Another smashup only last week,

and a bad one. You see, he will insist on driving himself, and he's hopelessly incapable. If he'd only employ a

decent, steady, welltrained animal, pay him good wages, and leave everything to him, he'd get on all right.

But no; he's convinced he's a heavenborn driver, and nobody can teach him anything; and all the rest

`Smashes, or machines?' asked the Rat. `Oh, well, after all, it's the same thing with Toad. This is the

seventh. As for the others you know that coachhouse of his? Well, it's piled up literally piled up to

the roof with fragments of motorcars, none of them bigger than your hat! That accounts for the other six

`He's been in hospital three times,' put in the Mole; `and as for the fines he's had to pay, it's simply awful to

`Yes, and that's part of the trouble,' continued the Rat. `Toad's rich, we all know; but he's not a millionaire.

And he's a hopelessly bad driver, and quite regardless of law and order. Killed or ruined it's got to be one

of the two things, sooner or later. Badger! we're his friends oughtn't we to do something?'

The Badger went through a bit of hard thinking. `Now look here!' he said at last, rather severely; `of course

His two friends assented, quite understanding his point. No animal, according to the rules of

animaletiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the

offseason of winter. All are sleepy some actually asleep. All are weatherbound, more or less; and all

are resting from arduous days and nights, during which every muscle in them has been severely tested, and

`Very well then!' continued the Badger. `But, when once the year has really turned, and the nights are shorter,

and halfway through them one rouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up and doing by sunrise, if not

`Well, then,' went on the Badger, `we that is, you and me and our friend the Mole here we'll take Toad

seriously in hand. We'll stand no nonsense whatever. We'll bring him back to reason, by force if need be.

`He's been asleep two or three times since supper,' said the Mole, laughing. He himself was feeling quite

wakeful and even lively, though he didn't know why. The reason was, of course, that he being naturally an

underground animal by birth and breeding, the situation of Badger's house exactly suited him and made him

feel at home; while the Rat, who slept every night in a bedroom the windows of which opened on a breezy

`Well, it's time we were all in bed,' said the Badger, getting up and fetching flat candlesticks. `Come along,

you two, and I'll show you your quarters. And take your time tomorrow morning breakfast at any hour

He conducted the two animals to a long room that seemed half bedchamber and half loft. The Badger's winter

stores, which indeed were visible everywhere, took up half the room piles of apples, turnips, and potatoes,

baskets full of nuts, and jars of honey; but the two little white beds on the remainder of the floor looked soft

and inviting, and the linen on them, though coarse, was clean and smelt beautifully of lavender; and the Mole

and the Water Rat, shaking off their garments in some thirty seconds, tumbled in between the sheets in great

In accordance with the kindly Badger's injunctions, the two tired animals came down to breakfast very late

next morning, and found a bright fire burning in the kitchen, and two young hedgehogs sitting on a bench at

the table, eating oatmeal porridge out of wooden bowls. The hedgehogs dropped their spoons, rose to their

`There, sit down, sit down,' said the Rat pleasantly, `and go on with your porridge. Where have you

`Yes, please, sir,' said the elder of the two hedgehogs respectfully. `Me and little Billy here, we was trying to

find our way to school mother would have us go, was the weather ever so and of course we lost

ourselves, sir, and Billy he got frightened and took and cried, being young and fainthearted. And at last we

happened up against Mr. Badger's back door, and made so bold as to knock, sir, for Mr. Badger he's a

`I understand,' said the Rat, cutting himself some rashers from a side of bacon, while the Mole dropped some

eggs into a saucepan. `And what's the weather like outside? You needn't "sir" me quite so much?' he added.

`O, terrible bad, sir, terrible deep the snow is,' said the hedgehog. `No getting out for the likes of you

`Where's Mr. Badger?' inquired the Mole, as he warmed the coffeepot before the fire.

`The master's gone into his study, sir,' replied the hedgehog, `and he said as how he was going to be particular

This explanation, of course, was thoroughly understood by every one present. The fact is, as already set forth,

when you live a life of intense activity for six months in the year, and of comparative or actual somnolence

for the other six, during the latter period you cannot be continually pleading sleepiness when there are people

about or things to be done. The excuse gets monotonous. The animals well knew that Badger, having eaten a

hearty breakfast, had retired to his study and settled himself in an armchair with his legs up on another and a

red cotton handkerchief over his face, and was being `busy' in the usual way at this time of the year.

The frontdoor bell clanged loudly, and the Rat, who was very greasy with buttered toast, sent Billy, the

smaller hedgehog, to see who it might be. There was a sound of much stamping in the hall, and presently

Billy returned in front of the Otter, who threw himself on the Rat with an embrace and a shout of affectionate

`Thought I should find you here all right,' said the Otter cheerfully. `They were all in a great state of alarm

along River Bank when I arrived this morning. Rat never been home all night nor Mole either

something dreadful must have happened, they said; and the snow had covered up all your tracks, of course.

But I knew that when people were in any fix they mostly went to Badger, or else Badger got to know of it

somehow, so I came straight off here, through the Wild Wood and the snow! My! it was fine, coming through

the snow as the red sun was rising and showing against the black treetrunks! As you went along in the

stillness, every now and then masses of snow slid off the branches suddenly with a flop! making you jump

and run for cover. Snowcastles and snowcaverns had sprung up out of nowhere in the night and snow

bridges, terraces, ramparts I could have stayed and played with them for hours. Here and there great

branches had been torn away by the sheer weight of the snow, and robins perched and hopped on them in

their perky conceited way, just as if they had done it themselves. A ragged string of wild geese passed

overhead, high on the grey sky, and a few rooks whirled over the trees, inspected, and flapped off homewards

with a disgusted expression; but I met no sensible being to ask the news of. About halfway across I came on a

rabbit sitting on a stump, cleaning his silly face with his paws. He was a pretty scared animal when I crept up

behind him and placed a heavy forepaw on his shoulder. I had to cuff his head once or twice to get any sense

out of it at all. At last I managed to extract from him that Mole had been seen in the Wild Wood last night by

one of them. It was the talk of the burrows, he said, how Mole, Mr. Rat's particular friend, was in a bad fix;

how he had lost his way, and "They" were up and out hunting, and were chivvying him round and round.

"Then why didn't any of you do something?" I asked. "You mayn't be blest with brains, but there are

hundreds and hundreds of you, big, stout fellows, as fat as butter, and your burrows running in all directions,

and you could have taken him in and made him safe and comfortable, or tried to, at all events." "What, us?"

he merely said: "do something? us rabbits?" So I cuffed him again and left him. There was nothing else to be

done. At any rate, I had learnt something; and if I had had the luck to meet any of "Them" I'd have learnt

`Weren't you at all er nervous?' asked the Mole, some of yesterday's terror coming back to him at the

`Nervous?' The Otter showed a gleaming set of strong white teeth as he laughed. `I'd give 'em nerves if any of

them tried anything on with me. Here, Mole, fry me some slices of ham, like the good little chap you are. I'm

frightfully hungry, and I've got any amount to say to Ratty here. Haven't seen him for an age.'

So the goodnatured Mole, having cut some slices of ham, set the hedgehogs to fry it, and returned to his

own breakfast, while the Otter and the Rat, their heads together, eagerly talked rivershop, which is long

A plate of fried ham had just been cleared and sent back for more, when the Badger entered, yawning and

rubbing his eyes, and greeted them all in his quiet, simple way, with kind enquiries for every one. `It must be

getting on for luncheon time,' he remarked to the Otter. `Better stop and have it with us. You must be hungry,

`Rather!' replied the Otter, winking at the Mole. `The sight of these greedy young hedgehogs stuffing

The hedgehogs, who were just beginning to feel hungry again after their porridge, and after working so hard

at their frying, looked timidly up at Mr. Badger, but were too shy to say anything.

`Here, you two youngsters be off home to your mother,' said the Badger kindly. `I'll send some one with you

He gave them sixpence apiece and a pat on the head, and they went off with much respectful swinging of

Presently they all sat down to luncheon together. The Mole found himself placed next to Mr. Badger, and, as

the other two were still deep in rivergossip from which nothing could divert them, he took the opportunity

to tell Badger how comfortable and homelike it all felt to him. `Once well underground,' he said, `you know

exactly where you are. Nothing can happen to you, and nothing can get at you. You're entirely your own

master, and you don't have to consult anybody or mind what they say. Things go on all the same overhead,

and you let 'em, and don't bother about 'em. When you want to, up you go, and there the things are, waiting

The Badger simply beamed on him. `That's exactly what I say,' he replied. `There's no security, or peace and

tranquillity, except underground. And then, if your ideas get larger and you want to expand why, a dig and

a scrape, and there you are! If you feel your house is a bit too big, you stop up a hole or two, and there you

are again! No builders, no tradesmen, no remarks passed on you by fellows looking over your wall, and,

above all, no weather. Look at Rat, now. A couple of feet of flood water, and he's got to move into hired

lodgings; uncomfortable, inconveniently situated, and horribly expensive. Take Toad. I say nothing against

Toad Hall; quite the best house in these parts, as a house. But supposing a fire breaks out where's Toad?

Supposing tiles are blown off, or walls sink or crack, or windows get broken where's Toad? Supposing the

rooms are draughty I hate a draught myself where's Toad? No, up and out of doors is good enough to

roam about and get one's living in; but underground to come back to at last that's my idea of home!'

The Mole assented heartily; and the Badger in consequence got very friendly with him. `When lunch is over,'

he said, `I'll take you all round this little place of mine. I can see you'll appreciate it. You understand what

After luncheon, accordingly, when the other two had settled themselves into the chimneycorner and had

started a heated argument on the subject of eels, the Badger lighted a lantern and bade the Mole follow him.

Crossing the hall, they passed down one of the principal tunnels, and the wavering light of the lantern gave

glimpses on either side of rooms both large and small, some mere cupboards, others nearly as broad and

imposing as Toad's dininghall. A narrow passage at right angles led them into another corridor, and here the

same thing was repeated. The Mole was staggered at the size, the extent, the ramifications of it all; at the

length of the dim passages, the solid vaultings of the crammed storechambers, the masonry everywhere, the

pillars, the arches, the pavements. `How on earth, Badger,' he said at last, `did you ever find time and strength

`It would be astonishing indeed,' said the Badger simply, `if I had done it. But as a matter of fact I did none of

it only cleaned out the passages and chambers, as far as I had need of them. There's lots more of it, all

round about. I see you don't understand, and I must explain it to you. Well, very long ago, on the spot where

the Wild Wood waves now, before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it now is, there was a city

a city of people, you know. Here, where we are standing, they lived, and walked, and talked, and slept,

and carried on their business. Here they stabled their horses and feasted, from here they rode out to fight or

drove out to trade. They were a powerful people, and rich, and great builders. They built to last, for they

`Who can tell?' said the Badger. `People come they stay for a while, they flourish, they build and they

go. It is their way. But we remain. There were badgers here, I've been told, long before that same city ever

came to be. And now there are badgers here again. We are an enduring lot, and we may move out for a time,

`When they went,' continued the Badger, `the strong winds and persistent rains took the matter in hand,

patiently, ceaselessly, year after year. Perhaps we badgers too, in our small way, helped a little who

knows? It was all down, down, down, gradually ruin and levelling and disappearance. Then it was all up,

up, up, gradually, as seeds grew to saplings, and saplings to forest trees, and bramble and fern came creeping

in to help. Leafmould rose and obliterated, streams in their winter freshets brought sand and soil to clog and

to cover, and in course of time our home was ready for us again, and we moved in. Up above us, on the

surface, the same thing happened. Animals arrived, liked the look of the place, took up their quarters, settled

down, spread, and flourished. They didn't bother themselves about the past they never do; they're too

busy. The place was a bit humpy and hillocky, naturally, and full of holes; but that was rather an advantage.

And they don't bother about the future, either the future when perhaps the people will move in again

for a time as may very well be. The Wild Wood is pretty well populated by now; with all the usual lot,

good, bad, and indifferent I name no names. It takes all sorts to make a world. But I fancy you know

`Well, well,' said the Badger, patting him on the shoulder, `it was your first experience of them, you see.

They're not so bad really; and we must all live and let live. But I'll pass the word around tomorrow, and I

think you'll have no further trouble. Any friend of mine walks where he likes in this country, or I'll know the

When they got back to the kitchen again, they found the Rat walking up and down, very restless. The

underground atmosphere was oppressing him and getting on his nerves, and he seemed really to be afraid that

the river would run away if he wasn't there to look after it. So he had his overcoat on, and his pistols thrust

into his belt again. `Come along, Mole,' he said anxiously, as soon as he caught sight of them. `We must get

off while it's daylight. Don't want to spend another night in the Wild Wood again.'

`It'll be all right, my fine fellow,' said the Otter. `I'm coming along with you, and I know every path blindfold;

and if there's a head that needs to be punched, you can confidently rely upon me to punch it.'

`You really needn't fret, Ratty,' added the Badger placidly. `My passages run further than you think, and I've

boltholes to the edge of the wood in several directions, though I don't care for everybody to know about

them. When you really have to go, you shall leave by one of my short cuts. Meantime, make yourself easy,

The Rat was nevertheless still anxious to be off and attend to his river, so the Badger, taking up his lantern

again, led the way along a damp and airless tunnel that wound and dipped, part vaulted, part hewn through

solid rock, for a weary distance that seemed to be miles. At last daylight began to show itself confusedly

through tangled growth overhanging the mouth of the passage; and the Badger, bidding them a hasty

goodbye, pushed them hurriedly through the opening, made everything look as natural as possible again,

They found themselves standing on the very edge of the Wild Wood. Rocks and brambles and treeroots

behind them, confusedly heaped and tangled; in front, a great space of quiet fields, hemmed by lines of

hedges black on the snow, and, far ahead, a glint of the familiar old river, while the wintry sun hung red and

low on the horizon. The Otter, as knowing all the paths, took charge of the party, and they trailed out on a

beeline for a distant stile. Pausing there a moment and looking back, they saw the whole mass of the Wild

Wood, dense, menacing, compact, grimly set in vast white surroundings; simultaneously they turned and

made swiftly for home, for firelight and the familiar things it played on, for the voice, sounding cheerily

outside their window, of the river that they knew and trusted in all its moods, that never made them afraid

As he hurried along, eagerly anticipating the moment when he would be at home again among the things he

knew and liked, the Mole saw clearly that he was an animal of tilled field and hedgerow, linked to the

ploughed furrow, the frequented pasture, the lane of evening lingerings, the cultivated gardenplot. For

others the asperities, the stubborn endurance, or the clash of actual conflict, that went with Nature in the

rough; he must be wise, must keep to the pleasant places in which his lines were laid and which held

THE sheep ran huddling together against the hurdles, blowing out thin nostrils and stamping with delicate

forefeet, their heads thrown back and a light steam rising from the crowded sheeppen into the frosty air, as

the two animals hastened by in high spirits, with much chatter and laughter. They were returning across

country after a long day's outing with Otter, hunting and exploring on the wide uplands where certain streams

tributary to their own River had their first small beginnings; and the shades of the short winter day were

closing in on them, and they had still some distance to go. Plodding at random across the plough, they had

heard the sheep and had made for them; and now, leading from the sheeppen, they found a beaten track that

made walking a lighter business, and responded, moreover, to that small inquiring something which all

animals carry inside them, saying unmistakably, `Yes, quite right; this leads home!'

`It looks as if we were coming to a village,' said the Mole somewhat dubiously, slackening his pace, as the

track, that had in time become a path and then had developed into a lane, now handed them over to the charge

of a wellmetalled road. The animals did not hold with villages, and their own highways, thickly frequented

as they were, took an independent course, regardless of church, post office, or publichouse.

`Oh, never mind!' said the Rat. `At this season of the year they're all safe indoors by this time, sitting round

the fire; men, women, and children, dogs and cats and all. We shall slip through all right, without any bother

or unpleasantness, and we can have a look at them through their windows if you like, and see what they're

The rapid nightfall of midDecember had quite beset the little village as they approached it on soft feet over

a first thin fall of powdery snow. Little was visible but squares of a dusky orangered on either side of the

street, where the firelight or lamplight of each cottage overflowed through the casements into the dark world

without. Most of the low latticed windows were innocent of blinds, and to the lookersin from outside, the

inmates, gathered round the teatable, absorbed in handiwork, or talking with laughter and gesture, had each

that happy grace which is the last thing the skilled actor shall capture the natural grace which goes with

perfect unconsciousness of observation. Moving at will from one theatre to another, the two spectators, so far

from home themselves, had something of wistfulness in their eyes as they watched a cat being stroked, a

sleepy child picked up and huddled off to bed, or a tired man stretch and knock out his pipe on the end of a

But it was from one little window, with its blind drawn down, a mere blank transparency on the night, that

the sense of home and the little curtained world within walls the larger stressful world of outside Nature

shut out and forgotten most pulsated. Close against the white blind hung a birdcage, clearly silhouetted,

every wire, perch, and appurtenance distinct and recognisable, even to yesterday's dulledged lump of sugar.

On the middle perch the fluffy occupant, head tucked well into feathers, seemed so near to them as to be

easily stroked, had they tried; even the delicate tips of his plumpedout plumage pencilled plainly on the

illuminated screen. As they looked, the sleepy little fellow stirred uneasily, woke, shook himself, and raised

his head. They could see the gape of his tiny beak as he yawned in a bored sort of way, looked round, and

then settled his head into his back again, while the ruffled feathers gradually subsided into perfect stillness.

Then a gust of bitter wind took them in the back of the neck, a small sting of frozen sleet on the skin woke

them as from a dream, and they knew their toes to be cold and their legs tired, and their own home distant a

Once beyond the village, where the cottages ceased abruptly, on either side of the road they could smell

through the darkness the friendly fields again; and they braced themselves for the last long stretch, the home

stretch, the stretch that we know is bound to end, some time, in the rattle of the doorlatch, the sudden

firelight, and the sight of familiar things greeting us as longabsent travellers from far oversea. They

plodded along steadily and silently, each of them thinking his own thoughts. The Mole's ran a good deal on

supper, as it was pitchdark, and it was all a strange country for him as far as he knew, and he was following

obediently in the wake of the Rat, leaving the guidance entirely to him. As for the Rat, he was walking a little

way ahead, as his habit was, his shoulders humped, his eyes fixed on the straight grey road in front of him; so

he did not notice poor Mole when suddenly the summons reached him, and took him like an electric shock.

We others, who have long lost the more subtle of the physical senses, have not even proper terms to express

an animal's intercommunications with his surroundings, living or otherwise, and have only the word `smell,'

for instance, to include the whole range of delicate thrills which murmur in the nose of the animal night and

day, summoning, warning? inciting, repelling. It was one of these mysterious fairy calls from out the void

that suddenly reached Mole in the darkness, making him tingle through and through with its very familiar

appeal, even while yet he could not clearly remember what it was. He stopped dead in his tracks, his nose

searching hither and thither in its efforts to recapture the fine filament, the telegraphic current, that had so

strongly moved him. A moment, and he had caught it again; and with it this time came recollection in fullest

Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted through the air, those

invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way! Why, it must be quite close by him at that moment, his

old home that he had hurriedly forsaken and never sought again, that day when he first found the river! And

now it was sending out its scouts and its messengers to capture him and bring him in. Since his escape on that

bright morning he had hardly given it a thought, so absorbed had he been in his new life, in all its pleasures,

its surprises, its fresh and captivating experiences. Now, with a rush of old memories, how clearly it stood up

before him, in the darkness! Shabby indeed, and small and poorly furnished, and yet his, the home he had

made for himself, the home he had been so happy to get back to after his day's work. And the home had been

happy with him, too, evidently, and was missing him, and wanted him back, and was telling him so, through

his nose, sorrowfully, reproachfully, but with no bitterness or anger; only with plaintive reminder that it was

The call was clear, the summons was plain. He must obey it instantly, and go. `Ratty!' he called, full of joyful

`Please stop, Ratty!' pleaded the poor Mole, in anguish of heart. `You don't understand! It's my home, my old

home! I've just come across the smell of it, and it's close by here, really quite close. And I must go to it, I

The Rat was by this time very far ahead, too far to hear clearly what the Mole was calling, too far to catch the

sharp note of painful appeal in his voice. And he was much taken up with the weather, for he too could smell

`Mole, we mustn't stop now, really!' he called back. `We'll come for it tomorrow, whatever it is you've

found. But I daren't stop now it's late, and the snow's coming on again, and I'm not sure of the way! And I

want your nose, Mole, so come on quick, there's a good fellow!' And the Rat pressed forward on his way

Poor Mole stood alone in the road, his heart torn asunder, and a big sob gathering, gathering, somewhere low

down inside him, to leap up to the surface presently, he knew, in passionate escape. But even under such a

test as this his loyalty to his friend stood firm. Never for a moment did he dream of abandoning him.

Meanwhile, the wafts from his old home pleaded, whispered, conjured, and finally claimed him imperiously.

He dared not tarry longer within their magic circle. With a wrench that tore his very heartstrings he set his

face down the road and followed submissively in the track of the Rat, while faint, thin little smells, still

dogging his retreating nose, reproached him for his new friendship and his callous forgetfulness.

With an effort he caught up to the unsuspecting Rat, who began chattering cheerfully about what they would

do when they got back, and how jolly a fire of logs in the parlour would be, and what a supper he meant to

eat; never noticing his companion's silence and distressful state of mind. At last, however, when they had

gone some considerable way further, and were passing some treestumps at the edge of a copse that bordered

the road, he stopped and said kindly, `Look here, Mole old chap, you seem dead tired. No talk left in you, and

your feet dragging like lead. We'll sit down here for a minute and rest. The snow has held off so far, and the

The Mole subsided forlornly on a treestump and tried to control himself, for he felt it surely coming. The

sob he had fought with so long refused to be beaten. Up and up, it forced its way to the air, and then another,

and another, and others thick and fast; till poor Mole at last gave up the struggle, and cried freely and

helplessly and openly, now that he knew it was all over and he had lost what he could hardly be said to have

The Rat, astonished and dismayed at the violence of Mole's paroxysm of grief, did not dare to speak for a

while. At last he said, very quietly and sympathetically, `What is it, old fellow? Whatever can be the matter?

Poor Mole found it difficult to get any words out between the upheavals of his chest that followed one upon

another so quickly and held back speech and choked it as it came. `I know it's a shabby, dingy little place,'

he sobbed forth at last, brokenly: `not like your cosy quarters or Toad's beautiful hall or Badger's

great house but it was my own little home and I was fond of it and I went away and forgot all about

it and then I smelt it suddenly on the road, when I called and you wouldn't listen, Rat and

everything came back to me with a rush and I wanted it! O dear, O dear! and when you wouldn't

turn back, Ratty and I had to leave it, though I was smelling it all the time I thought my heart would

break. We might have just gone and had one look at it, Ratty only one look it was close by but

Recollection brought fresh waves of sorrow, and sobs again took full charge of him, preventing further

The Rat stared straight in front of him, saying nothing, only patting Mole gently on the shoulder. After a time

he muttered gloomily, `I see it all now! What a pig I have been! A pig that's me! Just a pig a plain pig!'

