`Like Summer Tempests Came His Tears'

‘LIKE SUMMER TEMPESTS CAME HIS TEARS'

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 water-logged 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 high-spirited 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 wanted such a lot

of living up to.

‘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 hold on till I tell you----'

‘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, disreputable-looking object than you are I

never set eyes on in my whole life! Now, stop swaggering and

arguing, and be off! I'll have something to say to you later!'

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 looking-glass over the hat-stand, 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

dressing-room. There he had a thorough wash and brush-up,

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 highly-coloured experience. But the more he talked and

boasted, the more grave and silent the Rat became.

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 motor-car. You know that you've never had anything but

trouble from motor-cars 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 gaol-birds?'

Now, it was a very comforting point in Toad's character that he

was a thoroughly good-hearted 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, k-i-ck-ck-ck, and poop-p-p, and other sounds

resembling stifled snorts, or the opening of soda-water 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 motor-cars, 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

motor-boats--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 pony-chaise to jog about the

country in, just as I used to in the good old days, before I got

restless, and wanted to DO things.'

‘Stroll quietly down to Toad Hall?' cried the Rat, greatly

excited. ‘What are you talking about? Do you mean to say you

haven't HEARD?'

‘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 nothing about the

Stoats and Weasels?'

What, the Wild Wooders?' cried Toad, trembling in every limb.

‘No, not a word! What have they been doing?'

‘--And how they've been and taken Toad Hall?' continued the Rat.

Toad leaned his elbows on the table, and his chin on his paws;

and a large tear welled up in each of his eyes, overflowed and

splashed on the table, plop! plop!

‘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 know--'

Toad merely nodded.

‘Well, it was a good deal talked about down here, naturally,'

continued the Rat, ‘not only along the river-side, but even in

the Wild Wood. Animals took sides, as always happens. The

River-bankers 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 come back again, never, never!'

Toad nodded once more, keeping silence.

‘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!'

Toad began to sit up in his chair again, and to smirk a little.

‘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 carriage-drive to the

front entrance. Simultaneously, a body of desperate

ferrets, advancing through the kitchen-garden, possessed

themselves of the backyard and offices; while a company of

skirmishing stoats who stuck at nothing occupied the conservatory

and the billiard-room, and held the French windows opening on to

the lawn.

‘The Mole and the Badger were sitting by the fire in the smoking-

room, 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 wet, with many insulting and uncalled-

for remarks!'

Here the unfeeling Toad broke into a snigger, and then pulled

himself together and tried to look particularly solemn.

‘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 trouble.'

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 popped up from behind the palings a

long yellow ferret with a gun.

‘Who comes there?' said the ferret sharply.

‘Stuff and nonsense!' said Toad, very angrily. ‘What do you mean

by talking like that to me? Come out of that at once, or

I'll----'

The ferret said never a word, but he brought his gun up to

his shoulder. Toad prudently dropped flat in the road, and

BANG! a bullet whistled over his head.

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.

He went back, very crestfallen, and told the Water Rat.

‘What did I tell you?' said the Rat. ‘It's no good. They've got

sentries posted, and they are all armed. You must just wait.'

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 where the garden

front of Toad Hall came down to the waterside.

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 boat-house, the little

wooden bridge that crossed it; all tranquil, uninhabited,

apparently waiting for his return. He would try the boat-house

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 again, till they

nearly had two fits--that is, one fit each, of course.

The Toad retraced his weary way on foot, and related his

disappointing experiences to the Water Rat once more.

‘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 wrong-headedness and made a full apology

to Rat for losing his boat and spoiling his clothes. And he

wound up by saying, with that frank self-surrender 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 good-natured 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 fellows? I had

forgotten all about them.'

‘Well may you ask!' said the Rat reproachfully. ‘While you were

riding about the country in expensive motor-cars, and galloping

proudly on blood-horses, 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 be sorry you didn't value them more while you had them!'

‘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 chink of dishes on a tray! Supper's

here at last, hooray! Come on, Ratty!'

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 him in his gallant efforts to make up for

past privations.

They had just finished their meal and resumed their arm-chairs,

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 in walked Mr. Badger.

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 home-coming. Unhappy

Toad!' Then he turned his back on him, sat down to the table,

drew his chair up, and helped himself to a large slice of cold

pie.

