‘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 letter-paper 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, too; and take my share of the burden. I’ll order the Banquet.’
‘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 friendship!’
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 writing-table.
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 fly-leaf 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:
– SPEECH… BY TOAD. (There will be other speeches by TOAD during the evening.)
ADDRESS… BY TOAD
SYNOPSIS – Our Prison System – the Waterways of Old England – Horse-dealing, and how to deal – Property, its rights and its duties – Back to the Land – A Typical English Squire.
SONG… BY TOAD.
(Composed by himself.)
OTHER COMPOSITIONS . BY TOAD will be sung in the course of the evening by the… COMPOSER.
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 mission.
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 and the Badger exchanged significant glances.
As soon as the meal was over, Toad thrust his paws deep into his trouser-pockets, 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 the arm.
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 smoking-room that opened out of the entrance-hall, 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 ill-humour.
‘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 pleasant dream was shattered.
‘Mayn’t I sing them just one little song?’ he pleaded piteously.
‘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 self-praise and – and – well, and gross exaggeration and – and – ’
‘And gas,’ put in the Badger, in his common way.
‘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 turning-point in your career.
Please don’t think that saying all this doesn’t hurt me more than it hurts you.’