He waited till Mole's sobs became gradually less stormy and more rhythmical; he waited till at last sniffs

were frequent and sobs only intermittent. Then he rose from his seat, and, remarking carelessly, `Well, now

we'd really better be getting on, old chap!' set off up the road again, over the toilsome way they had come.

`Wherever are you (hic) going to (hic), Ratty?' cried the tearful Mole, looking up in alarm.

`We're going to find that home of yours, old fellow,' replied the Rat pleasantly; `so you had better come

`Oh, come back, Ratty, do!' cried the Mole, getting up and hurrying after him. `It's no good, I tell you! It's too

late, and too dark, and the place is too far off, and the snow's coming! And and I never meant to let you

know I was feeling that way about it it was all an accident and a mistake! And think of River Bank, and

`Hang River Bank, and supper too!' said the Rat heartily. `I tell you, I'm going to find this place now, if I stay

out all night. So cheer up, old chap, and take my arm, and we'll very soon be back there again.'

Still snuffling, pleading, and reluctant, Mole suffered himself to be dragged back along the road by his

imperious companion, who by a flow of cheerful talk and anecdote endeavoured to beguile his spirits back

and make the weary way seem shorter. When at last it seemed to the Rat that they must be nearing that part of

the road where the Mole had been `held up,' he said, `Now, no more talking. Business! Use your nose, and

They moved on in silence for some little way, when suddenly the Rat was conscious, through his arm that

was linked in Mole's, of a faint sort of electric thrill that was passing down that animal's body. Instantly he

Mole stood a moment rigid, while his uplifted nose, quivering slightly, felt the air.

Then a short, quick run forward a fault a check a try back; and then a slow, steady, confident

The Rat, much excited, kept close to his heels as the Mole, with something of the air of a sleepwalker,

crossed a dry ditch, scrambled through a hedge, and nosed his way over a field open and trackless and bare in

Suddenly, without giving warning, he dived; but the Rat was on the alert, and promptly followed him down

It was close and airless, and the earthy smell was strong, and it seemed a long time to Rat ere the passage

ended and he could stand erect and stretch and shake himself. The Mole struck a match, and by its light the

Rat saw that they were standing in an open space, neatly swept and sanded underfoot, and directly facing

them was Mole's little front door, with `Mole End' painted, in Gothic lettering, over the bellpull at the side.

Mole reached down a lantern from a nail on the wail and lit it, and the Rat, looking round him, saw that they

were in a sort of forecourt. A gardenseat stood on one side of the door, and on the other a roller; for the

Mole, who was a tidy animal when at home, could not stand having his ground kicked up by other animals

into little runs that ended in earthheaps. On the walls hung wire baskets with ferns in them, alternating with

brackets carrying plaster statuary Garibaldi, and the infant Samuel, and Queen Victoria, and other heroes

of modern Italy. Down on one side of the forecourt ran a skittlealley, with benches along it and little

wooden tables marked with rings that hinted at beermugs. In the middle was a small round pond containing

goldfish and surrounded by a cockleshell border. Out of the centre of the pond rose a fanciful erection

clothed in more cockleshells and topped by a large silvered glass ball that reflected everything all wrong

Mole's facebeamed at the sight of all these objects so dear to him, and he hurried Rat through the door, lit a

lamp in the hall, and took one glance round his old home. He saw the dust lying thick on everything, saw the

cheerless, deserted look of the longneglected house, and its narrow, meagre dimensions, its worn and

shabby contents and collapsed again on a hallchair, his nose to his paws. `O Ratty!' he cried dismally,

`why ever did I do it? Why did I bring you to this poor, cold little place, on a night like this, when you might

have been at River Bank by this time, toasting your toes before a blazing fire, with all your own nice things

The Rat paid no heed to his doleful selfreproaches. He was running here and there, opening doors,

inspecting rooms and cupboards, and lighting lamps and candles and sticking them, up everywhere. `What a

capital little house this is!' he called out cheerily. `So compact! So well planned! Everything here and

everything in its place! We'll make a jolly night of it. The first thing we want is a good fire; I'll see to that

I always know where to find things. So this is the parlour? Splendid! Your own idea, those little

sleepingbunks in the wall? Capital! Now, I'll fetch the wood and the coals, and you get a duster, Mole

you'll find one in the drawer of the kitchen table and try and smarten things up a bit. Bustle about, old

Encouraged by his inspiriting companion, the Mole roused himself and dusted and polished with energy and

heartiness, while the Rat, running to and fro with armfuls of fuel, soon had a cheerful blaze roaring up the

chimney. He hailed the Mole to come and warm himself; but Mole promptly had another fit of the blues,

dropping down on a couch in dark despair and burying his face in his duster. `Rat,' he moaned, `how about

your supper, you poor, cold, hungry, weary animal? I've nothing to give you nothing not a crumb!'

`What a fellow you are for giving in!' said the Rat reproachfully. `Why, only just now I saw a sardineopener

on the kitchen dresser, quite distinctly; and everybody knows that means there are sardines about somewhere

in the neighbourhood. Rouse yourself! pull yourself together, and come with me and forage.'

They went and foraged accordingly, hunting through every cupboard and turning out every drawer. The result

was not so very depressing after all, though of course it might have been better; a tin of sardines a box of

`There's a banquet for you!' observed the Rat, as he arranged the table. `I know some animals who would give

`No pate de foie gras, no champagne!' continued the Rat, grinning. `And that reminds me what's that little

door at the end of the passage? Your cellar, of course! Every luxury in this house! Just you wait a minute.'

He made for the cellardoor, and presently reappeared, somewhat dusty, with a bottle of beer in each paw

and another under each arm, `Selfindulgent beggar you seem to be, Mole,' he observed. `Deny yourself

nothing. This is really the jolliest little place I ever was in. Now, wherever did you pick up those prints?

Make the place look so homelike, they do. No wonder you're so fond of it, Mole. Tell us all about it, and

Then, while the Rat busied himself fetching plates, and knives and forks, and mustard which he mixed in an

eggcup, the Mole, his bosom still heaving with the stress of his recent emotion, related somewhat shyly

at first, but with more freedom as he warmed to his subject how this was planned, and how that was

thought out, and how this was got through a windfall from an aunt, and that was a wonderful find and a

bargain, and this other thing was bought out of laborious savings and a certain amount of `going without.' His

spirits finally quite restored, he must needs go and caress his possessions, and take a lamp and show off their

points to his visitor and expatiate on them, quite forgetful of the supper they both so much needed; Rat, who

was desperately hungry but strove to conceal it, nodding seriously, examining with a puckered brow, and

saying, `wonderful,' and `most remarkable,' at intervals, when the chance for an observation was given him.

At last the Rat succeeded in decoying him to the table, and had just got seriously to work with the

sardineopener when sounds were heard from the forecourt without sounds like the scuffling of small

feet in the gravel and a confused murmur of tiny voices, while broken sentences reached them `Now, all

in a line hold the lantern up a bit, Tommy clear your throats first no coughing after I say one, two,

`I think it must be the fieldmice,' replied the Mole, with a touch of pride in his manner. `They go round

carolsinging regularly at this time of the year. They're quite an institution in these parts. And they never pass

me over they come to Mole End last of all; and I used to give them hot drinks, and supper too sometimes,

It was a pretty sight, and a seasonable one, that met their eyes when they flung the door open. In the

forecourt, lit by the dim rays of a horn lantern, some eight or ten little fieldmice stood in a semicircle, red

worsted comforters round their throats, their forepaws thrust deep into their pockets, their feet jigging for

warmth. With bright beady eyes they glanced shyly at each other, sniggering a little, sniffing and applying

coatsleeves a good deal. As the door opened, one of the elder ones that carried the lantern was just saying,

`Now then, one, two, three!' and forthwith their shrill little voices uprose on the air, singing one of the

oldtime carols that their forefathers composed in fields that were fallow and held by frost, or when

snowbound in chimney corners, and handed down to be sung in the miry street to lamplit windows at

The voices ceased, the singers, bashful but smiling, exchanged sidelong glances, and silence succeeded

but for a moment only. Then, from up above and far away, down the tunnel they had so lately travelled was

borne to their ears in a faint musical hum the sound of distant bells ringing a joyful and clangorous peal.

`Very well sung, boys!' cried the Rat heartily. `And now come along in, all of you, and warm yourselves by

`Yes, come along, fieldmice,' cried the Mole eagerly. `This is quite like old times! Shut the door after you.

Pull up that settle to the fire. Now, you just wait a minute, while we O, Ratty!' he cried in despair,

plumping down on a seat, with tears impending. `Whatever are we doing? We've nothing to give them!'

`You leave all that to me,' said the masterful Rat. `Here, you with the lantern! Come over this way. I want to

`Why, certainly, sir,' replied the fieldmouse respectfully. `At this time of the year our shops keep open to all

`Then look here!' said the Rat. `You go off at once, you and your lantern, and you get me '

Here much muttered conversation ensued, and the Mole only heard bits of it, such as `Fresh, mind! no,

a pound of that will do see you get Buggins's, for I won't have any other no, only the best if you

can't get it there, try somewhere else yes, of course, homemade, no tinned stuff well then, do the best

you can!' Finally, there was a chink of coin passing from paw to paw, the fieldmouse was provided with an

The rest of the fieldmice, perched in a row on the settle, their small legs swinging, gave themselves up to

enjoyment of the fire, and toasted their chilblains till they tingled; while the Mole, failing to draw them into

easy conversation, plunged into family history and made each of them recite the names of his numerous

brothers, who were too young, it appeared, to be allowed to go out acarolling this year, but looked forward

The Rat, meanwhile, was busy examining the label on one of the beerbottles. `I perceive this to be Old

Burton,' he remarked approvingly. `Sensible Mole! The very thing! Now we shall be able to mull some ale!

It did not take long to prepare the brew and thrust the tin heater well into the red heart of the fire; and soon

every fieldmouse was sipping and coughing and choking (for a little mulled ale goes a long way) and

wiping his eyes and laughing and forgetting he had ever been cold in all his life.

`They act plays too, these fellows,' the Mole explained to the Rat. `Make them up all by themselves, and act

them afterwards. And very well they do it, too! They gave us a capital one last year, about a fieldmouse who

was captured at sea by a Barbary corsair, and made to row in a galley; and when he escaped and got home

again, his ladylove had gone into a convent. Here, you! You were in it, I remember. Get up and recite a bit.'

The fieldmouse addressed got up on his legs, giggled shyly, looked round the room, and remained

absolutely tonguetied. His comrades cheered him on, Mole coaxed and encouraged him, and the Rat went so

far as to take him by the shoulders and shake him; but nothing could overcome his stagefright. They were

all busily engaged on him like watermen applying the Royal Humane Society's regulations to a case of long

submersion, when the latch clicked, the door opened, and the fieldmouse with the lantern reappeared,

There was no more talk of playacting once the very real and solid contents of the basket had been tumbled

out on the table. Under the generalship of Rat, everybody was set to do something or to fetch something. In a

very few minutes supper was ready, and Mole, as he took the head of the table in a sort of a dream, saw a

lately barren board set thick with savoury comforts; saw his little friends' faces brighten and beam as they fell

to without delay; and then let himself loose for he was famished indeed on the provender so magically

provided, thinking what a happy homecoming this had turned out, after all. As they ate, they talked of old

times, and the fieldmice gave him the local gossip up to date, and answered as well as they could the

hundred questions he had to ask them. The Rat said little or nothing, only taking care that each guest had

what he wanted, and plenty of it, and that Mole had no trouble or anxiety about anything.

They clattered off at last, very grateful and showering wishes of the season, with their jacket pockets stuffed

with remembrances for the small brothers and sisters at home. When the door had closed on the last of them

and the chink of the lanterns had died away, Mole and Rat kicked the fire up, drew their chairs in, brewed

themselves a last nightcap of mulled ale, and discussed the events of the long day. At last the Rat, with a

tremendous yawn, said, `Mole, old chap, I'm ready to drop. Sleepy is simply not the word. That your own

bunk over on that side? Very well, then, I'll take this. What a ripping little house this is! Everything so

He clambered into his bunk and rolled himself well up in the blankets, and slumber gathered him forthwith,

The weary Mole also was glad to turn in without delay, and soon had his head on his pillow, in great joy and

contentment. But ere he closed his eyes he let them wander round his old room, mellow in the glow of the

firelight that played or rested on familiar and friendly things which had long been unconsciously a part of

him, and now smilingly received him back, without rancour. He was now in just the frame of mind that the

tactful Rat had quietly worked to bring about in him. He saw clearly how plain and simple how narrow,

even it all was; but clearly, too, how much it all meant to him, and the special value of some such

anchorage in one's existence. He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid spaces, to turn

his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep home and stay there; the upper world was all too

strong, it called to him still, even down there, and he knew he must return to the larger stage. But it was good

to think he had this to come back to; this place which was all his own, these things which were so glad to see

IT was a bright morning in the early part of summer; the river had resumed its wonted banks and its

accustomed pace, and a hot sun seemed to be pulling everything green and bushy and spiky up out of the

earth towards him, as if by strings. The Mole and the Water Rat had been up since dawn, very busy on

matters connected with boats and the opening of the boating season; painting and varnishing, mending

paddles, repairing cushions, hunting for missing boathooks, and so on; and were finishing breakfast in their

little parlour and eagerly discussing their plans for the day, when a heavy knock sounded at the door.

`Bother!' said the Rat, all over egg. `See who it is, Mole, like a good chap, since you've finished.'

The Mole went to attend the summons, and the Rat heard him utter a cry of surprise. Then he flung the

This was a wonderful thing, indeed, that the Badger should pay a formal call on them, or indeed on anybody.

He generally had to be caught, if you wanted him badly, as he slipped quietly along a hedgerow of an early

morning or a late evening, or else hunted up in his own house in the middle of the Wood, which was a serious

The Badger strode heavily into the room, and stood looking at the two animals with an expression full of

seriousness. The Rat let his eggspoon fall on the tablecloth, and sat openmouthed.

`Whose hour, you should rather say,' replied the Badger. `Why, Toad's hour! The hour of Toad! I said I

would take him in hand as soon as the winter was well over, and I'm going to take him in hand today!'

`Toad's hour, of course!' cried the Mole de lightedly. `Hooray! I remember now! We'll teach him to be a

`This very morning,' continued the Badger, taking an armchair, `as I learnt last night from a trustworthy

source, another new and exceptionally powerful motorcar will arrive at Toad Hall on approval or return. At

this very moment, perhaps, Toad is busy arraying himself in those singularly hideous habiliments so dear to

him, which transform him from a (comparatively) goodlooking Toad into an Object which throws any

decentminded animal that comes across it into a violent fit. We must be up and doing, ere it is too late. You

two animals will accompany me instantly to Toad Hall, and the work of rescue shall be accomplished.'

`Right you are!' cried the Rat, starting up. `We'll rescue the poor unhappy animal! We'll convert him! He'll be

They set off up the road on their mission of mercy, Badger leading the way. Animals when in company walk

in a proper and sensible manner, in single file, instead of sprawling all across the road and being of no use or

They reached the carriagedrive of Toad Hall to find, as the Badger had anticipated, a shiny new motorcar,

of great size, painted a bright red (Toad's favourite colour), standing in front of the house. As they neared the

door it was flung open, and Mr. Toad, arrayed in goggles, cap, gaiters, and enormous overcoat, came

`Hullo! come on, you fellows!' he cried cheerfully on catching sight of them. `You're just in time to come

His hearty accents faltered and fell away as he noticed the stern unbending look on the countenances of his

The Badger strode up the steps. `Take him inside,' he said sternly to his companions. Then, as Toad was

hustled through the door, struggling and protesting, he turned to the chauffeur in charge of the new

`I'm afraid you won't be wanted today,' he said. `Mr. Toad has changed his mind. He will not require the car.

Please understand that this is final. You needn't wait.' Then he followed the others inside and shut the door.

`Now then!' he said to the Toad, when the four of them stood together in the Hall, `first of all, take those

`Shan't!' replied Toad, with great spirit. `What is the meaning of this gross outrage? I demand an instant

They had to lay Toad out on the floor, kicking and calling all sorts of names, before they could get to work

properly. Then the Rat sat on him, and the Mole got his motorclothes off him bit by bit, and they stood him

up on his legs again. A good deal of his blustering spirit seemed to have evaporated with the removal of his

fine panoply. Now that he was merely Toad, and no longer the Terror of the Highway, he giggled feebly and

looked from one to the other appealingly, seeming quite to understand the situation.

`You knew it must come to this, sooner or later, Toad,' the Badger explained severely.

You've disregarded all the warnings we've given you, you've gone on squandering the money your father left

you, and you're getting us animals a bad name in the district by your furious driving and your smashes and

your rows with the police. Independence is all very well, but we animals never allow our friends to make

fools of themselves beyond a certain limit; and that limit you've reached. Now, you're a good fellow in many

respects, and I don't want to be too hard on you. I'll make one more effort to bring you to reason. You will

come with me into the smokingroom, and there you will hear some facts about yourself; and we'll see

He took Toad firmly by the arm, led him into the smokingroom, and closed the door behind them.

`That's no good!' said the Rat contemptuously. `Talking to Toad'll never cure him. He'll say anything.'

They made themselves comfortable in armchairs and waited patiently. Through the closed door they could

just hear the long continuous drone of the Badger's voice, rising and falling in waves of oratory; and presently

they noticed that the sermon began to be punctuated at intervals by longdrawn sobs, evidently proceeding

from the bosom of Toad, who was a softhearted and affectionate fellow, very easily converted for the

After some threequarters of an hour the door opened, and the Badger reappeared, solemnly leading by the

paw a very limp and dejected Toad. His skin hung baggily about him, his legs wobbled, and his cheeks were

furrowed by the tears so plentifully called forth by the Badger's moving discourse.

`Sit down there, Toad,' said the Badger kindly, pointing to a chair. `My friends,' he went on, `I am pleased to

inform you that Toad has at last seen the error of his ways. He is truly sorry for his misguided conduct in the

past, and he has undertaken to give up motorcars entirely and for ever. I have his solemn promise to that

He was looking very hard at Toad as he said this, and could not help thinking he perceived something

`There's only one thing more to be done,' continued the gratified Badger. `Toad, I want you solemnly to

repeat, before your friends here, what you fully admitted to me in the smokingroom just now. First, you are

There was a long, long pause. Toad looked desperately this way and that, while the other animals waited in

`No!' he said, a little sullenly, but stoutly; `I'm not sorry. And it wasn't folly at all! It was simply glorious!'

`What?' cried the Badger, greatly scandalised. `You backsliding animal, didn't you tell me just now, in there

`Oh, yes, yes, in there,' said Toad impatiently. `I'd have said anything in there. You're so eloquent, dear

Badger, and so moving, and so convincing, and put all your points so frightfully well you can do what you

like with me in there, and you know it. But I've been searching my mind since, and going over things in it,

and I find that I'm not a bit sorry or repentant really, so it's no earthly good saying I am; now, is it?'

`Certainly not!' replied Toad emphatically. `On the contrary, I faithfully promise that the very first motorcar

`Very well, then,' said the Badger firmly, rising to his feet. `Since you won't yield to persuasion, we'll try

what force can do. I feared it would come to this all along. You've often asked us three to come and stay with

you, Toad, in this handsome house of yours; well, now we're going to. When we've converted you to a proper

point of view we may quit, but not before. Take him upstairs, you two, and lock him up in his bedroom, while

`It's for your own good, Toady, you know,' said the Rat kindly, as Toad, kicking and struggling, was hauled

up the stairs by his two faithful friends. `Think what fun we shall all have together, just as we used to, when

`We'll take great care of everything for you till you're well, Toad,' said the Mole; `and we'll see your money

`No more of those regrettable incidents with the police, Toad,' said the Rat, as they thrust him into his

`And no more weeks in hospital, being ordered about by female nurses, Toad,' added the Mole, turning the

They descended the stair, Toad shouting abuse at them through the keyhole; and the three friends then met in

`It's going to be a tedious business,' said the Badger, sighing. `I've never seen Toad so determined. However,

we will see it out. He must never be left an instant unguarded. We shall have to take it in turns to be with

They arranged watches accordingly. Each animal took it in turns to sleep in Toad's room at night, and they

divided the day up between them. At first Toad was undoubtedly very trying to his careful guardians. When

his violent paroxysms possessed him he would arrange bedroom chairs in rude resemblance of a motorcar

and would crouch on the foremost of them, bent forward and staring fixedly ahead, making uncouth and

ghastly noises, till the climax was reached, when, turning a complete somersault, he would lie prostrate

amidst the ruins of the chairs, apparently completely satisfied for the moment. As time passed, however,

these painful seizures grew gradually less frequent, and his friends strove to divert his mind into fresh

channels. But his interest in other matters did not seem to revive, and he grew apparently languid and

One fine morning the Rat, whose turn it was to go on duty, went upstairs to relieve Badger, whom he found

fidgeting to be off and stretch his legs in a long ramble round his wood and down his earths and burrows.

`Toad's still in bed,' he told the Rat, outside the door. `Can't get much out of him, except, "O leave him alone,

he wants nothing, perhaps he'll be better presently, it may pass off in time, don't be unduly anxious," and so

on. Now, you look out, Rat! When Toad's quiet and submissive and playing at being the hero of a

Sundayschool prize, then he's at his artfullest. There's sure to be something up. I know him. Well, now, I

`How are you today, old chap?' inquired the Rat cheerfully, as he approached Toad's bedside.

He had to wait some minutes for an answer. At last a feeble voice replied, `Thank you so much, dear Ratty!

So good of you to inquire! But first tell me how you are yourself, and the excellent Mole?'

`O, we're all right,' replied the Rat. `Mole,' he added incautiously, `is going out for a run round with Badger.

They'll be out till luncheon time, so you and I will spend a pleasant morning together, and I'll do my best to

amuse you. Now jump up, there's a good fellow, and don't lie moping there on a fine morning like this!'

`Dear, kind Rat,' murmured Toad, `how little you realise my condition, and how very far I am from "jumping

up" now if ever! But do not trouble about me. I hate being a burden to my friends, and I do not expect to

`Well, I hope not, too,' said the Rat heartily. `You've been a fine bother to us all this time, and I'm glad to

hear it's going to stop. And in weather like this, and the boating season just beginning! It's too bad of you,

Toad! It isn't the trouble we mind, but you're making us miss such an awful lot.'

`I'm afraid it is the trouble you mind, though,' replied the Toad languidly. `I can quite understand it. It's

natural enough. You're tired of bothering about me. I mustn't ask you to do anything further. I'm a nuisance, I

`You are, indeed,' said the Rat. `But I tell you, I'd take any trouble on earth for you, if only you'd be a

`If I thought that, Ratty,' murmured Toad, more feebly than ever, `then I would beg you for the last time,

probably to step round to the village as quickly as possible even now it may be too late and fetch

the doctor. But don't you bother. It's only a trouble, and perhaps we may as well let things take their course.'

