in, all of you, and warm yourselves by the fire, and have something
hot!"
"Yes, come along, field-mice," 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 talk to you. Now, tell me,
are there any shops open at this hour of the night?"
"Why, certainly, sir," replied the field-mouse respectfully. "At this
time of the year our shops keep open to all sorts of hours."
"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, home-made, no
tinned stuff--well then, do the best you can!" Finally, there was a
chink of coin passing from paw to paw, the field-mouse was provided
with an ample basket for his purchases, and off he hurried, he and his
lantern.
The rest of the field-mice, 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 a-carolling this year, but
looked forward very shortly to winning the parental consent.
The Rat, meanwhile, was busy examining the label on one of the
beer-bottles. "I perceive this to be Old Burton," he remarked
approvingly. "_Sensible_ Mole! The very thing! Now we shall be able to
mull some ale! Get the things ready, Mole, while I draw the corks."
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 field-mouse 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
field-mouse 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 lady-love
had gone into a convent. Here, _you_! You were in it, I remember. Get
up and recite a bit."
The field-mouse addressed got up on his legs, giggled shyly, looked
round the room, and remained absolutely tongue-tied. 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 stage-fright. 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
field-mouse with the lantern reappeared, staggering under the weight
of his basket.
There was no more talk of play-acting 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 home-coming this had turned out, after
all. As they ate, they talked of old times, and the field-mice 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 handy!"
He clambered into his bunk and rolled himself well up in the blankets,
and slumber gathered him forthwith, as a swathe of barley is folded
into the arms of the reaping machine.
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 him again and could
always be counted upon for the same simple welcome.
VI
MR. TOAD
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 boat-hooks, 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 parlour door open, and announced with
much importance, "Mr. Badger!"
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
undertaking.
The Badger strode heavily into the room, and stood looking at the two
animals with an expression full of seriousness. The Rat let his
egg-spoon fall on the table-cloth, and sat open-mouthed.
"The hour has come!" said the Badger at last with great solemnity.
"What hour?" asked the Rat uneasily, glancing at the clock on the
mantelpiece.
"_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
to-day!"
"Toad's hour, of course!" cried the Mole delightedly. "Hooray! I
remember now! _We'll_ teach him to be a sensible Toad!"
"This very morning," continued the Badger, taking an arm-chair, "as I
learnt last night from a trustworthy source, another new and
exceptionally powerful motor-car 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) good-looking Toad into an Object
which throws any decent-minded 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 the most converted Toad
that ever was before we've done with him!"
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 support to each other in case of sudden trouble or danger.
They reached the carriage-drive of Toad Hall to find, as Badger had
anticipated, a shiny new motor-car, 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 swaggering down the steps,
drawing on his gauntleted gloves.
"Hullo! come on, you fellows!" he cried cheerfully on catching sight
of them. "You're just in time to come with me for a jolly--to come for
a jolly--for a--er--jolly--"
His hearty accents faltered and fell away as he noticed the stern
unbending look on the countenances of his silent friends, and his
invitation remained unfinished.
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
motor-car.
"I'm afraid you won't be wanted to-day," 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 ridiculous things off!"
"Shan't!" replied Toad, with great spirit. "What is the meaning of
this gross outrage? I demand an instant explanation."
"Take them off him, then, you two," ordered the Badger briefly.
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 motor-clothes 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 smoking-room, and there you will hear some
facts about yourself; and we'll see whether you come out of that room
the same Toad that you went in."
He took Toad firmly by the arm, led him into the smoking-room, 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 arm-chairs 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 long-drawn sobs, evidently proceeding from the bosom of
Toad, who was a soft-hearted and affectionate fellow, very easily
converted--for the time being--to any point of view.
After some three-quarters 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 motor-cars
entirely and for ever. I have his solemn promise to that effect."
"That is very good news," said the Mole gravely.
"Very good news indeed," observed the Rat dubiously, "if only--_if_
only--"
He was looking very hard at Toad as he said this, and could not help
thinking he perceived something vaguely resembling a twinkle in that
animal's still sorrowful eye.
"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 smoking-room just now.
First, you are sorry for what you've done, and you see the folly of it
all?"
There was a long, long pause. Toad looked desperately this way and
that, while the other animals waited in grave silence. At last he
spoke.
"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?"
"Then you don't promise," said the Badger, "never to touch a motor-car
again?"
"Certainly not!" replied Toad emphatically. "On the contrary, I
faithfully promise that the very first motor-car I see, poop-poop! off
I go in it!"
"Told you so, didn't I?" observed the Rat to the Mole.
"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 we arrange matters between ourselves."
"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 you've quite got over this--this painful attack of
yours!"
"We'll take great care of everything for you till you're well, Toad,"
said the Mole; "and we'll see your money isn't wasted, as it has
been."
"No more of those regrettable incidents with the police, Toad," said
the Rat, as they thrust him into his bedroom.
"And no more weeks in hospital, being ordered about by female nurses,
Toad," added the Mole, turning the key on him.
They descended the stair, Toad shouting abuse at them through the
keyhole; and the three friends then met in conference on the
situation.
"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 him, till the poison has worked itself out of his system."
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 motor-car 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 depressed.
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
Sunday-school prize, then he's at his artfullest. There's sure to be
something up. I know him. Well, now, I must be off."
"How are you to-day, 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 be one much longer. Indeed, I almost hope not."
"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 know."
"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 sensible animal."
"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 very still and flat, and his voice
was weaker and his manner much changed.
"Surely you have noticed of late--" murmured Toad. "But, no--why
should you? Noticing things is only a trouble. To-morrow, indeed, you
may be saying to yourself, 'O, if only I had noticed sooner! If only I
had done something!' But no; it's a trouble. Never mind--forget that I
asked."
"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
exhausted nature!"
"A lawyer! O, he must be really bad!" the affrighted Rat said to
himself, as he hurried from the room, not forgetting, however, to lock
the door carefully behind him.
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 carriage-drive. 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 dressing-table, 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 direction to the Rat, marched off
light-heartedly, whistling a merry tune.
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, too, of all animals!"
"He did it awfully well," said the crestfallen Rat.
"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
sentry-go. But we'd better continue to sleep at Toad Hall for a while
longer. Toad may be brought back at any moment--on a stretcher, or
between two policemen."
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 by-paths, 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 self-praise that his own heart was singing to
him, he almost danced along the road in his satisfaction and conceit.