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.
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 armchair, ‘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 the 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.