`Why, what do you want a doctor for?' inquired the Rat, coming closer and examining him. He certainly lay

`Surely you have noticed of late ' murmured Toad. `But, no why should you? Noticing things is

only a trouble. Tomorrow, indeed, you may be saying to yourself, "O, if only I had noticed sooner! If only I

`Look here, old man,' said the Rat, beginning to get rather alarmed, `of course I'll fetch a doctor to you, if you

really think you want him. But you can hardly be bad enough for that yet. Let's talk about something else.'

`I fear, dear friend,' said Toad, with a sad smile, `that "talk" can do little in a case like this or doctors

either, for that matter; still, one must grasp at the slightest straw. And, by the way while you are about it

I hate to give you additional trouble, but I happen to remember that you will pass the door would you

mind at the same time asking the lawyer to step up? It would be a convenience to me, and there are moments

perhaps I should say there is a moment when one must face disagreeable tasks, at whatever cost to

`A lawyer! O, he must be really bad!' the affrighted Rat said to himself, as he hurried from the room, not

Outside, he stopped to consider. The other two were far away, and he had no one to consult.

`It's best to be on the safe side,' he said, on reflection. `I've known Toad fancy himself frightfully bad before,

without the slightest reason; but I've never heard him ask for a lawyer! If there's nothing really the matter, the

doctor will tell him he's an old ass, and cheer him up; and that will be something gained. I'd better humour

him and go; it won't take very long.' So he ran off to the village on his errand of mercy.

The Toad, who had hopped lightly out of bed as soon as he heard the key turned in the lock, watched him

eagerly from the window till he disappeared down the carriagedrive. Then, laughing heartily, he dressed as

quickly as possible in the smartest suit he could lay hands on at the moment, filled his pockets with cash

which he took from a small drawer in the dressingtable, and next, knotting the sheets from his bed together

and tying one end of the improvised rope round the central mullion of the handsome Tudor window which

formed such a feature of his bedroom, he scrambled out, slid lightly to the ground, and, taking the opposite

It was a gloomy luncheon for Rat when the Badger and the Mole at length returned, and he had to face them

at table with his pitiful and unconvincing story. The Badger's caustic, not to say brutal, remarks may be

imagined, and therefore passed over; but it was painful to the Rat that even the Mole, though he took his

friend's side as far as possible, could not help saying, `You've been a bit of a duffer this time, Ratty! Toad,

`He did you awfully well!' rejoined the Badger hotly. `However, talking won't mend matters. He's got clear

away for the time, that's certain; and the worst of it is, he'll be so conceited with what he'll think is his

cleverness that he may commit any folly. One comfort is, we're free now, and needn't waste any more of our

precious time doing sentrygo. But we'd better continue to sleep at Toad Hall for a while longer. Toad may

So spoke the Badger, not knowing what the future held in store, or how much water, and of how turbid a

character, was to run under bridges before Toad should sit at ease again in his ancestral Hall.

Meanwhile, Toad, gay and irresponsible, was walking briskly along the high road, some miles from home. At

first he had taken bypaths, and crossed many fields, and changed his course several times, in case of pursuit;

but now, feeling by this time safe from recapture, and the sun smiling brightly on him, and all Nature joining

in a chorus of approval to the song of selfpraise that his own heart was singing to him, he almost danced

`Smart piece of work that!' he remarked to himself chuckling. `Brain against brute force and brain came

out on the top as it's bound to do. Poor old Ratty! My! won't he catch it when the Badger gets back! A

worthy fellow, Ratty, with many good qualities, but very little intelligence and absolutely no education. I

Filled full of conceited thoughts such as these he strode along, his head in the air, till he reached a little town,

where the sign of `The Red Lion,' swinging across the road halfway down the main street, reminded him that

he had not breakfasted that day, and that he was exceedingly hungry after his long walk. He marched into the

Inn, ordered the best luncheon that could be provided at so short a notice, and sat down to eat it in the

He was about halfway through his meal when an only too familiar sound, approaching down the street,

made him start and fall atrembling all over. The pooppoop! drew nearer and nearer, the car could be heard

to turn into the innyard and come to a stop, and Toad had to hold on to the leg of the table to conceal his

overmastering emotion. Presently the party entered the coffeeroom, hungry, talkative, and gay, voluble on

their experiences of the morning and the merits of the chariot that had brought them along so well. Toad

listened eagerly, all ears, for a time; at last he could stand it no longer. He slipped out of the room quietly,

paid his bill at the bar, and as soon as he got outside sauntered round quietly to the innyard. `There cannot

The car stood in the middle of the yard, quite unattended, the stablehelps and other hangerson being all at

their dinner. Toad walked slowly round it, inspecting, criticising, musing deeply.

`I wonder,' he said to himself presently, `I wonder if this sort of car starts easily?'

Next moment, hardly knowing how it came about, he found he had hold of the handle and was turning it. As

the familiar sound broke forth, the old passion seized on Toad and completely mastered him, body and soul.

As if in a dream he found himself, somehow, seated in the driver's seat; as if in a dream, he pulled the lever

and swung the car round the yard and out through the archway; and, as if in a dream, all sense of right and

wrong, all fear of obvious consequences, seemed temporarily suspended. He increased his pace, and as the

car devoured the street and leapt forth on the high road through the open country, he was only conscious that

he was Toad once more, Toad at his best and highest, Toad the terror, the trafficqueller, the Lord of the lone

trail, before whom all must give way or be smitten into nothingness and everlasting night. He chanted as he

flew, and the car responded with sonorous drone; the miles were eaten up under him as he sped he knew not

whither, fulfilling his instincts, living his hour, reckless of what might come to him. * * * * * *

`To my mind,' observed the Chairman of the Bench of Magistrates cheerfully, `the only difficulty that

presents itself in this otherwise very clear case is, how we can possibly make it sufficiently hot for the

incorrigible rogue and hardened ruffian whom we see cowering in the dock before us. Let me see: he has

been found guilty, on the clearest evidence, first, of stealing a valuable motorcar; secondly, of driving to the

public danger; and, thirdly, of gross impertinence to the rural police. Mr. Clerk, will you tell us, please, what

is the very stiffest penalty we can impose for each of these offences? Without, of course, giving the prisoner

The Clerk scratched his nose with his pen. `Some people would consider,' he observed, `that stealing the

motorcar was the worst offence; and so it is. But cheeking the police undoubtedly carries the severest

penalty; and so it ought. Supposing you were to say twelve months for the theft, which is mild; and three

years for the furious driving, which is lenient; and fifteen years for the cheek, which was pretty bad sort of

cheek, judging by what we've heard from the witnessbox, even if you only believe onetenth part of what

you heard, and I never believe more myself those figures, if added together correctly, tot up to nineteen

` So you had better make it a round twenty years and be on the safe side,' concluded the Clerk.

`An excellent suggestion!' said the Chairman approvingly. `Prisoner! Pull yourself together and try and stand

up straight. It's going to be twenty years for you this time. And mind, if you appear before us again, upon any

Then the brutal minions of the law fell upon the hapless Toad; loaded him with chains, and dragged him from

the Court House, shrieking, praying, protesting; across the marketplace, where the playful populace, always

as severe upon detected crime as they are sympathetic and helpful when one is merely `wanted,' assailed him

with jeers, carrots, and popular catchwords; past hooting school children, their innocent faces lit up with the

pleasure they ever derive from the sight of a gentleman in difficulties; across the hollowsounding

drawbridge, below the spiky portcullis, under the frowning archway of the grim old castle, whose ancient

towers soared high overhead; past guardrooms full of grinning soldiery off duty, past sentries who coughed in

a horrid, sarcastic way, because that is as much as a sentry on his post dare do to show his contempt and

abhorrence of crime; up timeworn winding stairs, past menatarms in casquet and corselet of steel, darting

threatening looks through their vizards; across courtyards, where mastiffs strained at their leash and pawed

the air to get at him; past ancient warders, their halberds leant against the wall, dozing over a pasty and a

flagon of brown ale; on and on, past the rackchamber and the thumbscrewroom, past the turning that led to

the private scaffold, till they reached the door of the grimmest dungeon that lay in the heart of the innermost

keep. There at last they paused, where an ancient gaoler sat fingering a bunch of mighty keys.

`Oddsbodikins!' said the sergeant of police, taking off his helmet and wiping his forehead. `Rouse thee, old

loon, and take over from us this vile Toad, a criminal of deepest guilt and matchless artfulness and resource.

Watch and ward him with all thy skill; and mark thee well, greybeard, should aught untoward befall, thy old

The gaoler nodded grimly, laying his withered hand on the shoulder of the miserable Toad. The rusty key

creaked in the lock, the great door clanged behind them; and Toad was a helpless prisoner in the remotest

dungeon of the bestguarded keep of the stoutest castle in all the length and breadth of Merry England.

THE WillowWren was twittering his thin little song, hidden himself in the dark selvedge of the river bank.

Though it was past ten o'clock at night, the sky still clung to and retained some lingering skirts of light from

the departed day; and the sullen heats of the torrid afternoon broke up and rolled away at the dispersing touch

of the cool fingers of the short midsummer night. Mole lay stretched on the bank, still panting from the stress

of the fierce day that had been cloudless from dawn to late sunset, and waited for his friend to return. He had

been on the river with some companions, leaving the Water Rat free to keep a engagement of long standing

with Otter; and he had come back to find the house dark and deserted, and no sign of Rat, who was doubtless

keeping it up late with his old comrade. It was still too hot to think of staying indoors, so he lay on some cool

dockleaves, and thought over the past day and its doings, and how very good they all had been.

The Rat's light footfall was presently heard approaching over the parched grass. `O, the blessed coolness!' he

`Simply had to,' said the Rat. `They wouldn't hear of my going before. You know how kind they always are.

And they made things as jolly for me as ever they could, right up to the moment I left. But I felt a brute all

the time, as it was clear to me they were very unhappy, though they tried to hide it. Mole, I'm afraid they're in

trouble. Little Portly is missing again; and you know what a lot his father thinks of him, though he never says

`What, that child?' said the Mole lightly. `Well, suppose he is; why worry about it? He's always straying off

and getting lost, and turning up again; he's so adventurous. But no harm ever happens to him. Everybody

hereabouts knows him and likes him, just as they do old Otter, and you may be sure some animal or other

will come across him and bring him back again all right. Why, we've found him ourselves, miles from home,

`Yes; but this time it's more serious,' said the Rat gravely. `He's been missing for some days now, and the

Otters have hunted everywhere, high and low, without finding the slightest trace. And they've asked every

animal, too, for miles around, and no one knows anything about him. Otter's evidently more anxious than

he'll admit. I got out of him that young Portly hasn't learnt to swim very well yet, and I can see he's thinking

of the weir. There's a lot of water coming down still, considering the time of the year, and the place always

had a fascination for the child. And then there are well, traps and things you know. Otter's not the

fellow to be nervous about any son of his before it's time. And now he is nervous. When I left, he came out

with me said he wanted some air, and talked about stretching his legs. But I could see it wasn't that, so I

drew him out and pumped him, and got it all from him at last. He was going to spend the night watching by

the ford. You know the place where the old ford used to be, in bygone days before they built the bridge?'

`Well, it seems that it was there he gave Portly his first swimminglesson,' continued the Rat. `From that

shallow, gravelly spit near the bank. And it was there he used to teach him fishing, and there young Portly

caught his first fish, of which he was so very proud. The child loved the spot, and Otter thinks that if he came

wandering back from wherever he is if he is anywhere by this time, poor little chap he might make for

the ford he was so fond of; or if he came across it he'd remember it well, and stop there and play, perhaps. So

Otter goes there every night and watches on the chance, you know, just on the chance!'

They were silent for a time, both thinking of the same thing the lonely, heartsore animal, crouched by the

`Well, well,' said the Rat presently, `I suppose we ought to be thinking about turning in.' But he never offered

`Rat,' said the Mole, `I simply can't go and turn in, and go to sleep, and do nothing, even though there doesn't

seem to be anything to be done. We'll get the boat out, and paddle up stream. The moon will be up in an hour

or so, and then we will search as well as we can anyhow, it will be better than going to bed and doing

`Just what I was thinking myself,' said the Rat. `It's not the sort of night for bed anyhow; and daybreak is not

so very far off, and then we may pick up some news of him from early risers as we go along.'

They got the boat out, and the Rat took the sculls, paddling with caution. Out in midstream, there was a clear,

narrow track that faintly reflected the sky; but wherever shadows fell on the water from bank, bush, or tree,

they were as solid to all appearance as the banks themselves, and the Mole had to steer with judgment

accordingly. Dark and deserted as it was, the night was full of small noises, song and chatter and rustling,

telling of the busy little population who were up and about, plying their trades and vocations through the

night till sunshine should fall on them at last and send them off to their wellearned repose. The water's own

noises, too, were more apparent than by day, its gurglings and `cloops' more unexpected and near at hand;

and constantly they started at what seemed a sudden clear call from an actual articulate voice.

The line of the horizon was clear and hard against the sky, and in one particular quarter it showed black

against a silvery climbing phosphorescence that grew and grew. At last, over the rim of the waiting earth the

moon lifted with slow majesty till it swung clear of the horizon and rode off, free of moorings; and once more

they began to see surfaces meadows widespread, and quiet gardens, and the river itself from bank to

bank, all softly disclosed, all washed clean of mystery and terror, all radiant again as by day, but with a

difference that was tremendous. Their old haunts greeted them again in other raiment, as if they had slipped

away and put on this pure new apparel and come quietly back, smiling as they shyly waited to see if they

Fastening their boat to a willow, the friends landed in this silent, silver kingdom, and patiently explored the

hedges, the hollow trees, the runnels and their little culverts, the ditches and dry waterways. Embarking

again and crossing over, they worked their way up the stream in this manner, while the moon, serene and

detached in a cloudless sky, did what she could, though so far off, to help them in their quest; till her hour

came and she sank earthwards reluctantly, and left them, and mystery once more held field and river.

Then a change began slowly to declare itself. The horizon became clearer, field and tree came more into

sight, and somehow with a different look; the mystery began to drop away from them. A bird piped suddenly,

and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the reeds and bulrushes rustling. Rat, who was in the stern

of the boat, while Mole sculled, sat up suddenly and listened with a passionate intentness. Mole, who with

gentle strokes was just keeping the boat moving while he scanned the banks with care, looked at him with

`It's gone!' sighed the Rat, sinking back in his seat again. `So beautiful and strange and new. Since it was to

end so soon, I almost wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is pain, and nothing

seems worth while but just to hear that sound once more and go on listening to it for ever. No! There it is

again!' he cried, alert once more. Entranced, he was silent for a long space, spellbound.

`Now it passes on and I begin to lose it,' he said presently. `O Mole! the beauty of it! The merry bubble and

joy, the thin, clear, happy call of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in it is

stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the music and the call must be for us.'

The Mole, greatly wondering, obeyed. `I hear nothing myself,' he said, `but the wind playing in the reeds and

The Rat never answered, if indeed he heard. Rapt, transported, trembling, he was possessed in all his senses

by this new divine thing that caught up his helpless soul and swung and dandled it, a powerless but happy

In silence Mole rowed steadily, and soon they came to a point where the river divided, a long backwater

branching off to one side. With a slight movement of his head Rat, who had long dropped the rudderlines,

directed the rower to take the backwater. The creeping tide of light gained and gained, and now they could

`Clearer and nearer still,' cried the Rat joyously. `Now you must surely hear it! Ah at last I see you do!'

Breathless and transfixed the Mole stopped rowing as the liquid run of that glad piping broke on him like a

wave, caught him up, and possessed him utterly. He saw the tears on his comrade's cheeks, and bowed his

head and understood. For a space they hung there, brushed by the purple loosestrife that fringed the bank;

then the clear imperious summons that marched handinhand with the intoxicating melody imposed its will

on Mole, and mechanically he bent to his oars again. And the light grew steadily stronger, but no birds sang

as they were wont to do at the approach of dawn; and but for the heavenly music all was marvellously still.

On either side of them, as they glided onwards, the rich meadowgrass seemed that morning of a freshness

and a greenness unsurpassable. Never had they noticed the roses so vivid, the willowherb so riotous, the

meadowsweet so odorous and pervading. Then the murmur of the approaching weir began to hold the air,

and they felt a consciousness that they were nearing the end, whatever it might be, that surely awaited their

A wide halfcircle of foam and glinting lights and shining shoulders of green water, the great weir closed the

backwater from bank to bank, troubled all the quiet surface with twirling eddies and floating foamstreaks,

and deadened all other sounds with its solemn and soothing rumble. In midmost of the stream, embraced in

the weir's shimmering armspread, a small island lay anchored, fringed close with willow and silver birch

and alder. Reserved, shy, but full of significance, it hid whatever it might hold behind a veil, keeping it till

Slowly, but with no doubt or hesitation whatever, and in something of a solemn expectancy, the two animals

passed through the broken tumultuous water and moored their boat at the flowery margin of the island. In

silence they landed, and pushed through the blossom and scented herbage and undergrowth that led up to the

level ground, till they stood on a little lawn of a marvellous green, set round with Nature's own orchardtrees

`This is the place of my songdream, the place the music played to me,' whispered the Rat, as if in a trance.

Then suddenly the Mole felt a great Awe fall upon him, an awe that turned his muscles to water, bowed his

head, and rooted his feet to the ground. It was no panic terror indeed he felt wonderfully at peace and

happy but it was an awe that smote and held him and, without seeing, he knew it could only mean that

some august Presence was very, very near. With difficulty he turned to look for his friend. and saw him at his

side cowed, stricken, and trembling violently. And still there was utter silence in the populous birdhaunted

Perhaps he would never have dared to raise his eyes, but that, though the piping was now hushed, the call and

the summons seemed still dominant and imperious. He might not refuse, were Death himself waiting to strike

him instantly, once he had looked with mortal eye on things rightly kept hidden. Trembling he obeyed, and

raised his humble head; and then, in that utter clearness of the imminent dawn, while Nature, flushed with

fulness of incredible colour, seemed to hold her breath for the event, he looked in the very eyes of the Friend

and Helper; saw the backward sweep of the curved horns, gleaming in the growing daylight; saw the stern,

hooked nose between the kindly eyes that were looking down on them humourously, while the bearded

mouth broke into a halfsmile at the corners; saw the rippling muscles on the arm that lay across the broad

chest, the long supple hand still holding the panpipes only just fallen away from the parted lips; saw the

splendid curves of the shaggy limbs disposed in majestic ease on the sward; saw, last of all, nestling between

his very hooves, sleeping soundly in entire peace and contentment, the little, round, podgy, childish form of

the baby otter. All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as

`Afraid?' murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love. `Afraid! Of Him? O, never, never! And

Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.

Sudden and magnificent, the sun's broad golden disc showed itself over the horizon facing them; and the first

rays, shooting across the level watermeadows, took the animals full in the eyes and dazzled them. When

they were able to look once more, the Vision had vanished, and the air was full of the carol of birds that

As they stared blankly. in dumb misery deepening as they slowly realised all they had seen and all they had

lost, a capricious little breeze, dancing up from the surface of the water, tossed the aspens, shook the dewy

roses and blew lightly and caressingly in their faces; and with its soft touch came instant oblivion. For this is

the last best gift that the kindly demigod is careful to bestow on those to whom he has revealed himself in

their helping: the gift of forgetfulness. Lest the awful remembrance should remain and grow, and overshadow

mirth and pleasure, and the great haunting memory should spoil all the afterlives of little animals helped out

Mole rubbed his eyes and stared at Rat, who was looking about him in a puzzled sort of way. `I beg your

`I think I was only remarking,' said Rat slowly, `that this was the right sort of place, and that here, if

anywhere, we should find him. And look! Why, there he is, the little fellow!' And with a cry of delight he ran

But Mole stood still a moment, held in thought. As one wakened suddenly from a beautiful dream, who

struggles to recall it, and can recapture nothing but a dim sense of the beauty of it, the beauty! Till that, too,

fades away in its turn, and the dreamer bitterly accepts the hard, cold waking and all its penalties; so Mole,

after struggling with his memory for a brief space, shook his head sadly and followed the Rat.

Portly woke up with a joyous squeak, and wriggled with pleasure at the sight of his father's friends, who had

played with him so often in past days. In a moment, however, his face grew blank, and he fell to hunting

round in a circle with pleading whine. As a child that has fallen happily asleep in its nurse's arms, and wakes

to find itself alone and laid in a strange place, and searches corners and cupboards, and runs from room to

room, despair growing silently in its heart, even so Portly searched the island and searched, dogged and

unwearying, till at last the black moment came for giving it up, and sitting down and crying bitterly.

The Mole ran quickly to comfort the little animal; but Rat, lingering, looked long and doubtfully at certain

`Some great animal has been here,' he murmured slowly and thoughtfully; and stood musing,

`Come along, Rat!' called the Mole. `Think of poor Otter, waiting up there by the ford!'

Portly had soon been comforted by the promise of a treat a jaunt on the river in Mr. Rat's real boat; and

the two animals conducted him to the water's side, placed him securely between them in the bottom of the

boat, and paddled off down the backwater. The sun was fully up by now, and hot on them, birds sang lustily

and without restraint, and flowers smiled and nodded from either bank, but somehow so thought the

animals with less of richness and blaze of colour than they seemed to remember seeing quite recently

The main river reached again, they turned the boat's head upstream, towards the point where they knew their

friend was keeping his lonely vigil. As they drew near the familiar ford, the Mole took the boat in to the bank,

and they lifted Portly out and set him on his legs on the towpath, gave him his marching orders and a

friendly farewell pat on the back, and shoved out into midstream. They watched the little animal as he

waddled along the path contentedly and with importance; watched him till they saw his muzzle suddenly lift

and his waddle break into a clumsy amble as he quickened his pace with shrill whines and wriggles of

recognition. Looking up the river, they could see Otter start up, tense and rigid, from out of the shallows

where he crouched in dumb patience, and could hear his amazed and joyous bark as he bounded up through

the osiers on to the path. Then the Mole, with a strong pull on one oar, swung the boat round and let the full

`I feel strangely tired, Rat,' said the Mole, leaning wearily over his oars as the boat drifted. `It's being up all

night, you'll say, perhaps; but that's nothing. We do as much half the nights of the week, at this time of the

year. No; I feel as if I had been through something very exciting and rather terrible, and it was just over; and

`Or something very surprising and splendid and beautiful,' murmured the Rat, leaning back and closing his

eyes. `I feel just as you do, Mole; simply dead tired, though not body tired. It's lucky we've got the stream

with us, to take us home. Isn't it jolly to feel the sun again, soaking into one's bones! And hark to the wind

`So I was thinking,' murmured the Rat, dreamful and languid. `Dancemusic the lilting sort that runs on

without a stop but with words in it, too it passes into words and out of them again I catch them at

intervals then it is dancemusic once more, and then nothing but the reeds' soft thin whispering.'

`Let me try and give you them,' said the Rat softly, his eyes still closed. `Now it is turning into words again

faint but clear Lest the awe should dwell And turn your frolic to fret You shall look on my

power at the helping hour But then you shall forget! Now the reeds take it up forget, forget, they sigh,

`Lest limbs be reddened and rent I spring the trap that is set As I loose the snare you may glimpse me

there For surely you shall forget! Row nearer, Mole, nearer to the reeds! It is hard to catch, and grows

`Helper and healer, I cheer Small waifs in the woodland wet Strays I find in it, wounds I bind in it

Bidding them all forget! Nearer, Mole, nearer! No, it is no good; the song has died away into reedtalk.'

`That I do not know,' said the Rat simply. `I passed them on to you as they reached me. Ah! now they return

again, and this time full and clear! This time, at last, it is the real, the unmistakable thing, simple

`Well, let's have it, then,' said the Mole, after he had waited patiently for a few minutes, halfdozing in the

But no answer came. He looked, and understood the silence. With a smile of much happiness on his face, and

something of a listening look still lingering there, the weary Rat was fast asleep.

WHEN Toad found himself immured in a dank and noisome dungeon, and knew that all the grim darkness of

a medieval fortress lay between him and the outer world of sunshine and wellmetalled high roads where he

had lately been so happy, disporting himself as if he had bought up every road in England, he flung himself at

full length on the floor, and shed bitter tears, and abandoned himself to dark despair. `This is the end of

everything' (he said), `at least it is the end of the career of Toad, which is the same thing; the popular and

handsome Toad, the rich and hospitable Toad, the Toad so free and careless and debonair! How can I hope to

be ever set at large again' (he said), `who have been imprisoned so justly for stealing so handsome a

motorcar in such an audacious manner, and for such lurid and imaginative cheek, bestowed upon such a

number of fat, redfaced policemen!' (Here his sobs choked him.) `Stupid animal that I was' (he said), `now I

must languish in this dungeon, till people who were proud to say they knew me, have forgotten the very name

of Toad! O wise old Badger!' (he said), `O clever, intelligent Rat and sensible Mole! What sound judgments,

what a knowledge of men and matters you possess! O unhappy and forsaken Toad!' With lamentations such

as these he passed his days and nights for several weeks, refusing his meals or intermediate light

refreshments, though the grim and ancient gaoler, knowing that Toad's pockets were well lined, frequently

pointed out that many comforts, and indeed luxuries, could by arrangement be sent in at a price from

Now the gaoler had a daughter, a pleasant wench and goodhearted, who assisted her father in the lighter

duties of his post. She was particularly fond of animals, and, besides her canary, whose cage hung on a nail in

the massive wall of the keep by day, to the great annoyance of prisoners who relished an after dinner nap, and

was shrouded in an antimacassar on the parlour table at night, she kept several piebald mice and a restless

revolving squirrel. This kindhearted girl, pitying the misery of Toad, said to her father one day, `Father! I

can't bear to see that poor beast so unhappy, and getting so thin! You let me have the managing of him. You

know how fond of animals I am. I'll make him eat from my hand, and sit up, and do all sorts of things.'

Her father replied that she could do what she liked with him. He was tired of Toad, and his sulks and his airs

and his meanness. So that day she went on her errand of mercy, and knocked at the door of Toad's cell.

`Now, cheer up, Toad,' she said, coaxingly, on entering, `and sit up and dry your eyes and be a sensible

animal. And do try and eat a bit of dinner. See, I've brought you some of mine, hot from the oven!'

It was bubbleandsqueak, between two plates, and its fragrance filled the narrow cell. The penetrating smell

of cabbage reached the nose of Toad as he lay prostrate in his misery on the floor, and gave him the idea for a

moment that perhaps life was not such a blank and desperate thing as he had imagined. But still he wailed,

and kicked with his legs, and refused to be comforted. So the wise girl retired for the time, but, of course, a

good deal of the smell of hot cabbage remained behind, as it will do, and Toad, between his sobs, sniffed and

reflected, and gradually began to think new and inspiring thoughts: of chivalry, and poetry, and deeds still to

be done; of broad meadows, and cattle browsing in them, raked by sun and wind; of kitchengardens, and

straight herbborders, and warm snapdragon beset by bees; and of the comforting clink of dishes set down

on the table at Toad Hall, and the scrape of chairlegs on the floor as every one pulled himself close up to his

work. The air of the narrow cell took a rosy tinge; he began to think of his friends, and how they would surely

be able to do something; of lawyers, and how they would have enjoyed his case, and what an ass he had been

not to get in a few; and lastly, he thought of his own great cleverness and resource, and all that he was

capable of if he only gave his great mind to it; and the cure was almost complete.

When the girl returned, some hours later, she carried a tray, with a cup of fragrant tea steaming on it; and a

plate piled up with very hot buttered toast, cut thick, very brown on both sides, with the butter running

through the holes in it in great golden drops, like honey from the honeycomb. The smell of that buttered toast

simply talked to Toad, and with no uncertain voice; talked of warm kitchens, of breakfasts on bright frosty

mornings, of cosy parlour firesides on winter evenings, when one's ramble was over and slippered feet were

propped on the fender; of the purring of contented cats, and the twitter of sleepy canaries. Toad sat up on end

once more, dried his eyes, sipped his tea and munched his toast, and soon began talking freely about himself,

and the house he lived in, and his doings there, and how important he was, and what a lot his friends thought

The gaoler's daughter saw that the topic was doing him as much good as the tea, as indeed it was, and

`Toad Hall,' said the Toad proudly, `is an eligible selfcontained gentleman's residence very unique; dating in

part from the fourteenth century, but replete with every modern convenience. Uptodate sanitation. Five

`Bless the animal,' said the girl, laughing, `I don't want to take it. Tell me something real about it. But first

She tripped away, and presently returned with a fresh trayful; and Toad, pitching into the toast with avidity,

his spirits quite restored to their usual level, told her about the boathouse, and the fishpond, and the old

walled kitchengarden; and about the pigstyes, and the stables, and the pigeonhouse, and the henhouse;

and about the dairy, and the washhouse, and the chinacupboards, and the linenpresses (she liked that bit

especially); and about the banquetinghall, and the fun they had there when the other animals were gathered

round the table and Toad was at his best, singing songs, telling stories, carrying on generally. Then she

wanted to know about his animalfriends, and was very interested in all he had to tell her about them and

how they lived, and what they did to pass their time. Of course, she did not say she was fond of animals as

pets, because she had the sense to see that Toad would be extremely offended. When she said good night,

having filled his waterjug and shaken up his straw for him, Toad was very much the same sanguine,

selfsatisfied animal that he had been of old. He sang a little song or two, of the sort he used to sing at his

dinner parties, curled himself up in the straw, and had an excellent night's rest and the pleasantest of

They had many interesting talks together, after that, as the dreary days went on; and the gaoler's daughter

grew very sorry for Toad, and thought it a great shame that a poor little animal should be locked up in prison

for what seemed to her a very trivial offence. Toad, of course, in his vanity, thought that her interest in him

proceeded from a growing tenderness; and he could not help halfregretting that the social gulf between them

was so very wide, for she was a comely lass, and evidently admired him very much.

One morning the girl was very thoughtful, and answered at random, and did not seem to Toad to be paying

`Toad,' she said presently, `just listen, please. I have an aunt who is a washerwoman.'

`There, there,' said Toad, graciously and affably, `never mind; think no more about it. I have several aunts

`Do be quiet a minute, Toad,' said the girl. `You talk too much, that's your chief fault, and I'm trying to think,

and you hurt my head. As I said, I have an aunt who is a washerwoman; she does the washing for all the

prisoners in this castle we try to keep any paying business of that sort in the family, you understand. She

takes out the washing on Monday morning, and brings it in on Friday evening. This is a Thursday. Now, this

is what occurs to me: you're very rich at least you're always telling me so and she's very poor. A few

pounds wouldn't make any difference to you, and it would mean a lot to her. Now, I think if she were

properly approached squared, I believe is the word you animals use you could come to some

arrangement by which she would let you have her dress and bonnet and so on, and you could escape from the

castle as the official washerwoman. You're very alike in many respects particularly about the figure.'

`We're not,' said the Toad in a huff. `I have a very elegant figure for what I am.'

`So has my aunt,' replied the girl, `for what she is. But have it your own way. You horrid, proud, ungrateful

`Yes, yes, that's all right; thank you very much indeed,' said the Toad hurriedly. `But look here! you wouldn't

surely have Mr. Toad of Toad Hall, going about the country disguised as a washerwoman!'

`Then you can stop here as a Toad,' replied the girl with much spirit. `I suppose you want to go off in a

Honest Toad was always ready to admit himself in the wrong. `You are a good, kind, clever girl,' he said,

`and I am indeed a proud and a stupid toad. Introduce me to your worthy aunt, if you will be so kind, and I

have no doubt that the excellent lady and I will be able to arrange terms satisfactory to both parties.'

Next evening the girl ushered her aunt into Toad's cell, bearing his week's washing pinned up in a towel. The

old lady had been prepared beforehand for the interview, and the sight of certain gold sovereigns that Toad

had thoughtfully placed on the table in full view practically completed the matter and left little further to

discuss. In return for his cash, Toad received a cotton print gown, an apron, a shawl, and a rusty black bonnet;

the only stipulation the old lady made being that she should be gagged and bound and dumped down in a

corner. By this not very convincing artifice, she explained, aided by picturesque fiction which she could

supply herself, she hoped to retain her situation, in spite of the suspicious appearance of things.

Toad was delighted with the suggestion. It would enable him to leave the prison in some style, and with his

reputation for being a desperate and dangerous fellow untarnished; and he readily helped the gaoler's

daughter to make her aunt appear as much as possible the victim of circumstances over which she had no

`Now it's your turn, Toad,' said the girl. `Take off that coat and waistcoat of yours; you're fat enough as it is.'

Shaking with laughter, she proceeded to `hookandeye' him into the cotton print gown, arranged the shawl

with a professional fold, and tied the strings of the rusty bonnet under his chin.

`You're the very image of her,' she giggled, `only I'm sure you never looked half so respectable in all your life

before. Now, goodbye, Toad, and good luck. Go straight down the way you came up; and if any one says

anything to you, as they probably will, being but men, you can chaff back a bit, of course, but remember

With a quaking heart, but as firm a footstep as he could command, Toad set forth cautiously on what seemed

to be a most harebrained and hazardous undertaking; but he was soon agreeably surprised to find how easy

everything was made for him, and a little humbled at the thought that both his popularity, and the sex that

seemed to inspire it, were really another's. The washerwoman's squat figure in its familiar cotton print seemed

a passport for every barred door and grim gateway; even when he hesitated, uncertain as to the right turning

to take, he found himself helped out of his difficulty by the warder at the next gate, anxious to be off to his

tea, summoning him to come along sharp and not keep him waiting there all night. The chaff and the

humourous sallies to which he was subjected, and to which, of course, he had to provide prompt and effective

reply, formed, indeed, his chief danger; for Toad was an animal with a strong sense of his own dignity, and

the chaff was mostly (he thought) poor and clumsy, and the humour of the sallies entirely lacking. However,

he kept his temper, though with great difficulty, suited his retorts to his company and his supposed character,

It seemed hours before he crossed the last courtyard, rejected the pressing invitations from the last

guardroom, and dodged the outspread arms of the last warder, pleading with simulated passion for just one

farewell embrace. But at last he heard the wicketgate in the great outer door click behind him, felt the fresh

Dizzy with the easy success of his daring exploit, he walked quickly towards the lights of the town, not

knowing in the least what he should do next, only quite certain of one thing, that he must remove himself as

quickly as possible from the neighbourhood where the lady he was forced to represent was so wellknown

As he walked along, considering, his attention was caught by some red and green lights a little way off, to

one side of the town, and the sound of the puffing and snorting of engines and the banging of shunted trucks

fell on his ear. `Aha!' he thought, `this is a piece of luck! A railway station is the thing I want most in the

whole world at this moment; and what's more, I needn't go through the town to get it, and shan't have to

support this humiliating character by repartees which, though thoroughly effective, do not assist one's sense

He made his way to the station accordingly, consulted a timetable, and found that a train, bound more or

less in the direction of his home, was due to start in halfanhour. `More luck!' said Toad, his spirits rising

He gave the name of the station that he knew to be nearest to the village of which Toad Hall was the principal

feature, and mechanically put his fingers, in search of the necessary money, where his waiscoat pocket should

have been. But here the cotton gown, which had nobly stood by him so far, and which he had basely

forgotten, intervened, and frustrated his efforts. In a sort of nightmare he struggled with the strange uncanny

thing that seemed to hold his hands, turn all muscular strivings to water, and laugh at him all the time; while

other travellers, forming up in a line behind, waited with impatience, making suggestions of more or less

value and comments of more or less stringency and point. At last somehow he never rightly

understood how he burst the barriers, attained the goal, arrived at where all waistcoat pockets are eternally

situated, and found not only no money, but no pocket to hold it, and no waistcoat to hold the pocket!

To his horror he recollected that he had left both coat and waistcoat behind him in his cell, and with them his

pocketbook, money, keys, watch, matches, pencilcase all that makes life worth living, all that

distinguishes the many pocketed animal, the lord of creation, from the inferior onepocketed or

nopocketed productions that hop or trip about permissively, unequipped for the real contest.

In his misery he made one desperate effort to carry the thing off, and, with a return to his fine old manner

a blend of the Squire and the College Don he said, `Look here! I find I've left my purse behind. Just give

me that ticket, will you, and I'll send the money on tomorrow? I'm wellknown in these parts.'

The clerk stared at him and the rusty black bonnet a moment, and then laughed. `I should think you were

pretty well known in these parts,' he said, `if you've tried this game on often. Here, stand away from the

An old gentleman who had been prodding him in the back for some moments here thrust him away, and, what

was worse, addressed him as his good woman, which angered Toad more than anything that had occurred that

Baffled and full of despair, he wandered blindly down the platform where the train was standing, and tears

trickled down each side of his nose. It was hard, he thought, to be within sight of safety and almost of home,

and to be baulked by the want of a few wretched shillings and by the pettifogging mistrustfulness of paid

officials. Very soon his escape would be discovered, the hunt would be up, he would be caught, reviled,

loaded with chains, dragged back again to prison and breadandwater and straw; his guards and penalities

would be doubled; and O, what sarcastic remarks the girl would make! What was to be done? He was not

swift of foot; his figure was unfortunately recognisable. Could he not squeeze under the seat of a carriage? He

had seen this method adopted by schoolboys, when the journeymoney provided by thoughtful parents had

been diverted to other and better ends. As he pondered, he found himself opposite the engine, which was

being oiled, wiped, and generally caressed by its affectionate driver, a burly man with an oilcan in one hand

`Hullo, mother!' said the enginedriver, `what's the trouble? You don't look particularly cheerful.'

`O, sir!' said Toad, crying afresh, `I am a poor unhappy washerwoman, and I've lost all my money, and can't

pay for a ticket, and I must get home tonight somehow, and whatever I am to do I don't know. O dear, O

`That's a bad business, indeed,' said the enginedriver reflectively. `Lost your money and can't get home

`Any amount of 'em,' sobbed Toad. `And they'll be hungry and playing with matches and upsetting

lamps, the little innocents! and quarrelling, and going on generally. O dear, O dear!'

`Well, I'll tell you what I'll do,' said the good enginedriver. `You're a washerwoman to your trade, says you.

Very well, that's that. And I'm an enginedriver, as you well may see, and there's no denying it's terribly dirty

work. Uses up a power of shirts, it does, till my missus is fair tired of washing of 'em. If you'll wash a few

shirts for me when you get home, and send 'em along, I'll give you a ride on my engine. It's against the

Company's regulations, but we're not so very particular in these outoftheway parts.'

The Toad's misery turned into rapture as he eagerly scrambled up into the cab of the engine. Of course, he

had never washed a shirt in his life, and couldn't if he tried and, anyhow, he wasn't going to begin; but he

thought: `When I get safely home to Toad Hall, and have money again, and pockets to put it in, I will send

the enginedriver enough to pay for quite a quantity of washing, and that will be the same thing, or better.'

The guard waved his welcome flag, the enginedriver whistled in cheerful response, and the train moved out

of the station. As the speed increased, and the Toad could see on either side of him real fields, and trees, and

hedges, and cows, and horses, all flying past him, and as he thought how every minute was bringing him

nearer to Toad Hall, and sympathetic friends, and money to chink in his pocket, and a soft bed to sleep in, and

good things to eat, and praise and admiration at the recital of his adventures and his surpassing cleverness, he

began to skip up and down and shout and sing snatches of song, to the great astonishment of the

enginedriver, who had come across washerwomen before, at long intervals, but never one at all like this.

They had covered many and many a mile, and Toad was already considering what he would have for supper

as soon as he got home, when he noticed that the enginedriver, with a puzzled expression on his face, was

leaning over the side of the engine and listening hard. Then he saw him climb on to the coals and gaze out

over the top of the train; then he returned and said to Toad: `It's very strange; we're the last train running in

this direction tonight, yet I could be sworn that I heard another following us!'

Toad ceased his frivolous antics at once. He became grave and depressed, and a dull pain in the lower part of

his spine, communicating itself to his legs, made him want to sit down and try desperately not to think of all

By this time the moon was shining brightly, and the enginedriver, steadying himself on the coal, could

Presently he called out, `I can see it clearly now! It is an engine, on our rails, coming along at a great pace! It

The miserable Toad, crouching in the coal dust, tried hard to think of something to do, with dismal want of

`They are gaining on us fast!' cried the enginedriver. And the engine is crowded with the queerest lot of

people! Men like ancient warders, waving halberds; policemen in their helmets, waving truncheons; and

shabbily dressed men in pothats, obvious and unmistakable plainclothes detectives even at this distance,

waving revolvers and walkingsticks; all waving, and all shouting the same thing "Stop, stop, stop!"'

Then Toad fell on his knees among the coals and, raising his clasped paws in supplication, cried, `Save me,

only save me, dear kind Mr. Enginedriver, and I will confess everything! I am not the simple washerwoman

I seem to be! I have no children waiting for me, innocent or otherwise! I am a toad the wellknown and

popular Mr. Toad, a landed proprietor; I have just escaped, by my great daring and cleverness, from a

loathsome dungeon into which my enemies had flung me; and if those fellows on that engine recapture me, it

will be chains and breadandwater and straw and misery once more for poor, unhappy, innocent Toad!'

The enginedriver looked down upon him very sternly, and said, `Now tell the truth; what were you put in

`It was nothing very much,' said poor Toad, colouring deeply. `I only borrowed a motorcar while the owners

were at lunch; they had no need of it at the time. I didn't mean to steal it, really; but people especially

The enginedriver looked very grave and said, `I fear that you have been indeed a wicked toad, and by rights

I ought to give you up to offended justice. But you are evidently in sore trouble and distress, so I will not

desert you. I don't hold with motorcars, for one thing; and I don't hold with being ordered about by

policemen when I'm on my own engine, for another. And the sight of an animal in tears always makes me

feel queer and softhearted. So cheer up, Toad! I'll do my best, and we may beat them yet!'

They piled on more coals, shovelling furiously; the furnace roared, the sparks flew, the engine leapt and

swung but still their pursuers slowly gained. The enginedriver, with a sigh, wiped his brow with a handful

of cottonwaste, and said, `I'm afraid it's no good, Toad. You see, they are running light, and they have the

better engine. There's just one thing left for us to do, and it's your only chance, so attend very carefully to

what I tell you. A short way ahead of us is a long tunnel, and on the other side of that the line passes through

a thick wood. Now, I will put on all the speed I can while we are running through the tunnel, but the other

fellows will slow down a bit, naturally, for fear of an accident. When we are through, I will shut off steam

and put on brakes as hard as I can, and the moment it's safe to do so you must jump and hide in the wood,

before they get through the tunnel and see you. Then I will go full speed ahead again, and they can chase me

if they like, for as long as they like, and as far as they like. Now mind and be ready to jump when I tell you!'

They piled on more coals, and the train shot into the tunnel, and the engine rushed and roared and rattled, till

at last they shot out at the other end into fresh air and the peaceful moonlight, and saw the wood lying dark

and helpful upon either side of the line. The driver shut off steam and put on brakes, the Toad got down on

the step, and as the train slowed down to almost a walking pace he heard the driver call out, `Now, jump!'

Toad jumped, rolled down a short embankment, picked himself up unhurt, scrambled into the wood and hid.

Peeping out, he saw his train get up speed again and disappear at a great pace. Then out of the tunnel burst

the pursuing engine, roaring and whistling, her motley crew waving their various weapons and shouting,

`Stop! stop! stop!' When they were past, the Toad had a hearty laugh for the first time since he was thrown

But he soon stopped laughing when he came to consider that it was now very late and dark and cold, and he

was in an unknown wood, with no money and no chance of supper, and still far from friends and home; and

the dead silence of everything, after the roar and rattle of the train, was something of a shock. He dared not

leave the shelter of the trees, so he struck into the wood, with the idea of leaving the railway as far as possible

After so many weeks within walls, he found the wood strange and unfriendly and inclined, he thought, to

make fun of him. Nightjars, sounding their mechanical rattle, made him think that the wood was full of

searching warders, closing in on him. An owl, swooping noiselessly towards him, brushed his shoulder with

its wing, making him jump with the horrid certainty that it was a hand; then flitted off, mothlike, laughing

its low ho! ho! ho; which Toad thought in very poor taste. Once he met a fox, who stopped, looked him up

and down in a sarcastic sort of way, and said, `Hullo, washerwoman! Half a pair of socks and a pillowcase

short this week! Mind it doesn't occur again!' and swaggered off, sniggering. Toad looked about for a stone to

throw at him, but could not succeed in finding one, which vexed him more than anything. At last, cold,

hungry, and tired out, he sought the shelter of a hollow tree, where with branches and dead leaves he made

THE Water Rat was restless, and he did not exactly know why. To all appearance the summer's pomp was

still at fullest height, and although in the tilled acres green had given way to gold, though rowans were

reddening, and the woods were dashed here and there with a tawny fierceness, yet light and warmth and

colour were still present in undiminished measure, clean of any chilly premonitions of the passing year. But

the constant chorus of the orchards and hedges had shrunk to a casual evensong from a few yet unwearied

performers; the robin was beginning to assert himself once more; and there was a feeling in the air of change

and departure. The cuckoo, of course, had long been silent; but many another feathered friend, for months a

part of the familiar landscape and its small society, was missing too and it seemed that the ranks thinned

steadily day by day. Rat, ever observant of all winged movement, saw that it was taking daily a southing

tendency; and even as he lay in bed at night he thought he could make out, passing in the darkness overhead,

Nature's Grand Hotel has its Season, like the others. As the guests one by one pack, pay, and depart, and the

seats at the tabled'hote shrink pitifully at each succeeding meal; as suites of rooms are closed, carpets taken

up, and waiters sent away; those boarders who are staying on, en pension, until the next year's full

reopening, cannot help being somewhat affected by all these flittings and farewells, this eager discussion of

plans, routes, and fresh quarters, this daily shrinkage in the stream of comradeship. One gets unsettled,

depressed, and inclined to be querulous. Why this craving for change? Why not stay on quietly here, like us,

and be jolly? You don't know this hotel out of the season, and what fun we have among ourselves, we fellows

who remain and see the whole interesting year out. All very true, no doubt the others always reply; we quite

envy you and some other year perhaps but just now we have engagements and there's the bus at the

door our time is up! So they depart, with a smile and a nod, and we miss them, and feel resentful. The Rat

was a selfsufficing sort of animal, rooted to the land, and, whoever went, he stayed; still, he could not help

It was difficult to settle down to anything seriously, with all this flitting going on. Leaving the waterside,

where rushes stood thick and tall in a stream that was becoming sluggish and low, he wandered

countrywards, crossed a field or two of pasturage already looking dusty and parched, and thrust into the

great sea of wheat, yellow, wavy, and murmurous, full of quiet motion and small whisperings. Here he often

loved to wander, through the forest of stiff strong stalks that carried their own golden sky away over his head

a sky that was always dancing, shimmering, softly talking; or swaying strongly to the passing wind and

recovering itself with a toss and a merry laugh. Here, too, he had many small friends, a society complete in

itself, leading full and busy lives, but always with a spare moment to gossip, and exchange news with a

visitor. Today, however, though they were civil enough, the fieldmice and harvestmice seemed

preoccupied. Many were digging and tunnelling busily; others, gathered together in small groups, examined

plans and drawings of small flats, stated to be desirable and compact, and situated conveniently near the

Stores. Some were hauling out dusty trunks and dressbaskets, others were already elbowdeep packing their

belongings; while everywhere piles and bundles of wheat, oats, barley, beechmast and nuts, lay about ready

`Here's old Ratty!' they cried as soon as they saw him. `Come and bear a hand, Rat, and don't stand about

`What sort of games are you up to?' said the Water Rat severely. `You know it isn't time to be thinking of

`O yes, we know that,' explained a fieldmouse rather shamefacedly; `but it's always as well to be in good

time, isn't it? We really must get all the furniture and baggage and stores moved out of this before those

horrid machines begin clicking round the fields; and then, you know, the best flats get picked up so quickly

nowadays, and if you're late you have to put up with anything; and they want such a lot of doing up, too,

before they're fit to move into. Of course, we're early, we know that; but we're only just making a start.'

`O, bother starts,' said the Rat. `It's a splendid day. Come for a row, or a stroll along the hedges, or a picnic in

`Well, I think not today, thank you,' replied the fieldmouse hurriedly. `Perhaps some other day when

The Rat, with a snort of contempt, swung round to go, tripped over a hatbox, and fell, with undignified

`If people would be more careful,' said a fieldmouse rather stiffly, `and look where they're going, people

wouldn't hurt themselves and forget themselves. Mind that holdall, Rat! You'd better sit down

`You won't be "free" as you call it much this side of Christmas, I can see that,' retorted the Rat grumpily, as

He returned somewhat despondently to his river again his faithful, steadygoing old river, which never

In the osiers which fringed the bank he spied a swallow sitting. Presently it was joined by another, and then

by a third; and the birds, fidgeting restlessly on their bough, talked together earnestly and low.

`What, already,' said the Rat, strolling up to them. `What's the hurry? I call it simply ridiculous.'

`O, we're not off yet, if that's what you mean,' replied the first swallow. `We're only making plans and

arranging things. Talking it over, you know what route we're taking this year, and where we'll stop, and so

`Fun?' said the Rat; `now that's just what I don't understand. If you've got to leave this pleasant place, and

your friends who will miss you, and your snug homes that you've just settled into, why, when the hour strikes

I've no doubt you'll go bravely, and face all the trouble and discomfort and change and newness, and make

believe that you're not very unhappy. But to want to talk about it, or even think about it, till you really need

`No, you don't understand, naturally,' said the second swallow. `First, we feel it stirring within us, a sweet

unrest; then back come the recollections one by one, like homing pigeons. They flutter through our dreams at

night, they fly with us in our wheelings and circlings by day. We hunger to inquire of each other, to compare

notes and assure ourselves that it was all really true, as one by one the scents and sounds and names of

`Couldn't you stop on for just this year?' suggested the Water Rat, wistfully. `We'll all do our best to make

you feel at home. You've no idea what good times we have here, while you are far away.'

`I tried "stopping on" one year,' said the third swallow. `I had grown so fond of the place that when the time

came I hung back and let the others go on without me. For a few weeks it was all well enough, but

afterwards, O the weary length of the nights! The shivering, sunless days! The air so clammy and chill, and

not an insect in an acre of it! No, it was no good; my courage broke down, and one cold, stormy night I took

wing, flying well inland on account of the strong easterly gales. It was snowing hard as I beat through the

passes of the great mountains, and I had a stiff fight to win through; but never shall I forget the blissful

feeling of the hot sun again on my back as I sped down to the lakes that lay so blue and placid below me, and

the taste of my first fat insect! The past was like a bad dream; the future was all happy holiday as I moved

southwards week by week, easily, lazily, lingering as long as I dared, but always heeding the call! No, I had

`Ah, yes, the call of the South, of the South!' twittered the other two dreamily. `Its songs its hues, its radiant

air! O, do you remember ' and, forgetting the Rat, they slid into passionate reminiscence, while he

listened fascinated, and his heart burned within him. In himself, too, he knew that it was vibrating at last, that

chord hitherto dormant and unsuspected. The mere chatter of these southernbound birds, their pale and

secondhand reports, had yet power to awaken this wild new sensation and thrill him through and through

with it; what would one moment of the real thing work in him one passionate touch of the real southern

sun, one waft of the authentic odor? With closed eyes he dared to dream a moment in full abandonment, and

when he looked again the river seemed steely and chill, the green fields grey and lightless. Then his loyal

`Why do you ever come back, then, at all?' he demanded of the swallows jealously. `What do you find to

`And do you think,' said the first swallow, `that the other call is not for us too, in its due season? The call of

lush meadowgrass, wet orchards, warm, insecthaunted ponds, of browsing cattle, of haymaking, and all the

`Do you suppose,' asked the second one, that you are the only living thing that craves with a hungry longing

`In due time,' said the third, `we shall be homesick once more for quiet waterlilies swaying on the surface

of an English stream. But today all that seems pale and thin and very far away. Just now our blood dances to

They fell atwittering among themselves once more, and this time their intoxicating babble was of violet

Restlessly the Rat wandered off once more, climbed the slope that rose gently from the north bank of the

river, and lay looking out towards the great ring of Downs that barred his vision further southwards his

simple horizon hitherto, his Mountains of the Moon, his limit behind which lay nothing he had cared to see or

to know. Today, to him gazing South with a newborn need stirring in his heart, the clear sky over their long

low outline seemed to pulsate with promise; today, the unseen was everything, the unknown the only real

fact of life. On this side of the hills was now the real blank, on the other lay the crowded and coloured

panorama that his inner eye was seeing so clearly. What seas lay beyond, green, leaping, and crested! What

sunbathed coasts, along which the white villas glittered against the olive woods! What quiet harbours,

thronged with gallant shipping bound for purple islands of wine and spice, islands set low in languorous

He rose and descended riverwards once more; then changed his mind and sought the side of the dusty lane.

There, lying halfburied in the thick, cool underhedge tangle that bordered it, he could muse on the metalled

road and all the wondrous world that it led to; on all the wayfarers, too, that might have trodden it, and the

fortunes and adventures they had gone to seek or found unseeking out there, beyond beyond!

Footsteps fell on his ear, and the figure of one that walked somewhat wearily came into view; and he saw that

it was a Rat, and a very dusty one. The wayfarer, as he reached him, saluted with a gesture of courtesy that

had something foreign about it hesitated a moment then with a pleasant smile turned from the track

and sat down by his side in the cool herbage. He seemed tired, and the Rat let him rest unquestioned,

understanding something of what was in his thoughts; knowing, too, the value all animals attach at times to

mere silent companionship, when the weary muscles slacken and the mind marks time.

The wayfarer was lean and keenfeatured, and somewhat bowed at the shoulders; his paws were thin and

long, his eyes much wrinkled at the corners, and he wore small gold ear rings in his neatlyset wellshaped

ears. His knitted jersey was of a faded blue, his breeches, patched and stained, were based on a blue

foundation, and his small belongings that he carried were tied up in a blue cotton handkerchief.

When he had rested awhile the stranger sighed, snuffed the air, and looked about him.

`That was clover, that warm whiff on the breeze,' he remarked; `and those are cows we hear cropping the

grass behind us and blowing softly between mouthfuls. There is a sound of distant reapers, and yonder rises a

blue line of cottage smoke against the woodland. The river runs somewhere close by, for I hear the call of a

moorhen, and I see by your build that you're a freshwater mariner. Everything seems asleep, and yet going on

all the time. It is a goodly life that you lead, friend; no doubt the best in the world, if only you are strong

`Yes, it's the life, the only life, to live,' responded the Water Rat dreamily, and without his usual

`I did not say exactly that,' replied the stranger cautiously; `but no doubt it's the best. I've tried it, and I know.

And because I've just tried it six months of it and know it's the best, here am I, footsore and hungry,

tramping away from it, tramping southward, following the old call, back to the old life, the life which is mine

`Is this, then, yet another of them?' mused the Rat. `And where have you just come from?' he asked. He

hardly dared to ask where he was bound for; he seemed to know the answer only too well.

`Nice little farm,' replied the wayfarer, briefly. `Upalong in that direction' he nodded northwards. `Never

mind about it. I had everything I could want everything I had any right to expect of life, and more; and

here I am! Glad to be here all the same, though, glad to be here! So many miles further on the road, so many

His shining eyes held fast to the horizon, and he seemed to be listening for some sound that was wanting

from that inland acreage, vocal as it was with the cheerful music of pasturage and farmyard.

`You are not one of us,' said the Water Rat, `nor yet a farmer; nor even, I should judge, of this country.'

`Right,' replied the stranger. `I'm a seafaring rat, I am, and the port I originally hail from is Constantinople,

though I'm a sort of a foreigner there too, in a manner of speaking. You will have heard of Constantinople,

friend? A fair city, and an ancient and glorious one. And you may have heard, too, of Sigurd, King of

Norway, and how he sailed thither with sixty ships, and how he and his men rode up through streets all

canopied in their honour with purple and gold; and how the Emperor and Empress came down and banqueted

with him on board his ship. When Sigurd returned home, many of his Northmen remained behind and entered

the Emperor's bodyguard, and my ancestor, a Norwegian born, stayed behind too, with the ships that Sigurd

gave the Emperor. Seafarers we have ever been, and no wonder; as for me, the city of my birth is no more my

home than any pleasant port between there and the London River. I know them all, and they know me. Set me

`I suppose you go great voyages,' said the Water Rat with growing interest. `Months and months out of sight

of land, and provisions running short, and allowanced as to water, and your mind communing with the

`By no means,' said the Sea Rat frankly. `Such a life as you describe would not suit me at all. I'm in the

coasting trade, and rarely out of sight of land. It's the jolly times on shore that appeal to me, as much as any

seafaring. O, those southern seaports! The smell of them, the ridinglights at night, the glamour!'

`Well, perhaps you have chosen the better way,' said the Water Rat, but rather doubtfully. `Tell me something

of your coasting, then, if you have a mind to, and what sort of harvest an animal of spirit might hope to bring

home from it to warm his latter days with gallant memories by the fireside; for my life, I confess to you, feels

`My last voyage,' began the Sea Rat, `that landed me eventually in this country, bound with high hopes for

my inland farm, will serve as a good example of any of them, and, indeed, as an epitome of my

highlycoloured life. Family troubles, as usual, began it. The domestic stormcone was hoisted, and I

shipped myself on board a small trading vessel bound from Constantinople, by classic seas whose every wave

throbs with a deathless memory, to the Grecian Islands and the Levant. Those were golden days and balmy

nights! In and out of harbour all the time old friends everywhere sleeping in some cool temple or

ruined cistern during the heat of the day feasting and song after sundown, under great stars set in a velvet

sky! Thence we turned and coasted up the Adriatic, its shores swimming in an atmosphere of amber, rose,

and aquamarine; we lay in wide landlocked harbours, we roamed through ancient and noble cities, until at

last one morning, as the sun rose royally behind us, we rode into Venice down a path of gold. O, Venice is a

fine city, wherein a rat can wander at his ease and take his pleasure! Or, when weary of wandering, can sit at

the edge of the Grand Canal at night, feasting with his friends, when the air is full of music and the sky full of

stars, and the lights flash and shimmer on the polished steel prows of the swaying gondolas, packed so that

you could walk across the canal on them from side to side! And then the food do you like shellfish? Well,

He was silent for a time; and the Water Rat, silent too and enthralled, floated on dreamcanals and heard a

`Southwards we sailed again at last,' continued the Sea Rat, `coasting down the Italian shore, till finally we

made Palermo, and there I quitted for a long, happy spell on shore. I never stick too long to one ship; one gets

narrowminded and prejudiced. Besides, Sicily is one of my happy huntinggrounds. I know everybody

there, and their ways just suit me. I spent many jolly weeks in the island, staying with friends up country.

When I grew restless again I took advantage of a ship that was trading to Sardinia and Corsica; and very glad

`But isn't it very hot and stuffy, down in the hold, I think you call it?' asked the Water Rat.

The seafarer looked at him with the suspicion go a wink. `I'm an old hand,' he remarked with much

`For the crew it is,' replied the seafarer gravely, again with the ghost of a wink.

`From Corsica,' he went on, `I made use of a ship that was taking wine to the mainland. We made Alassio in

the evening, lay to, hauled up our winecasks, and hove them overboard, tied one to the other by a long line.

Then the crew took to the boats and rowed shorewards, singing as they went, and drawing after them the long

bobbing procession of casks, like a mile of porpoises. On the sands they had horses waiting, which dragged

the casks up the steep street of the little town with a fine rush and clatter and scramble. When the last cask

was in, we went and refreshed and rested, and sat late into the night, drinking with our friends, and next

morning I took to the great olivewoods for a spell and a rest. For now I had done with islands for the time,

and ports and shipping were plentiful; so I led a lazy life among the peasants, lying and watching them work,

or stretched high on the hillside with the blue Mediterranean far below me. And so at length, by easy stages,

and partly on foot, partly by sea, to Marseilles, and the meeting of old shipmates, and the visiting of great

oceanbound vessels, and feasting once more. Talk of shellfish! Why, sometimes I dream of the shellfish

`That reminds me,' said the polite Water Rat; `you happened to mention that you were hungry, and I ought to

have spoken earlier. Of course, you will stop and take your midday meal with me? My hole is close by; it is

`Now I call that kind and brotherly of you,' said the Sea Rat. `I was indeed hungry when I sat down, and ever

since I inadvertently happened to mention shellfish, my pangs have been extreme. But couldn't you fetch it

along out here? I am none too fond of going under hatches, unless I'm obliged to; and then, while we eat, I

could tell you more concerning my voyages and the pleasant life I lead at least, it is very pleasant to me,

and by your attention I judge it commends itself to you; whereas if we go indoors it is a hundred to one that I

`That is indeed an excellent suggestion,' said the Water Rat, and hurried off home. There he got out the

luncheonbasket and packed a simple meal, in which, remembering the stranger's origin and preferences, he

took care to include a yard of long French bread, a sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which

lay down and cried, and a longnecked strawcovered flask wherein lay bottled sunshine shed and garnered

on far Southern slopes. Thus laden, he returned with all speed, and blushed for pleasure at the old seaman's

commendations of his taste and judgment, as together they unpacked the basket and laid out the contents on

The Sea Rat, as soon as his hunger was somewhat assuaged, continued the history of his latest voyage,

conducting his simple hearer from port to port of Spain, landing him at Lisbon, Oporto, and Bordeaux,

introducing him to the pleasant harbours of Cornwall and Devon, and so up the Channel to that final

quayside, where, landing after winds long contrary, stormdriven and weatherbeaten, he had caught the first

magical hints and heraldings of another Spring, and, fired by these, had sped on a long tramp inland, hungry

for the experiment of life on some quiet farmstead, very far from the weary beating of any sea.

Spellbound and quivering with excitement, the Water Rat followed the Adventurer league by league, over

stormy bays, through crowded roadsteads, across harbour bars on a racing tide, up winding rivers that hid

their busy little towns round a sudden turn; and left him with a regretful sigh planted at his dull inland farm,

By this time their meal was over, and the Seafarer, refreshed and strengthened, his voice more vibrant, his

eye lit with a brightness that seemed caught from some faraway seabeacon, filled his glass with the red and

glowing vintage of the South, and, leaning towards the Water Rat, compelled his gaze and held him, body

and soul, while he talked. Those eyes were of the changing foamstreaked greygreen of leaping Northern

seas; in the glass shone a hot ruby that seemed the very heart of the South, beating for him who had courage

to respond to its pulsation. The twin lights, the shifting grey and the steadfast red, mastered the Water Rat and

held him bound, fascinated, powerless. The quiet world outside their rays receded far away and ceased to be.

And the talk, the wonderful talk flowed on or was it speech entirely, or did it pass at times into song

chanty of the sailors weighing the dripping anchor, sonorous hum of the shrouds in a tearing NorthEaster,

ballad of the fisherman hauling his nets at sundown against an apricot sky, chords of guitar and mandoline

from gondola or caique? Did it change into the cry of the wind, plaintive at first, angrily shrill as it freshened,

rising to a tearing whistle, sinking to a musical trickle of air from the leech of the bellying sail? All these

sounds the spellbound listener seemed to hear, and with them the hungry complaint of the gulls and the

seamews, the soft thunder of the breaking wave, the cry of the protesting shingle. Back into speech again it

passed, and with beating heart he was following the adventures of a dozen seaports, the fights, the escapes,

the rallies, the comradeships, the gallant undertakings; or he searched islands for treasure, fished in still

lagoons and dozed daylong on warm white sand. Of deepsea fishings he heard tell, and mighty silver

gatherings of the milelong net; of sudden perils, noise of breakers on a moonless night, or the tall bows of

the great liner taking shape overhead through the fog; of the merry homecoming, the headland rounded, the

harbour lights opened out; the groups seen dimly on the quay, the cheery hail, the splash of the hawser; the

trudge up the steep little street towards the comforting glow of redcurtained windows.

Lastly, in his waking dream it seemed to him that the Adventurer had risen to his feet, but was still speaking,

`And now,' he was softly saying, `I take to the road again, holding on southwestwards for many a long and

dusty day; till at last I reach the little grey sea town I know so well, that clings along one steep side of the

harbour. There through dark doorways you look down flights of stone steps, overhung by great pink tufts of

valerian and ending in a patch of sparkling blue water. The little boats that lie tethered to the rings and

stanchions of the old seawall are gaily painted as those I clambered in and out of in my own childhood; the

salmon leap on the flood tide, schools of mackerel flash and play past quaysides and foreshores, and by the

windows the great vessels glide, night and day, up to their moorings or forth to the open sea. There, sooner or

later, the ships of all seafaring nations arrive; and there, at its destined hour, the ship of my choice will let go

its anchor. I shall take my time, I shall tarry and bide, till at last the right one lies waiting for me, warped out

into midstream, loaded low, her bowsprit pointing down harbour. I shall slip on board, by boat or along

hawser; and then one morning I shall wake to the song and tramp of the sailors, the clink of the capstan, and

the rattle of the anchorchain coming merrily in. We shall break out the jib and the foresail, the white houses

on the harbour side will glide slowly past us as she gathers steeringway, and the voyage will have begun! As

she forges towards the headland she will clothe herself with canvas; and then, once outside, the sounding slap

`And you, you will come too, young brother; for the days pass, and never return, and the South still waits for

you. Take the Adventure, heed the call, now ere the irrevocable moment passes!' 'Tis but a banging of the

door behind you, a blithesome step forward, and you are out of the old life and into the new! Then some day,

some day long hence, jog home here if you will, when the cup has been drained and the play has been played,

and sit down by your quiet river with a store of goodly memories for company. You can easily overtake me

on the road, for you are young, and I am ageing and go softly. I will linger, and look back; and at last I will

surely see you coming, eager and lighthearted, with all the South in your face!'

The voice died away and ceased as an insect's tiny trumpet dwindles swiftly into silence; and the Water Rat,

paralysed and staring, saw at last but a distant speck on the white surface of the road.

Mechanically he rose and proceeded to repack the luncheonbasket, carefully and without haste.

Mechanically he returned home, gathered together a few small necessaries and special treasures he was fond

of, and put them in a satchel; acting with slow deliberation, moving about the room like a sleepwalker;

listening ever with parted lips. He swung the satchel over his shoulder, carefully selected a stout stick for his

wayfaring, and with no haste, but with no hesitation at all, he stepped across the threshold just as the Mole

`Why, where are you off to, Ratty?' asked the Mole in great surprise, grasping him by the arm.

`Going South, with the rest of them,' murmured the Rat in a dreamy monotone, never looking at him.

`Seawards first and then on shipboard, and so to the shores that are calling me!'

He pressed resolutely forward, still without haste, but with dogged fixity of purpose; but the Mole, now

thoroughly alarmed, placed himself in front of him, and looking into his eyes saw that they were glazed and

set and turned a streaked and shifting grey not his friend's eyes, but the eyes of some other animal!

Grappling with him strongly he dragged him inside, threw him down, and held him.

The Rat struggled desperately for a few moments, and then his strength seemed suddenly to leave him, and he

lay still and exhausted, with closed eyes, trembling. Presently the Mole assisted him to rise and placed him in

a chair, where he sat collapsed and shrunken into himself, his body shaken by a violent shivering, passing in

time into an hysterical fit of dry sobbing. Mole made the door fast, threw the satchel into a drawer and locked

it, and sat down quietly on the table by his friend, waiting for the strange seizure to pass. Gradually the Rat

sank into a troubled doze, broken by starts and confused murmurings of things strange and wild and foreign

Very anxious in mind, the Mole left him for a time and busied himself with household matters; and it was

getting dark when he returned to the parlour and found the Rat where he had left him, wide awake indeed, but

listless, silent, and dejected. He took one hasty glance at his eyes; found them, to his great gratification, clear

and dark and brown again as before; and then sat down and tried to cheer him up and help him to relate what

Poor Ratty did his best, by degrees, to explain things; but how could he put into cold words what had mostly

been suggestion? How recall, for another's benefit, the haunting sea voices that had sung to him, how

reproduce at secondhand the magic of the Seafarer's hundred reminiscences? Even to himself, now the spell

was broken and the glamour gone, he found it difficult to account for what had seemed, some hours ago, the

inevitable and only thing. It is not surprising, then, that he failed to convey to the Mole any clear idea of what

To the Mole this much was plain: the fit, or attack, had passed away, and had left him sane again, though

shaken and cast down by the reaction. But he seemed to have lost all interest for the time in the things that

went to make up his daily life, as well as in all pleasant forecastings of the altered days and doings that the

Casually, then, and with seeming indifference, the Mole turned his talk to the harvest that was being gathered

in, the towering wagons and their straining teams, the growing ricks, and the large moon rising over bare

acres dotted with sheaves. He talked of the reddening apples around, of the browning nuts, of jams and

preserves and the distilling of cordials; till by easy stages such as these he reached midwinter, its hearty joys

By degrees the Rat began to sit up and to join in. His dull eye brightened, and he lost some of his listening

Presently the tactful Mole slipped away and returned with a pencil and a few halfsheets of paper, which he

`It's quite a long time since you did any poetry,' he remarked. `You might have a try at it this evening, instead

of well, brooding over things so much. I've an idea that you'll feel a lot better when you've got something

The Rat pushed the paper away from him wearily, but the discreet Mole took occasion to leave the room, and

when he peeped in again some time later, the Rat was absorbed and deaf to the world; alternately scribbling

and sucking the top of his pencil. It is true that he sucked a good deal more than he scribbled; but it was joy

THE front door of the hollow tree faced eastwards, so Toad was called at an early hour; partly by the bright

sunlight streaming in on him, partly by the exceeding coldness of his toes, which made him dream that he

was at home in bed in his own handsome room with the Tudor window, on a cold winter's night, and his

bedclothes had got up, grumbling and protesting they couldn't stand the cold any longer, and had run

downstairs to the kitchen fire to warm themselves; and he had followed, on bare feet, along miles and miles

of icy stonepaved passages, arguing and beseeching them to be reasonable. He would probably have been

aroused much earlier, had he not slept for some weeks on straw over stone flags, and almost forgotten the

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes first and his complaining toes next, wondered for a moment where he was,

looking round for familiar stone wall and little barred window; then, with a leap of the heart, remembered

everything his escape, his flight, his pursuit; remembered, first and best thing of all, that he was free!

Free! The word and the thought alone were worth fifty blankets. He was warm from end to end as he thought

of the jolly world outside, waiting eagerly for him to make his triumphal entrance, ready to serve him and

play up to him, anxious to help him and to keep him company, as it always had been in days of old before

misfortune fell upon him. He shook himself and combed the dry leaves out of his hair with his fingers; and,

his toilet complete, marched forth into the comfortable morning sun, cold but confident, hungry but hopeful,

all nervous terrors of yesterday dispelled by rest and sleep and frank and heartening sunshine.

He had the world all to himself, that early summer morning. The dewy woodland, as he threaded it, was

solitary and still: the green fields that succeeded the trees were his own to do as he liked with; the road itself,

when he reached it, in that loneliness that was everywhere, seemed, like a stray dog, to be looking anxiously

for company. Toad, however, was looking for something that could talk, and tell him clearly which way he

ought to go. It is all very well, when you have a light heart, and a clear conscience, and money in your

pocket, and nobody scouring the country for you to drag you off to prison again, to follow where the road

beckons and points, not caring whither. The practical Toad cared very much indeed, and he could have

kicked the road for its helpless silence when every minute was of importance to him.

The reserved rustic road was presently joined by a shy little brother in the shape of a canal, which took its

hand and ambled along by its side in perfect confidence, but with the same tonguetied, uncommunicative

attitude towards strangers. `Bother them!' said Toad to himself. `But, anyhow, one thing's clear. They must

both be coming from somewhere, and going to somewhere. You can't get over that. Toad, my boy!' So he

Round a bend in the canal came plodding a solitary horse, stooping forward as if in anxious thought. From

rope traces attached to his collar stretched a long line, taut, but dipping with his stride, the further part of it

dripping pearly drops. Toad let the horse pass, and stood waiting for what the fates were sending him.

With a pleasant swirl of quiet water at its blunt bow the barge slid up alongside of him, its gaily painted

gunwale level with the towingpath, its sole occupant a big stout woman wearing a linen sunbonnet, one

`I dare say it is, ma'am!' responded Toad politely, as he walked along the towpath abreast of her. `I dare it is

a nice morning to them that's not in sore trouble, like what I am. Here's my married daughter, she sends off to

me posthaste to come to her at once; so off I comes, not knowing what may be happening or going to

happen, but fearing the worst, as you will understand, ma'am, if you're a mother, too. And I've left my

business to look after itself I'm in the washing and laundering line, you must know, ma'am and I've left

my young children to look after themselves, and a more mischievous and troublesome set of young imps

doesn't exist, ma'am; and I've lost all my money, and lost my way, and as for what may be happening to my

`She lives near to the river, ma'am,' replied Toad. `Close to a fine house called Toad Hall, that's somewheres

`Toad Hall? Why, I'm going that way myself,' replied the bargewoman. `This canal joins the river some

miles further on, a little above Toad Hall; and then it's an easy walk. You come along in the barge with me,

She steered the barge close to the bank, and Toad, with many humble and grateful acknowledgments, stepped

lightly on board and sat down with great satisfaction. `Toad's luck again!' thought he. `I always come out on

`So you're in the washing business, ma'am?' said the bargewoman politely, as they glided along. `And a very

good business you've got too, I dare say, if I'm not making too free in saying so.'

`Finest business in the whole country,' said Toad airily. `All the gentry come to me wouldn't go to any one

else if they were paid, they know me so well. You see, I understand my work thoroughly, and attend to it all

myself. Washing, ironing, clearstarching, making up gents' fine shirts for evening wear everything's

`But surely you don't do all that work yourself, ma'am?' asked the bargewoman respectfully.

`O, I have girls,' said Toad lightly: `twenty girls or thereabouts, always at work. But you know what girls are,

`So do I, too,' said the bargewoman with great heartiness. `But I dare say you set yours to rights, the idle

`I love it,' said Toad. `I simply dote on it. Never so happy as when I've got both arms in the washtub. But,

then, it comes so easy to me! No trouble at all! A real pleasure, I assure you, ma'am!'

`What a bit of luck, meeting you!' observed the bargewoman, thoughtfully. `A regular piece of good fortune

`Well, look at me, now,' replied the bargewoman. `I like washing, too, just the same as you do; and for that

matter, whether I like it or not I have got to do all my own, naturally, moving about as I do. Now my

husband, he's such a fellow for shirking his work and leaving the barge to me, that never a moment do I get

for seeing to my own affairs. By rights he ought to be here now, either steering or attending to the horse,

though luckily the horse has sense enough to attend to himself. Instead of which, he's gone off with the dog,

to see if they can't pick up a rabbit for dinner somewhere. Says he'll catch me up at the next lock. Well, that's

as may be I don't trust him, once he gets off with that dog, who's worse than he is. But meantime, how am

`O, never mind about the washing,' said Toad, not liking the subject. `Try and fix your mind on that rabbit. A

`I can't fix my mind on anything but my washing,' said the bargewoman, `and I wonder you can be talking

of rabbits, with such a joyful prospect before you. There's a heap of things of mine that you'll find in a corner

of the cabin. If you'll just take one or two of the most necessary sort I won't venture to describe them to a

lady like you, but you'll recognise them at a glance and put them through the washtub as we go along,

why, it'll be a pleasure to you, as you rightly say, and a real help to me. You'll find a tub handy, and soap, and

a kettle on the stove, and a bucket to haul up water from the canal with. Then I shall know you're enjoying

yourself, instead of sitting here idle, looking at the scenery and yawning your head off.'

`Here, you let me steer!' said Toad, now thoroughly frightened, `and then you can get on with your washing

your own way. I might spoil your things, or not do 'em as you like. I'm more used to gentlemen's things

`Let you steer?' replied the bargewoman, laughing. `It takes some practice to steer a barge properly. Besides,

it's dull work, and I want you to be happy. No, you shall do the washing you are so fond of, and I'll stick to

the steering that I understand. Don't try and deprive me of the pleasure of giving you a treat!'

Toad was fairly cornered. He looked for escape this way and that, saw that he was too far from the bank for a

flying leap, and sullenly resigned himself to his fate. `If it comes to that,' he thought in desperation, `I

He fetched tub, soap, and other necessaries from the cabin, selected a few garments at random, tried to

recollect what he had seen in casual glances through laundry windows, and set to.

A long halfhour passed, and every minute of it saw Toad getting crosser and crosser. Nothing that he could

do to the things seemed to please them or do them good. He tried coaxing, he tried slapping, he tried

punching; they smiled back at him out of the tub unconverted, happy in their original sin. Once or twice he

looked nervously over his shoulder at the bargewoman, but she appeared to be gazing out in front of her,

absorbed in her steering. His back ached badly, and he noticed with dismay that his paws were beginning to

get all crinkly. Now Toad was very proud of his paws. He muttered under his breath words that should never

pass the lips of either washerwomen or Toads; and lost the soap, for the fiftieth time.

A burst of laughter made him straighten himself and look round. The bargewoman was leaning back and

`I've been watching you all the time,' she gasped. `I thought you must be a humbug all along, from the

conceited way you talked. Pretty washerwoman you are! Never washed so much as a dishclout in your life,

Toad's temper which had been simmering viciously for some time, now fairly boiled over, and he lost all

`You common, low, fat bargewoman!' he shouted; `don't you dare to talk to your betters like that!

Washerwoman indeed! I would have you to know that I am a Toad, a very wellknown, respected,

distinguished Toad! I may be under a bit of a cloud at present, but I will not be laughed at by a bargewoman!'

The woman moved nearer to him and peered under his bonnet keenly and closely. `Why, so you are!' she

cried. `Well, I never! A horrid, nasty, crawly Toad! And in my nice clean barge, too! Now that is a thing that

She relinquished the tiller for a moment. One big mottled arm shot out and caught Toad by a foreleg, while

the other gripped him fast by a hindleg. Then the world turned suddenly upside down, the barge seemed to

flit lightly across the sky, the wind whistled in his ears, and Toad found himself flying through the air,

The water, when he eventually reached it with a loud splash, proved quite cold enough for his taste, though

its chill was not sufficient to quell his proud spirit, or slake the heat of his furious temper. He rose to the

surface spluttering, and when he had wiped the duckweed out of his eyes the first thing he saw was the fat

bargewoman looking back at him over the stern of the retreating barge and laughing; and he vowed, as he

He struck out for the shore, but the cotton gown greatly impeded his efforts, and when at length he touched

land he found it hard to climb up the steep bank unassisted. He had to take a minute or two's rest to recover

his breath; then, gathering his wet skirts well over his arms, he started to run after the barge as fast as his legs

The bargewoman was still laughing when he drew up level with her. `Put yourself through your mangle,

washerwoman,' she called out, `and iron your face and crimp it, and you'll pass for quite a decentlooking

Toad never paused to reply. Solid revenge was what he wanted, not cheap, windy, verbal triumphs, though he

had a thing or two in his mind that he would have liked to say. He saw what he wanted ahead of him.

Running swiftly on he overtook the horse, unfastened the towrope and cast off, jumped lightly on the horse's

back, and urged it to a gallop by kicking it vigorously in the sides. He steered for the open country,

abandoning the towpath, and swinging his steed down a rutty lane. Once he looked back, and saw that the

barge had run aground on the other side of the canal, and the bargewoman was gesticulating wildly and

shouting, `Stop, stop, stop!' `I've heard that song before,' said Toad, laughing, as he continued to spur his

The bargehorse was not capable of any very sustained effort, and its gallop soon subsided into a trot, and its

trot into an easy walk; but Toad was quite contented with this, knowing that he, at any rate, was moving, and

the barge was not. He had quite recovered his temper, now that he had done something he thought really

clever; and he was satisfied to jog along quietly in the sun, steering his horse along byways and

bridlepaths, and trying to forget how very long it was since he had had a square meal, till the canal had been

He had travelled some miles, his horse and he, and he was feeling drowsy in the hot sunshine, when the horse

stopped, lowered his head, and began to nibble the grass; and Toad, waking up, just saved himself from

falling off by an effort. He looked about him and found he was on a wide common, dotted with patches of

gorse and bramble as far as he could see. Near him stood a dingy gipsy caravan, and beside it a man was

sitting on a bucket turned upside down, very busy smoking and staring into the wide world. A fire of sticks

was burning near by, and over the fire hung an iron pot, and out of that pot came forth bubblings and

gurglings, and a vague suggestive steaminess. Also smells warm, rich, and varied smells that twined

and twisted and wreathed themselves at last into one complete, voluptuous, perfect smell that seemed like the

very soul of Nature taking form and appearing to her children, a true Goddess, a mother of solace and

comfort. Toad now knew well that he had not been really hungry before. What he had felt earlier in the day

had been a mere trifling qualm. This was the real thing at last, and no mistake; and it would have to be dealt

with speedily, too, or there would be trouble for somebody or something. He looked the gipsy over carefully,

wondering vaguely whether it would be easier to fight him or cajole him. So there he sat, and sniffed and

sniffed, and looked at the gipsy; and the gipsy sat and smoked, and looked at him.

Presently the gipsy took his pipe out of his mouth and remarked in a careless way, `Want to sell that there

Toad was completely taken aback. He did not know that gipsies were very fond of horsedealing, and never

missed an opportunity, and he had not reflected that caravans were always on the move and took a deal of

drawing. It had not occurred to him to turn the horse into cash, but the gipsy's suggestion seemed to smooth

the way towards the two things he wanted so badly ready money, and a solid breakfast.

`What?' he said, `me sell this beautiful young horse of mine? O, no; it's out of the question. Who's going to

take the washing home to my customers every week? Besides, I'm too fond of him, and he simply dotes on

`You don't seem to see,' continued Toad, `that this fine horse of mine is a cut above you altogether. He's a

blood horse, he is, partly; not the part you see, of course another part. And he's been a Prize Hackney, too,

in his time that was the time before you knew him, but you can still tell it on him at a glance, if you

understand anything about horses. No, it's not to be thought of for a moment. All the same, how much might

The gipsy looked the horse over, and then he looked Toad over with equal care, and looked at the horse

again. `Shillin' a leg,' he said briefly, and turned away, continuing to smoke and try to stare the wide world

`A shilling a leg?' cried Toad. `If you please, I must take a little time to work that out, and see just what it

He climbed down off his horse, and left it to graze, and sat down by the gipsy, and did sums on his fingers,

and at last he said, `A shilling a leg? Why, that comes to exactly four shillings, and no more. O, no; I could

`Well,' said the gipsy, `I'll tell you what I will do. I'll make it five shillings, and that's threeandsixpence

Then Toad sat and pondered long and deeply. For he was hungry and quite penniless, and still some way

he knew not how far from home, and enemies might still be looking for him. To one in such a situation,

five shillings may very well appear a large sum of money. On the other hand, it did not seem very much to

get for a horse. But then, again, the horse hadn't cost him anything; so whatever he got was all clear profit. At

last he said firmly, `Look here, gipsy! I tell you what we will do; and this is my last word. You shall hand me

over six shillings and sixpence, cash down; and further, in addition thereto, you shall give me as much

breakfast as I can possibly eat, at one sitting of course, out of that iron pot of yours that keeps sending forth

such delicious and exciting smells. In return, I will make over to you my spirited young horse, with all the

beautiful harness and trappings that are on him, freely thrown in. If that's not good enough for you, say so,

and I'll be getting on. I know a man near here who's wanted this horse of mine for years.'

The gipsy grumbled frightfully, and declared if he did a few more deals of that sort he'd be ruined. But in the

end he lugged a dirty canvas bag out of the depths of his trouser pocket, and counted out six shillings and

sixpence into Toad's paw. Then he disappeared into the caravan for an instant, and returned with a large iron

plate and a knife, fork, and spoon. He tilted up the pot, and a glorious stream of hot rich stew gurgled into the

plate. It was, indeed, the most beautiful stew in the world, being made of partridges, and pheasants, and

chickens, and hares, and rabbits, and peahens, and guineafowls, and one or two other things. Toad took the

plate on his lap, almost crying, and stuffed, and stuffed, and stuffed, and kept asking for more, and the gipsy

never grudged it him. He thought that he had never eaten so good a breakfast in all his life.

When Toad had taken as much stew on board as he thought he could possibly hold, he got up and said

goodbye to the gipsy, and took an affectionate farewell of the horse; and the gipsy, who knew the riverside

well, gave him directions which way to go, and he set forth on his travels again in the best possible spirits. He

was, indeed, a very different Toad from the animal of an hour ago. The sun was shining brightly, his wet

clothes were quite dry again, he had money in his pocket once more, he was nearing home and friends and

safety, and, most and best of all, he had had a substantial meal, hot and nourishing, and felt big, and strong,

As he tramped along gaily, he thought of his adventures and escapes, and how when things seemed at their

worst he had always managed to find a way out; and his pride and conceit began to swell within him. `Ho,

ho!' he said to himself as he marched along with his chin in the air, `what a clever Toad I am! There is surely

no animal equal to me for cleverness in the whole world! My enemies shut me up in prison, encircled by

sentries, watched night and day by warders; I walk out through them all, by sheer ability coupled with

courage. They pursue me with engines, and policemen, and revolvers; I snap my fingers at them, and vanish,

laughing, into space. I am, unfortunately, thrown into a canal by a woman fat of body and very evilminded.

What of it? I swim ashore, I seize her horse, I ride off in triumph, and I sell the horse for a whole pocketful of

money and an excellent breakfast! Ho, ho! I am The Toad, the handsome, the popular, the successful Toad!'

He got so puffed up with conceit that he made up a song as he walked in praise of himself, and sang it at the

top of his voice, though there was no one to hear it but him. It was perhaps the most conceited song that any

`The world has held great Heroes, As historybooks have showed; But never a name to go down to fame

Compared with that of Toad! `The clever men at Oxford Know all that there is to be knowed. But they none

of them know one half as much As intelligent Mr. Toad! `The animals sat in the Ark and cried, Their tears in

torrents flowed. Who was it said, "There's land ahead?" Encouraging Mr. Toad! `The army all saluted As

they marched along the road. Was it the King? Or Kitchener? No. It was Mr. Toad. `The Queen and her

Ladiesinwaiting Sat at the window and sewed. She cried, "Look! who's that handsome man?" They

answered, "Mr. Toad."' There was a great deal more of the same sort, but too dreadfully conceited to be

He sang as he walked, and he walked as he sang, and got more inflated every minute. But his pride was

After some miles of country lanes he reached the high road, and as he turned into it and glanced along its

white length, he saw approaching him a speck that turned into a dot and then into a blob, and then into

something very familiar; and a double note of warning, only too well known, fell on his delighted ear.

`This is something like!' said the excited Toad. `This is real life again, this is once more the great world from

which I have been missed so long! I will hail them, my brothers of the wheel, and pitch them a yarn, of the

sort that has been so successful hitherto; and they will give me a lift, of course, and then I will talk to them

some more; and, perhaps, with luck, it may even end in my driving up to Toad Hall in a motorcar! That will

He stepped confidently out into the road to hail the motorcar, which came along at an easy pace, slowing

down as it neared the lane; when suddenly he became very pale, his heart turned to water, his knees shook

and yielded under him, and he doubled up and collapsed with a sickening pain in his interior. And well he

might, the unhappy animal; for the approaching car was the very one he had stolen out of the yard of the Red

Lion Hotel on that fatal day when all his troubles began! And the people in it were the very same people he

He sank down in a shabby, miserable heap in the road, murmuring to himself in his despair, `It's all up! It's all

over now! Chains and policemen again! Prison again! Dry bread and water again! O, what a fool I have been!

What did I want to go strutting about the country for, singing conceited songs, and hailing people in broad

day on the high road, instead of hiding till nightfall and slipping home quietly by back ways! O hapless Toad!

The terrible motorcar drew slowly nearer and nearer, till at last he heard it stop just short of him. Two

gentlemen got out and walked round the trembling heap of crumpled misery lying in the road, and one of

them said, `O dear! this is very sad! Here is a poor old thing a washerwoman apparently who has

fainted in the road! Perhaps she is overcome by the heat, poor creature; or possibly she has not had any food

today. Let us lift her into the car and take her to the nearest village, where doubtless she has friends.'

They tenderly lifted Toad into the motorcar and propped him up with soft cushions, and proceeded on their

When Toad heard them talk in so kind and sympathetic a way, and knew that he was not recognised, his

courage began to revive, and he cautiously opened first one eye and then the other.

`Look!' said one of the gentlemen, `she is better already. The fresh air is doing her good. How do you feel

`Thank you kindly, Sir,' said Toad in a feeble voice, `I'm feeling a great deal better!' `That's right,' said the

`I won't,' said Toad. `I was only thinking, if I might sit on the front seat there, beside the driver, where I could

`What a very sensible woman!' said the gentleman. `Of course you shall.' So they carefully helped Toad into

Toad was almost himself again by now. He sat up, looked about him, and tried to beat down the tremors, the

yearnings, the old cravings that rose up and beset him and took possession of him entirely.

`It is fate!' he said to himself. `Why strive? why struggle?' and he turned to the driver at his side.

`Please, Sir,' he said, `I wish you would kindly let me try and drive the car for a little. I've been watching you

carefully, and it looks so easy and so interesting, and I should like to be able to tell my friends that once I had

The driver laughed at the proposal, so heartily that the gentleman inquired what the mattter{sic} was. When

he heard, he said, to Toad's delight, `Bravo, ma'am! I like your spirit. Let her have a try, and look after her.

Toad eagerly scrambled into the seat vacated by the driver, took the steeringwheel in his hands, listened

with affected humility to the instructions given him, and set the car in motion, but very slowly and carefully

The gentlemen behind clapped their hands and applauded, and Toad heard them saying, `How well she does

He heard the gentlemen call out warningly, `Be careful, washerwoman!' And this annoyed him, and he began

The driver tried to interfere, but he pinned him down in his seat with one elbow, and put on full speed. The

rush of air in his face, the hum of the engines, and the light jump of the car beneath him intoxicated his weak

brain. `Washerwoman, indeed!' he shouted recklessly. `Ho! ho! I am the Toad, the motorcar snatcher, the

prisonbreaker, the Toad who always escapes! Sit still, and you shall know what driving really is, for you are

With a cry of horror the whole party rose and flung themselves on him. `Seize him!' they cried, `seize the

Toad, the wicked animal who stole our motorcar! Bind him, chain him, drag him to the nearest

Alas! they should have thought, they ought to have been more prudent, they should have remembered to stop

the motorcar somehow before playing any pranks of that sort. With a halfturn of the wheel the Toad sent

the car crashing through the low hedge that ran along the roadside. One mighty bound, a violent shock, and

Toad found himself flying through the air with the strong upward rush and delicate curve of a swallow. He

liked the motion, and was just beginning to wonder whether it would go on until he developed wings and

turned into a Toadbird, when he landed on his back with a thump, in the soft rich grass of a meadow. Sitting

up, he could just see the motorcar in the pond, nearly submerged; the gentlemen and the driver, encumbered

He picked himself up rapidly, and set off running across country as hard as he could, scrambling through

hedges, jumping ditches, pounding across fields, till he was breathless and weary, and had to settle down into

an easy walk. When he had recovered his breath somewhat, and was able to think calmly, he began to giggle,

and from giggling he took to laughing, and he laughed till he had to sit down under a hedge. `Ho, ho!' he

cried, in ecstasies of selfadmiration, `Toad again! Toad, as usual, comes out on the top! Who was it got

them to give him a lift? Who managed to get on the front seat for the sake of fresh air? Who persuaded them

into letting him see if he could drive? Who landed them all in a horsepond? Who escaped, flying gaily and

unscathed through the air, leaving the narrowminded, grudging, timid excursionists in the mud where they

`The motorcar went Pooppooppoop, As it raced along the road. Who was it steered it into a pond?

A slight noise at a distance behind him made him turn his head and look. O horror! O misery! O despair!

About two fields off, a chauffeur in his leather gaiters and two large rural policemen were visible, running

Poor Toad sprang to his feet and pelted away again, his heart in his mouth. O, my!' he gasped, as he panted

along, `what an ass I am! What a conceited and heedless ass! Swaggering again! Shouting and singing songs

He glanced back, and saw to his dismay that they were gaining on him. On he ran desperately, but kept

looking back, and saw that they still gained steadily. He did his best, but he was a fat animal, and his legs

were short, and still they gained. He could hear them close behind him now. Ceasing to heed where he was

going, he struggled on blindly and wildly, looking back over his shoulder at the now triumphant enemy, when

suddenly the earth failed under his feet, he grasped at the air, and, splash! he found himself head over ears in

deep water, rapid water, water that bore him along with a force he could not contend with; and he knew that

He rose to the surface and tried to grasp the reeds and the rushes that grew along the water's edge close under

the bank, but the stream was so strong that it tore them out of his hands. `O my!' gasped poor Toad, `if ever I

steal a motorcar again! If ever I sing another conceited song' then down he went, and came up breathless

and spluttering. Presently he saw that he was approaching a big dark hole in the bank, just above his head,

and as the stream bore him past he reached up with a paw and caught hold of the edge and held on. Then

slowly and with difficulty he drew himself up out of the water, till at last he was able to rest his elbows on the

edge of the hole. There he remained for some minutes, puffing and panting, for he was quite exhausted.

As he sighed and blew and stared before him into the dark hole, some bright small thing shone and twinkled

in its depths, moving towards him. As it approached, a face grew up gradually around it, and it was a familiar

THE Rat put out a neat little brown paw, gripped Toad firmly by the scruff of the neck, and gave a great hoist

and a pull; and the waterlogged Toad came up slowly but surely over the edge of the hole, till at last he

stood safe and sound in the hall, streaked with mud and weed to be sure, and with the water streaming off

him, but happy and highspirited as of old, now that he found himself once more in the house of a friend, and

dodgings and evasions were over, and he could lay aside a disguise that was unworthy of his position and

`O, Ratty!' he cried. `I've been through such times since I saw you last, you can't think! Such trials, such

sufferings, and all so nobly borne! Then such escapes, such disguises such subterfuges, and all so cleverly

planned and carried out! Been in prison got out of it, of course! Been thrown into a canal swam

ashore! Stole a horse sold him for a large sum of money! Humbugged everybody made 'em all do

exactly what I wanted! Oh, I am a smart Toad, and no mistake! What do you think my last exploit was? Just

`Toad,' said the Water Rat, gravely and firmly, `you go off upstairs at once, and take off that old cotton rag

that looks as if it might formerly have belonged to some washerwoman, and clean yourself thoroughly, and

put on some of my clothes, and try and come down looking like a gentleman if you can; for a more shabby,

bedraggled, disreputablelooking object than you are I never set eyes on in my whole life! Now, stop

Toad was at first inclined to stop and do some talking back at him. He had had enough of being ordered about

when he was in prison, and here was the thing being begun all over again, apparently; and by a Rat, too!

However, he caught sight of himself in the lookingglass over the hatstand, with the rusty black bonnet

perched rakishly over one eye, and he changed his mind and went very quickly and humbly upstairs to the

Rat's dressingroom. There he had a thorough wash and brushup, changed his clothes, and stood for a long

time before the glass, contemplating himself with pride and pleasure, and thinking what utter idiots all the

people must have been to have ever mistaken him for one moment for a washerwoman.

By the time he came down again luncheon was on the table, and very glad Toad was to see it, for he had been

through some trying experiences and had taken much hard exercise since the excellent breakfast provided for

him by the gipsy. While they ate Toad told the Rat all his adventures, dwelling chiefly on his own cleverness,

and presence of mind in emergencies, and cunning in tight places; and rather making out that he had been

having a gay and highlycoloured experience. But the more he talked and boasted, the more grave and silent

When at last Toad had talked himself to a standstill, there was silence for a while; and then the Rat said,

`Now, Toady, I don't want to give you pain, after all you've been through already; but, seriously, don't you

see what an awful ass you've been making of yourself? On your own admission you have been handcuffed,

imprisoned, starved, chased, terrified out of your life, insulted, jeered at, and ignominiously flung into the

water by a woman, too! Where's the amusement in that? Where does the fun come in? And all because

you must needs go and steal a motorcar. You know that you've never had anything but trouble from

motorcars from the moment you first set eyes on one. But if you will be mixed up with them as you

generally are, five minutes after you've started why steal them? Be a cripple, if you think it's exciting; be a

bankrupt, for a change, if you've set your mind on it: but why choose to be a convict? When are you going to

be sensible, and think of your friends, and try and be a credit to them? Do you suppose it's any pleasure to

me, for instance, to hear animals saying, as I go about, that I'm the chap that keeps company with

Now, it was a very comforting point in Toad's character that he was a thoroughly goodhearted animal and

never minded being jawed by those who were his real friends. And even when most set upon a thing, he was

always able to see the other side of the question. So although, while the Rat was talking so seriously, he kept

saying to himself mutinously, `But it was fun, though! Awful fun!' and making strange suppressed noises

inside him, kickckck, and pooppp, and other sounds resembling stifled snorts, or the opening of

sodawater bottles, yet when the Rat had quite finished, he heaved a deep sigh and said, very nicely and

humbly, `Quite right, Ratty! How sound you always are! Yes, I've been a conceited old ass, I can quite see

that; but now I'm going to be a good Toad, and not do it any more. As for motorcars, I've not been at all so

keen about them since my last ducking in that river of yours. The fact is, while I was hanging on to the edge

of your hole and getting my breath, I had a sudden idea a really brilliant idea connected with

motorboats there, there! don't take on so, old chap, and stamp, and upset things; it was only an idea, and

we won't talk any more about it now. We'll have our coffee, and a smoke, and a quiet chat, and then I'm going

to stroll quietly down to Toad Hall, and get into clothes of my own, and set things going again on the old

lines. I've had enough of adventures. I shall lead a quiet, steady, respectable life, pottering about my property,

and improving it, and doing a little landscape gardening at times. There will always be a bit of dinner for my

friends when they come to see me; and I shall keep a ponychaise to jog about the country in, just as I used to

`Stroll quietly down to Toad Hall?' cried the Rat, greatly excited. `What are you talking about? Do you mean

`Heard what?' said Toad, turning rather pale. `Go on, Ratty! Quick! Don't spare me! What haven't I heard?'

`Do you mean to tell me,' shouted the Rat, thumping with his little fist upon the table, `that you've heard

What, the Wild Wooders?' cried Toad, trembling in every limb. `No, not a word! What have they been

Toad leaned his elbows on the table, and his chin on his paws; and a large tear welled up in each of his eyes,

`Go on, Ratty,' he murmured presently; `tell me all. The worst is over. I am an animal again. I can bear it.'

`When you got into that that trouble of yours,' said the Rat, slowly and impressively; `I mean,

when you disappeared from society for a time, over that misunderstanding about a a machine, you

`Well, it was a good deal talked about down here, naturally,' continued the Rat, `not only along the

riverside, but even in the Wild Wood. Animals took sides, as always happens. The Riverbankers stuck up

for you, and said you had been infamously treated, and there was no justice to be had in the land nowadays.

But the Wild Wood animals said hard things, and served you right, and it was time this sort of thing was

stopped. And they got very cocky, and went about saying you were done for this time! You would never

`That's the sort of little beasts they are,' the Rat went on. `But Mole and Badger, they stuck out, through thick

and thin, that you would come back again soon, somehow. They didn't know exactly how, but somehow!'

`They argued from history,' continued the Rat. `They said that no criminal laws had ever been known to

prevail against cheek and plausibility such as yours, combined with the power of a long purse. So they

arranged to move their things in to Toad Hall, and sleep there, and keep it aired, and have it all ready for you

when you turned up. They didn't guess what was going to happen, of course; still, they had their suspicions of

the Wild Wood animals. Now I come to the most painful and tragic part of my story. One dark night it

was a very dark night, and blowing hard, too, and raining simply cats and dogs a band of weasels, armed

to the teeth, crept silently up the carriagedrive to the front entrance. Simultaneously, a body of desperate

ferrets, advancing through the kitchengarden, possessed themselves of the backyard and offices; while a

company of skirmishing stoats who stuck at nothing occupied the conservatory and the billiardroom, and

`The Mole and the Badger were sitting by the fire in the smokingroom, telling stories and suspecting

nothing, for it wasn't a night for any animals to be out in, when those bloodthirsty villains broke down the

doors and rushed in upon them from every side. They made the best fight they could, but what was the good?

They were unarmed, and taken by surprise, and what can two animals do against hundreds? They took and

beat them severely with sticks, those two poor faithful creatures, and turned them out into the cold and the

Here the unfeeling Toad broke into a snigger, and then pulled himself together and tried to look particularly

`And the Wild Wooders have been living in Toad Hall ever since,' continued the Rat; `and going on simply

anyhow! Lying in bed half the day, and breakfast at all hours, and the place in such a mess (I'm told) it's not

fit to be seen! Eating your grub, and drinking your drink, and making bad jokes about you, and singing vulgar

songs, about well, about prisons and magistrates, and policemen; horrid personal songs, with no humour

in them. And they're telling the tradespeople and everybody that they've come to stay for good.'

`O, have they!' said Toad getting up and seizing a stick. `I'll jolly soon see about that!'

`It's no good, Toad!' called the Rat after him. `You'd better come back and sit down; you'll only get into

But the Toad was off, and there was no holding him. He marched rapidly down the road, his stick over his

shoulder, fuming and muttering to himself in his anger, till he got near his front gate, when suddenly there

`Stuff and nonsense!' said Toad, very angrily. `What do you mean by talking like that to me? Come out of

The ferret said never a word, but he brought his gun up to his shoulder. Toad prudently dropped flat in the

The startled Toad scrambled to his feet and scampered off down the road as hard as he could; and as he ran

he heard the ferret laughing and other horrid thin little laughs taking it up and carrying on the sound.

`What did I tell you?' said the Rat. `It's no good. They've got sentries posted, and they are all armed. You

Still, Toad was not inclined to give in all at once. So he got out the boat, and set off rowing up the river to

Arriving within sight of his old home, he rested on his oars and surveyed the land cautiously. All seemed

very peaceful and deserted and quiet. He could see the whole front of Toad Hall, glowing in the evening

sunshine, the pigeons settling by twos and threes along the straight line of the roof; the garden, a blaze of

flowers; the creek that led up to the boathouse, the little wooden bridge that crossed it; all tranquil,

uninhabited, apparently waiting for his return. He would try the boathouse first, he thought. Very warily he

paddled up to the mouth of the creek, and was just passing under the bridge, when . . . Crash!

A great stone, dropped from above, smashed through the bottom of the boat. It filled and sank, and Toad

found himself struggling in deep water. Looking up, he saw two stoats leaning over the parapet of the bridge

and watching him with great glee. `It will be your head next time, Toady!' they called out to him. The

indignant Toad swam to shore, while the stoats laughed and laughed, supporting each other, and laughed

The Toad retraced his weary way on foot, and related his disappointing experiences to the Water Rat once

`Well, what did I tell you?' said the Rat very crossly. `And, now, look here! See what you've been and done!

Lost me my boat that I was so fond of, that's what you've done! And simply ruined that nice suit of clothes

that I lent you! Really, Toad, of all the trying animals I wonder you manage to keep any friends at all!'

The Toad saw at once how wrongly and foolishly he had acted. He admitted his errors and

wrongheadedness and made a full apology to Rat for losing his boat and spoiling his clothes. And he wound

up by saying, with that frank selfsurrender which always disarmed his friend's criticism and won them back

to his side, `Ratty! I see that I have been a headstrong and a wilful Toad! Henceforth, believe me, I will be

humble and submissive, and will take no action without your kind advice and full approval!'

`If that is really so,' said the goodnatured Rat, already appeased, `then my advice to you is, considering the

lateness of the hour, to sit down and have your supper, which will be on the table in a minute, and be very

patient. For I am convinced that we can do nothing until we have seen the Mole and the Badger, and heard

their latest news, and held conference and taken their advice in this difficult matter.'

`Oh, ah, yes, of course, the Mole and the Badger,' said Toad, lightly. `What's become of them, the dear

`Well may you ask!' said the Rat reproachfully. `While you were riding about the country in expensive

motorcars, and galloping proudly on bloodhorses, and breakfasting on the fat of the land, those two poor

devoted animals have been camping out in the open, in every sort of weather, living very rough by day and

lying very hard by night; watching over your house, patrolling your boundaries, keeping a constant eye on the

stoats and the weasels, scheming and planning and contriving how to get your property back for you. You

don't deserve to have such true and loyal friends, Toad, you don't, really. Some day, when it's too late, you'll

`I'm an ungrateful beast, I know,' sobbed Toad, shedding bitter tears. `Let me go out and find them, out into

the cold, dark night, and share their hardships, and try and prove by Hold on a bit! Surely I heard the

The Rat remembered that poor Toad had been on prison fare for a considerable time, and that large

allowances had therefore to be made. He followed him to the table accordingly, and hospitably encouraged

They had just finished their meal and resumed their armchairs, when there came a heavy knock at the door.

Toad was nervous, but the Rat, nodding mysteriously at him, went straight up to the door and opened it, and

He had all the appearance of one who for some nights had been kept away from home and all its little

comforts and conveniences. His shoes were covered with mud, and he was looking very rough and touzled;

but then he had never been a very smart man, the Badger, at the best of times. He came solemnly up to Toad,

shook him by the paw, and said, `Welcome home, Toad! Alas! what am I saying? Home, indeed! This is a

poor homecoming. Unhappy Toad!' Then he turned his back on him, sat down to the table, drew his chair

Toad was quite alarmed at this very serious and portentous style of greeting; but the Rat whispered to him,

`Never mind; don't take any notice; and don't say anything to him just yet. He's always rather low and

despondent when he's wanting his victuals. In half an hour's time he'll be quite a different animal.'

So they waited in silence, and presently there came another and a lighter knock. The Rat, with a nod to Toad,

went to the door and ushered in the Mole, very shabby and unwashed, with bits of hay and straw sticking in

`Hooray! Here's old Toad!' cried the Mole, his face beaming. `Fancy having you back again!' And he began

to dance round him. `We never dreamt you would turn up so soon! Why, you must have managed to escape,

The Rat, alarmed, pulled him by the elbow; but it was too late. Toad was puffing and swelling already.

`Clever? O, no!' he said. `I'm not really clever, according to my friends. I've only broken out of the strongest

prison in England, that's all! And captured a railway train and escaped on it, that's all! And disguised myself

and gone about the country humbugging every body, that's all! O, no! I'm a stupid ass, I am! I'll tell you one

`Well, well,' said the Mole, moving towards the suppertable; `supposing you talk while I eat. Not a bite

since breakfast! O my! O my!' And he sat down and helped himself liberally to cold beef and pickles.

Toad straddled on the hearthrug, thrust his paw into his trouserpocket and pulled out a handful of silver.

`Look at that!' he cried, displaying it. `That's not so bad, is it, for a few minutes' work? And how do you think

`Toad, do be quiet, please!' said the Rat. `And don't you egg him on, Mole, when you know what he is; but

please tell us as soon as possible what the position is, and what's best to be done, now that Toad is back at

`The position's about as bad as it can be,' replied the Mole grumpily; `and as for what's to be done, why, blest

if I know! The Badger and I have been round and round the place, by night and by day; always the same

thing. Sentries posted everywhere, guns poked out at us, stones thrown at us; always an animal on the

lookout, and when they see us, my! how they do laugh! That's what annoys me most!'

`It's a very difficult situation,' said the Rat, reflecting deeply. `But I think I see now, in the depths of my

`No, he oughtn't!' shouted the Mole, with his mouth full. `Nothing of the sort! You don't understand. What he

`Well, I shan't do it, anyway!' cried Toad, getting excited. `I'm not going to be ordered about by you fellows!

It's my house we're talking about, and I know exactly what to do, and I'll tell you. I'm going to '

By this time they were all three talking at once, at the top of their voices, and the noise was simply deafening,

when a thin, dry voice made itself heard, saying, `Be quiet at once, all of you!' and instantly every one was

It was the Badger, who, having finished his pie, had turned round in his chair and was looking at them

severely. When he saw that he had secured their attention, and that they were evidently waiting for him to

address them, he turned back to the table again and reached out for the cheese. And so great was the respect

commanded by the solid qualities of that admirable animal, that not another word was uttered until he had

quite finished his repast and brushed the crumbs from his knees. The Toad fidgeted a good deal, but the Rat

When the Badger had quite done, he got up from his seat and stood before the fireplace, reflecting deeply. At

`Toad!' he said severely. `You bad, troublesome little animal! Aren't you ashamed of youself? What do you

think your father, my old friend, would have said if he had been here tonight, and had known of all your

Toad, who was on the sofa by this time, with his legs up, rolled over on his face, shaken by sobs of contrition.

`There, there!' went on the Badger, more kindly. `Never mind. Stop crying. We're going to let bygones be

bygones, and try and turn over a new leaf. But what the Mole says is quite true. The stoats are on guard, at

every point, and they make the best sentinels in the world. It's quite useless to think of attacking the place.

`Then it's all over,' sobbed the Toad, crying into the sofa cushions. `I shall go and enlist for a soldier, and

`Come, cheer up, Toady!' said the Badger. `There are more ways of getting back a place than taking it by

storm. I haven't said my last word yet. Now I'm going to tell you a great secret.'

Toad sat up slowly and dried his eyes. Secrets had an immense attraction for him, because he never could

keep one, and he enjoyed the sort of unhallowed thrill he experienced when he went and told another animal,

`There is an underground passage,' said the Badger, impressively, `that leads from the

`O, nonsense! Badger,' said Toad, rather airily. `You've been listening to some of the yarns they spin in the

publichouses about here. I know every inch of Toad Hall, inside and out. Nothing of the sort, I do assure

`My young friend,' said the Badger, with great severity, `your father, who was a worthy animal a lot

worthier than some others I know was a particular friend of mine, and told me a great deal he wouldn't

have dreamt of telling you. He discovered that passage he didn't make it, of course; that was done

hundreds of years before he ever came to live there and he repaired it and cleaned it out, because he

thought it might come in useful some day, in case of trouble or danger; and he showed it to me. "Don't let my

son know about it," he said. "He's a good boy, but very light and volatile in character, and simply cannot hold

his tongue. If he's ever in a real fix, and it would be of use to him, you may tell him about the secret passage;

The other animals looked hard at Toad to see how he would take it. Toad was inclined to be sulky at first; but

`Well, well,' he said; `perhaps I am a bit of a talker. A popular fellow such as I am my friends get round

me we chaff, we sparkle, we tell witty stories and somehow my tongue gets wagging. I have the gift of

conversation. I've been told I ought to have a salon, whatever that may be. Never mind. Go on, Badger.

`I've found out a thing or two lately,' continued the Badger. `I got Otter to disguise himself as a sweep and

call at the backdoor with brushes over his shoulder, asking for a job. There's going to be a big banquet

tomorrow night. It's somebody's birthday the Chief Weasel's, I believe and all the weasels will be

gathered together in the dininghall, eating and drinking and laughing and carrying on, suspecting nothing.

`Exactly,' said the Badger; `that is my point. The weasels will trust entirely to their excellent sentinels. And

that is where the passage comes in. That very useful tunnel leads right up under the butler's pantry, next to the

`Aha! that squeaky board in the butler's pantry!' said Toad. `Now I understand it!'

` and whack 'em, and whack 'em, and whack 'em!' cried the Toad in ecstasy, running round and round the

`Very well, then,' said the Badger, resuming his usual dry manner, `our plan is settled, and there's nothing

more for you to argue and squabble about. So, as it's getting very late, all of you go right off to bed at once.

We will make all the necessary arrangements in the course of the morning tomorrow.'

Toad, of course, went off to bed dutifully with the rest he knew better than to refuse though he was

feeling much too excited to sleep. But he had had a long day, with many events crowded into it; and sheets

and blankets were very friendly and comforting things, after plain straw, and not too much of it, spread on the

stone floor of a draughty cell; and his head had not been many seconds on his pillow before he was snoring

happily. Naturally, he dreamt a good deal; about roads that ran away from him just when he wanted them,

and canals that chased him and caught him, and a barge that sailed into the banquetinghall with his week's

washing, just as he was giving a dinnerparty; and he was alone in the secret passage, pushing onwards, but it

twisted and turned round and shook itself, and sat up on its end; yet somehow, at the last, he found himself

back in Toad Hall, safe and triumphant, with all his friends gathered round about him, earnestly assuring him

He slept till a late hour next morning, and by the time he got down he found that the other animals had

finished their breakfast some time before. The Mole had slipped off somewhere by himself, without telling

any one where he was going to. The Badger sat in the armchair, reading the paper, and not concerning

himself in the slightest about what was going to happen that very evening. The Rat, on the other hand, was

running round the room busily, with his arms full of weapons of every kind, distributing them in four little

heaps on the floor, and saying excitedly under his breath, as he ran, `Here'saswordfortheRat,

here'sapistolfortheBadger!' And so on, in a regular, rhythmical way, while the four little heaps

`That's all very well, Rat,' said the Badger presently, looking at the busy little animal over the edge of his

newspaper; `I'm not blaming you. But just let us once get past the stoats, with those detestable guns of theirs,

and I assure you we shan't want any swords or pistols. We four, with our sticks, once we're inside the

dininghall, why, we shall clear the floor of all the lot of them in five minutes. I'd have done the whole thing

`It's as well to be on the safe side,' said the Rat reflectively, polishing a pistolbarrel on his sleeve and

The Toad, having finished his breakfast, picked up a stout stick and swung it vigorously, belabouring

imaginary animals. `I'll learn 'em to steal my house!' he cried. `I'll learn 'em, I'll learn 'em!'

`Don't say "learn 'em," Toad,' said the Rat, greatly shocked. `It's not good English.'

`What are you always nagging at Toad for?' inquired the Badger, rather peevishly. `What's the matter with his

English? It's the same what I use myself, and if it's good enough for me, it ought to be good enough for you!'

`I'm very sorry,' said the Rat humbly. `Only I think it ought to be "teach 'em," not "learn 'em."'

`But we don't want to teach 'em,' replied the Badger. `We want to learn 'em learn 'em, learn 'em! And

`Oh, very well, have it your own way,' said the Rat. He was getting rather muddled about it himself, and

presently he retired into a corner, where he could be heard muttering, `Learn 'em, teach 'em, teach 'em, learn

Presently the Mole came tumbling into the room, evidently very pleased with himself. `I've been having such

`I should hope so, too,' said the Mole confidently. `I got the idea when I went into the kitchen, to see about

Toad's breakfast being kept hot for him. I found that old washerwomandress that he came home in

yesterday, hanging on a towelhorse before the fire. So I put it on, and the bonnet as well, and the shawl, and

off I went to Toad Hall, as bold as you please. The sentries were on the lookout, of course, with their guns

and their "Who comes there?" and all the rest of their nonsense. "Good morning, gentlemen!" says I, very

`They looked at me very proud and stiff and haughty, and said, "Go away, washerwoman! We don't do any

washing on duty." "Or any other time?" says I. Ho, ho, ho! Wasn't I funny, Toad?'

`Poor, frivolous animal!' said Toad, very loftily. The fact is, he felt exceedingly jealous of Mole for what he

had just done. It was exactly what he would have liked to have done himself, if only he had thought of it first,

`Some of the stoats turned quite pink,' continued the Mole, `and the Sergeant in charge, he said to me, very

short, he said, "Now run away, my good woman, run away! Don't keep my men idling and talking on their

posts." "Run away?" says I; "it won't be me that'll be running away, in a very short time from now!"'

`I could see them pricking up their ears and looking at each other,' went on the Mole; `and the Sergeant said

`"O! don't I?"' said I. `"Well, let me tell you this. My daughter, she washes for Mr. Badger, and that'll show

you whether I know what I'm talking about; and you'll know pretty soon, too! A hundred bloodthirsty

badgers, armed with rifles, are going to attack Toad Hall this very night, by way of the paddock. Six

boatloads of Rats, with pistols and cutlasses, will come up the river and effect a landing in the garden; while a

picked body of Toads, known at the Diehards, or the DeathorGlory Toads, will storm the orchard and

carry everything before them, yelling for vengeance. There won't be much left of you to wash, by the time

they've done with you, unless you clear out while you have the chance!" Then I ran away, and when I was out

of sight I hid; and presently I came creeping back along the ditch and took a peep at them through the hedge.

They were all as nervous and flustered as could be, running all ways at once, and falling over each other, and

every one giving orders to everybody else and not listening; and the Sergeant kept sending off parties of

stoats to distant parts of the grounds, and then sending other fellows to fetch 'em back again; and I heard them

saying to each other, "That's just like the weasels; they're to stop comfortably in the banquetinghall, and

have feasting and toasts and songs and all sorts of fun, while we must stay on guard in the cold and the dark,

`Mole,' said the Badger, in his dry, quiet way, `I perceive you have more sense in your little finger than some

other animals have in the whole of their fat bodies. You have managed excellently, and I begin to have great

The Toad was simply wild with jealousy, more especially as he couldn't make out for the life of him what the

Mole had done that was so particularly clever; but, fortunately for him, before he could show temper or

It was a simple but sustaining meal bacon and broad beans, and a macaroni pudding; and when they had

quite done, the Badger settled himself into an armchair, and said, `Well, we've got our work cut out for us

tonight, and it will probably be pretty late before we're quite through with it; so I'm just going to take forty

winks, while I can.' And he drew a handkerchief over his face and was soon snoring.

The anxious and laborious Rat at once resumed his preparations, and started running between his four little

heaps, muttering, `Here'sabeltfortheRat, here'sabeltforthe Mole, here'sabeltfortheToad,

here'sabeltfortheBadger!' and so on, with every fresh accoutrement he produced, to which there

seemed really no end; so the Mole drew his arm through Toad's, led him out into the open air, shoved him

into a wicker chair, and made him tell him all his adventures from beginning to end, which Toad was only too

willing to do. The Mole was a good listener, and Toad, with no one to check his statements or to criticise in

an unfriendly spirit, rather let himself go. Indeed, much that he related belonged more properly to the

Those are always the best and the raciest adventures; and why should they not be truly ours, as much as the

WHEN it began to grow dark, the Rat, with an air of excitement and mystery, summoned them back into the

parlour, stood each of them up alongside of his little heap, and proceeded to dress them up for the coming

expedition. He was very earnest and thoroughgoing about it, and the affair took quite a long time. First, there

was a belt to go round each animal, and then a sword to be stuck into each belt, and then a cutlass on the

other side to balance it. Then a pair of pistols, a policeman's truncheon, several sets of handcuffs, some

bandages and stickingplaster, and a flask and a sandwichcase. The Badger laughed goodhumouredly and

said, `All right, Ratty! It amuses you and it doesn't hurt me. I'm going to do all I've got to do with this here

stick.' But the Rat only said, `Please, Badger. You know I shouldn't like you to blame me afterwards and say I

When all was quite ready, the Badger took a dark lantern in one paw, grasped his great stick with the other,

and said, `Now then, follow me! Mole first, `cos I'm very pleased with him; Rat next; Toad last. And look

here, Toady! Don't you chatter so much as usual, or you'll be sent back, as sure as fate!'

The Toad was so anxious not to be left out that he took up the inferior position assigned to him without a

murmur, and the animals set off. The Badger led them along by the river for a little way, and then suddenly

swung himself over the edge into a hole in the riverbank, a little above the water. The Mole and the Rat

followed silently, swinging themselves successfully into the hole as they had seen the Badger do; but when it

came to Toad's turn, of course he managed to slip and fall into the water with a loud splash and a squeal of

alarm. He was hauled out by his friends, rubbed down and wrung out hastily, comforted, and set on his legs;

but the Badger was seriously angry, and told him that the very next time he made a fool of himself he would

So at last they were in the secret passage, and the cuttingout expedition had really begun!

It was cold, and dark, and damp, and low, and narrow, and poor Toad began to shiver, partly from dread of

what might be before him, partly because he was wet through. The lantern was far ahead, and he could not

help lagging behind a little in the darkness. Then he heard the Rat call out warningly, `Come on, Toad!' and a

terror seized him of being left behind, alone in the darkness, and he `came on' with such a rush that he upset

the Rat into the Mole and the Mole into the Badger, and for a moment all was confusion. The Badger thought

they were being attacked from behind, and, as there was no room to use a stick or a cutlass, drew a pistol, and

was on the point of putting a bullet into Toad. When he found out what had really happened he was very

angry indeed, and said, `Now this time that tiresome Toad shall be left behind!'

But Toad whimpered, and the other two promised that they would be answerable for his good conduct, and at

last the Badger was pacified, and the procession moved on; only this time the Rat brought up the rear, with a

So they groped and shuffled along, with their ears pricked up and their paws on their pistols, till at last the

Then suddenly they heard, far away as it might be, and yet apparently nearly over their heads, a confused

murmur of sound, as if people were shouting and cheering and stamping on the floor and hammering on

tables. The Toad's nervous terrors all returned, but the Badger only remarked placidly, `They are going it, the

The passage now began to slope upwards; they groped onward a little further, and then the noise broke out

again, quite distinct this time, and very close above them. `Ooorayoorayoorayooray!' they heard, and

the stamping of little feet on the floor, and the clinking of glasses as little fists pounded on the table. `What a

time they're having!' said the Badger. `Come on!' They hurried along the passage till it came to a full stop,

and they found them selves standing under the trapdoor that led up into the butler's pantry.

Such a tremendous noise was going on in the banquetinghall that there was little danger of their being

overheard. The Badger said, `Now, boys, all together!' and the four of them put their shoulders to the

trapdoor and heaved it back. Hoisting each other up, they found themselves standing in the pantry, with only

a door between them and the banquetinghall, where their unconscious enemies were carousing.

The noise, as they emerged from the passage, was simply deafening. At last, as the cheering and hammering

slowly subsided, a voice could be made out saying, `Well, I do not propose to detain you much longer'

(great applause) `but before I resume my seat' (renewed cheering) `I should like to say one word

about our kind host, Mr. Toad. We all know Toad!' (great laughter) `Good Toad, modest Toad, honest

`Hold hard a minute!' said the Badger, restraining him with difficulty. `Get ready, all of you!'

` Let me sing you a little song,' went on the voice, `which I have composed on the subject of Toad'

`Toad he went apleasuring Gaily down the street ' The Badger drew himself up, took a firm grip of his

Well might the terrified weasels dive under the tables and spring madly up at the windows! Well might the

ferrets rush wildly for the fireplace and get hopelessly jammed in the chimney! Well might tables and chairs

be upset, and glass and china be sent crashing on the floor, in the panic of that terrible moment when the four

Heroes strode wrathfully into the room! The mighty Badger, his whiskers bristling, his great cudgel whistling

through the air; Mole, black and grim, brandishing his stick and shouting his awful warcry, `A Mole! A

Mole!' Rat; desperate and determined, his belt bulging with weapons of every age and every variety; Toad,

frenzied with excitement and injured pride, swollen to twice his ordinary size, leaping into the air and

emitting Toadwhoops that chilled them to the marrow! `Toad he went apleasuring!' he yelled. `I'll pleasure

'em!' and he went straight for the Chief Weasel. They were but four in all, but to the panicstricken weasels

the hall seemed full of monstrous animals, grey, black, brown and yellow, whooping and flourishing

enormous cudgels; and they broke and fled with squeals of terror and dismay, this way and that, through the

The affair was soon over. Up and down, the whole length of the hall, strode the four Friends, whacking with

their sticks at every head that showed itself; and in five minutes the room was cleared. Through the broken

windows the shrieks of terrified weasels escaping across the lawn were borne faintly to their ears; on the floor

lay prostrate some dozen or so of the enemy, on whom the Mole was busily engaged in fitting handcuffs. The

`Mole,' he said,' `you're the best of fellows! Just cut along outside and look after those stoatsentries of yours,

and see what they're doing. I've an idea that, thanks to you, we shan't have much trouble from them tonight!'

The Mole vanished promptly through a window; and the Badger bade the other two set a table on its legs

again, pick up knives and forks and plates and glasses from the debris on the floor, and see if they could find

materials for a supper. `I want some grub, I do,' he said, in that rather common way he had of speaking. `Stir

your stumps, Toad, and look lively! We've got your house back for you, and you don't offer us so much as a

sandwich.' Toad felt rather hurt that the Badger didn't say pleasant things to him, as he had to the Mole, and

tell him what a fine fellow he was, and how splendidly he had fought; for he was rather particularly pleased

with himself and the way he had gone for the Chief Weasel and sent him flying across the table with one

blow of his stick. But he bustled about, and so did the Rat, and soon they found some guava jelly in a glass

dish, and a cold chicken, a tongue that had hardly been touched, some trifle, and quite a lot of lobster salad;

and in the pantry they came upon a basketful of French rolls and any quantity of cheese, butter, and celery.

They were just about to sit down when the Mole clambered in through the window, chuckling, with an armful

`It's all over,' he reported. `From what I can make out, as soon as the stoats, who were very nervous and

jumpy already, heard the shrieks and the yells and the uproar inside the hall, some of them threw down their

rifles and fled. The others stood fast for a bit, but when the weasels came rushing out upon them they thought

they were betrayed; and the stoats grappled with the weasels, and the weasels fought to get away, and they

wrestled and wriggled and punched each other, and rolled over and over, till most of 'em rolled into the river!

They've all disappeared by now, one way or another; and I've got their rifles. So that's all right!'

`Excellent and deserving animal!' said the Badger, his mouth full of chicken and trifle. `Now, there's just one

more thing I want you to do, Mole, before you sit down to your supper along of us; and I wouldn't trouble

you only I know I can trust you to see a thing done, and I wish I could say the same of every one I know. I'd

send Rat, if he wasn't a poet. I want you to take those fellows on the floor there upstairs with you, and have

some bedrooms cleaned out and tidied up and made really comfortable. See that they sweep under the beds,

and put clean sheets and pillowcases on, and turn down one corner of the bedclothes, just as you know it

ought to be done; and have a can of hot water, and clean towels, and fresh cakes of soap, put in each room.

And then you can give them a licking apiece, if it's any satisfaction to you, and put them out by the

backdoor, and we shan't see any more of them, I fancy. And then come along and have some of this cold

The goodnatured Mole picked up a stick, formed his prisoners up in a line on the floor, gave them the order

`Quick march!' and led his squad off to the upper floor. After a time, he appeared again, smiling, and said that

every room was ready, and as clean as a new pin. `And I didn't have to lick them, either,' he added. `I thought,

on the whole, they had had licking enough for one night, and the weasels, when I put the point to them, quite

agreed with me, and said they wouldn't think of troubling me. They were very penitent, and said they were

extremely sorry for what they had done. but it was all the fault of the Chief Weasel and the stoats, and if ever

they could do anything for us at any time to make up, we had only got to mention it. So I gave them a roll

Then the Mole pulled his chair up to the table, and pitched into the cold tongue; and Toad, like the gentleman

he was, put all his jealousy from him, and said heartily, `Thank you kindly, dear Mole, for all your pains and

trouble tonight, and especially for your cleverness this morning!' The Badger was pleased at that, and said,

`There spoke my brave Toad!' So they finished their supper in great joy and contentment, and presently

retired to rest between clean sheets, safe in Toad's ancestral home, won back by matchless valour,

The following morning, Toad, who had overslept himself as usual, came down to breakfast disgracefully late,

and found on the table a certain quantity of eggshells, some fragments of cold and leathery toast, a

coffeepot threefourths empty, and really very little else; which did not tend to improve his temper,

considering that, after all, it was his own house. Through the French windows of the breakfastroom he could

see the Mole and the Water Rat sitting in wickerchairs out on the lawn, evidently telling each other stories;

roaring with laughter and kicking their short legs up in the air. The Badger, who was in an armchair and

deep in the morning paper, merely looked up and nodded when Toad entered the room. But Toad knew his

man, so he sat down and made the best breakfast he could, merely observing to himself that he would get

square with the others sooner or later. When he had nearly finished, the Badger looked up and remarked

rather shortly: `I'm sorry, Toad, but I'm afraid there's a heavy morning's work in front of you. You see, we

really ought to have a Banquet at once, to celebrate this affair. It's expected of you in fact, it's the rule.'

`O, all right!' said the Toad, readily. `Anything to oblige. Though why on earth you should want to have a

Banquet in the morning I cannot understand. But you know I do not live to please myself, but merely to find

out what my friends want, and then try and arrange it for 'em, you dear old Badger!'

`Don't pretend to be stupider than you really are,' replied the Badger, crossly; `and don't chuckle and splutter

in your coffee while you're talking; it's not manners. What I mean is, the Banquet will be at night, of course,

but the invitations will have to be written and got off at once, and you've got to write 'em. Now, sit down at

that table there's stacks of letterpaper on it, with "Toad Hall" at the top in blue and gold and write

invitations to all our friends, and if you stick to it we shall get them out before luncheon. And I'll bear a hand,

`What!' cried Toad, dismayed. `Me stop indoors and write a lot of rotten letters on a jolly morning like this,

when I want to go around my property, and set everything and everybody to rights, and swagger about and

enjoy myself! Certainly not! I'll be I'll see you Stop a minute, though! Why, of course, dear

Badger! What is my pleasure or convenience compared with that of others! You wish it done, and it shall be

done. Go, Badger, order the Banquet, order what you like; then join our young friends outside in their

innocent mirth, oblivious of me and my cares and toils. I sacrifice this fair morning on the altar of duty and

The Badger looked at him very suspiciously, but Toad's frank, open countenance made it difficult to suggest

any unworthy motive in this change of attitude. He quitted the room, accordingly, in the direction of the

kitchen, and as soon as the door had closed behind him, Toad hurried to the writingtable. A fine idea had

occurred to him while he was talking. He would write the invitations; and he would take care to mention the

leading part he had taken in the fight, and how he had laid the Chief Weasel flat; and he would hint at his

adventures, and what a career of triumph he had to tell about; and on the flyleaf he would set out a sort of a

programme of entertainment for the evening something like this, as he sketched it out in his head:

(There will be other speeches by TOAD during the evening.) ADDRESS . . . BY TOAD

SYNOPSIS Our Prison System the Waterways of Old England Horsedealing, and how to deal Property, its rights and its duties Back to the Land A Typical English Squire. SONG . . . . BY TOAD.

The idea pleased him mightly, and he worked very hard and got all the letters finished by noon, at which hour

it was reported to him that there was a small and rather bedraggled weasel at the door, inquiring timidly

whether he could be of any service to the gentlemen. Toad swaggered out and found it was one of the

prisoners of the previous evening, very respectful and anxious to please. He patted him on the head, shoved

the bundle of invitations into his paw, and told him to cut along quick and deliver them as fast as he could,

and if he liked to come back again in the evening, perhaps there might be a shilling for him, or, again,

perhaps there mightn't; and the poor weasel seemed really quite grateful, and hurried off eagerly to do his

When the other animals came back to luncheon, very boisterous and breezy after a morning on the river, the

Mole, whose conscience had been pricking him, looked doubtfully at Toad, expecting to find him sulky or

depressed. Instead, he was so uppish and inflated that the Mole began to suspect something; while the Rat

As soon as the meal was over, Toad thrust his paws deep into his trouserpockets, remarked casually, `Well,

look after yourselves, you fellows! Ask for anything you want!' and was swaggering off in the direction of

the garden, where he wanted to think out an idea or two for his coming speeches, when the Rat caught him by

Toad rather suspected what he was after, and did his best to get away; but when the Badger took him firmly

by the other arm he began to see that the game was up. The two animals conducted him between them into

the small smokingroom that opened out of the entrancehall, shut the door, and put him into a chair. Then

they both stood in front of him, while Toad sat silent and regarded them with much suspicion and illhumour.

`Now, look here, Toad,' said the Rat. `It's about this Banquet, and very sorry I am to have to speak to you like

this. But we want you to understand clearly, once and for all, that there are going to be no speeches and no

songs. Try and grasp the fact that on this occasion we're not arguing with you; we're just telling you.'

Toad saw that he was trapped. They understood him, they saw through him, they had got ahead of him. His

`No, not one little song,' replied the Rat firmly, though his heart bled as he noticed the trembling lip of the

poor disappointed Toad. `It's no good, Toady; you know well that your songs are all conceit and boasting and

vanity; and your speeches are all selfpraise and and well, and gross exaggeration and and '

`It's for your own good, Toady,' went on the Rat. `You know you must turn over a new leaf sooner or later,

and now seems a splendid time to begin; a sort of turningpoint in your career. Please don't think that saying

Toad remained a long while plunged in thought. At last he raised his head, and the traces of strong emotion

were visible on his features. `You have conquered, my friends,' he said in broken accents. `It was, to be sure,

but a small thing that I asked merely leave to blossom and expand for yet one more evening, to let myself

go and hear the tumultuous applause that always seems to me somehow to bring out my best qualities.

However, you are right, I know, and I am wrong. Hence forth I will be a very different Toad. My friends, you

shall never have occasion to blush for me again. But, O dear, O dear, this is a hard world!'

And, pressing his handkerchief to his face, he left the room, with faltering footsteps.

`O, I know, I know,' said the Badger gloomily. `But the thing had to be done. This good fellow has got to live

here, and hold his own, and be respected. Would you have him a common laughingstock, mocked and

`Of course not,' said the Rat. `And, talking of weasels, it's lucky we came upon that little weasel, just as he

was setting out with Toad's invitations. I suspected something from what you told me, and had a look at one

or two; they were simply disgraceful. I confiscated the lot, and the good Mole is now sitting in the blue

At last the hour for the banquet began to draw near, and Toad, who on leaving the others had retired to his

bedroom, was still sitting there, melancholy and thoughtful. His brow resting on his paw, he pondered long

and deeply. Gradually his countenance cleared, and he began to smile long, slow smiles. Then he took to

giggling in a shy, selfconscious manner. At last he got up, locked the door, drew the curtains across the

windows, collected all the chairs in the room and arranged them in a semicircle, and took up his position in

front of them, swelling visibly. Then he bowed, coughed twice, and, letting himself go, with uplifted voice he

He sang this very loud, with great unction and expression; and when he had done, he sang it all over again.

Then he dipped his hairbrush in the waterjug, parted his hair in the middle, and plastered it down very

straight and sleek on each side of his face; and, unlocking the door, went quietly down the stairs to greet his

All the animals cheered when he entered, and crowded round to congratulate him and say nice things about

his courage, and his cleverness, and his fighting qualities; but Toad only smiled faintly, and murmured, `Not

at all!' Or, sometimes, for a change, `On the contrary!' Otter, who was standing on the hearthrug, describing

to an admiring circle of friends exactly how he would have managed things had be{sic} been there, came

forward with a shout, threw his arm round Toad's neck, and tried to take him round the room in triumphal

progress; but Toad, in a mild way, was rather snubby to him, remarking gently, as he disengaged himself,

`Badger's was the mastermind; the Mole and the Water Rat bore the brunt of the fighting; I merely served in

the ranks and did little or nothing.' The animals were evidently puzzled and taken aback by this unexpected

attitude of his; and Toad felt, as he moved from one guest to the other, making his modest responses, that he

The Badger had ordered everything of the best, and the banquet was a great success. There was much talking

and laughter and chaff among the animals, but through it all Toad, who of course was in the chair, looked

down his nose and murmured pleasant nothings to the animals on either side of him. At intervals he stole a

glance at the Badger and the Rat, and always when he looked they were staring at each other with their

mouths open; and this gave him the greatest satisfaction. Some of the younger and livelier animals, as the

evening wore on, got whispering to each other that things were not so amusing as they used to be in the good

old days; and there were some knockings on the table and cries of `Toad! Speech! Speech from Toad! Song!

Mr. Toad's song!' But Toad only shook his head gently, raised one paw in mild protest, and, by pressing

delicacies on his guests, by topical smalltalk, and by earnest inquiries after members of their families not yet

old enough to appear at social functions, managed to convey to them that this dinner was being run on strictly

After this climax, the four animals continued to lead their lives, so rudely broken in upon by civil war, in

great joy and contentment, undisturbed by further risings or invasions. Toad, after due consultation with his

friends, selected a handsome gold chain and locket set with pearls, which he dispatched to the gaoler's

daughter with a letter that even the Badger admitted to be modest, grateful, and appreciative; and the

enginedriver, in his turn, was properly thanked and compensated for all his pains and trouble. Under severe

compulsion from the Badger, even the bargewoman was, with some trouble, sought out and the value of her

horse discreetly made good to her; though Toad kicked terribly at this, holding himself to be an instrument of

Fate, sent to punish fat women with mottled arms who couldn't tell a real gentleman when they saw one. The

amount involved, it was true, was not very burdensome, the gipsy's valuation being admitted by local

Sometimes, in the course of long summer evenings, the friends would take a stroll together in the Wild

Wood, now successfully tamed so far as they were concerned; and it was pleasing to see how respectfully

they were greeted by the inhabitants, and how the motherweasels would bring their young ones to the

mouths of their holes, and say, pointing, `Look, baby! There goes the great Mr. Toad! And that's the gallant

Water Rat, a terrible fighter, walking along o' him! And yonder comes the famous Mr. Mole, of whom you so

often have heard your father tell!' But when their infants were fractious and quite beyond control, they would

quiet them by telling how, if they didn't hush them and not fret them, the terrible grey Badger would up and

get them. This was a base libel on Badger, who, though he cared little about Society, was rather fond of