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 his fur.

‘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, you clever, ingenious, intelligent Toad!'

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 everybody, that's all! O, no! I'm a stupid ass,

I am! I'll tell you one or two of my little adventures, Mole,

and you shall judge for yourself!'

‘Well, well,' said the Mole, moving towards the supper-table;

‘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 hearth-rug, thrust his paw into his

trouser-pocket 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 I done it, Mole? Horse-

dealing! That's how I done it!'

‘Go on, Toad,' said the Mole, immensely interested.

‘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 last.'

‘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 look-out, 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 mind, what

Toad really ought to do. I will tell you. He ought to----'

‘No, he oughtn't!' shouted the Mole, with his mouth full.

‘Nothing of the sort! You don't understand. What he ought to do

is, he ought to----'

‘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 silent.

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 held him firmly down.

When the Badger had quite done, he got up from his seat and stood

before the fireplace, reflecting deeply. At last he spoke.

‘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 to-night, and had

known of all your goings on?'

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. They're too strong for us.'

‘Then it's all over,' sobbed the Toad, crying into the sofa

cushions. ‘I shall go and enlist for a soldier, and never see my

dear Toad Hall any more!'

‘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, after having faithfully promised not to.

‘There--is--an--underground--passage,' said the Badger,

impressively, ‘that leads from the river-bank, quite near here,

right up into the middle of Toad Hall.'

‘O, nonsense! Badger,' said Toad, rather airily. ‘You've been

listening to some of the yarns they spin in the public-houses

about here. I know every inch of Toad Hall, inside and out.

Nothing of the sort, I do assure you!'

‘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; but not before."'

The other animals looked hard at Toad to see how he would take

it. Toad was inclined to be sulky at first; but he brightened up

immediately, like the good fellow he was.

‘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. How's this passage of yours going to help us?'

‘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 back-

door with brushes over his shoulder, asking for a job. There's

going to be a big banquet to-morrow night. It's somebody's

birthday--the Chief Weasel's, I believe--and all the weasels will

be gathered together in the dining-hall, eating and drinking and

laughing and carrying on, suspecting nothing. No guns, no

swords, no sticks, no arms of any sort whatever!'

‘But the sentinels will be posted as usual,' remarked the Rat.

‘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 dining-hall!'

‘Aha! that squeaky board in the butler's pantry!' said Toad.

‘Now I understand it!'

‘We shall creep out quietly into the butler's pantry--' cried the

Mole.

‘--with our pistols and swords and sticks--' shouted the Rat.

‘--and rush in upon them,' said the Badger.

‘--and whack 'em, and whack 'em, and whack 'em!' cried the Toad

in ecstasy, running round and round the room, and jumping over

the chairs

‘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 to-morrow.'

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 banqueting-hall with his

week's washing, just as he was giving a dinner-party; 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 that he really was a clever Toad.

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 arm-chair, 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's-a-sword-for-the-Rat, here's-a-sword-

for-the Mole, here's-a-sword-for-the-Toad, here's-a-sword-

for-the-Badger! Here's-a-pistol-for-the-Rat, here's-a-pistol-

for-the-Mole, here's-a-pistol-for-the-Toad, here's-a-pistol-for-

the-Badger!' And so on, in a regular, rhythmical way, while the

four little heaps gradually grew and grew.

‘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 dining-hall, why, we shall clear the floor of all the

lot of them in five minutes. I'd have done the whole thing by

myself, only I didn't want to deprive you fellows of the fun!'

‘It's as well to be on the safe side,' said the Rat reflectively,

polishing a pistol-barrel on his sleeve and looking along it.

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 what's more,

we're going to DO it, too!'

‘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 'em!' till the Badger told him rather

sharply to leave off.

Presently the Mole came tumbling into the room, evidently very

pleased with himself. ‘I've been having such fun!' he began at

once; ‘I've been getting a rise out of the stoats!'

‘I hope you've been very careful, Mole?' said the Rat anxiously.

‘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 washerwoman-

dress that he came home in yesterday, hanging on a towel-horse

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 look-out, of course, with their guns and

their "Who comes there?" and all the rest of their nonsense.

"Good morning, gentlemen!" says I, very respectful. "Want any

washing done to-day?"

‘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, and hadn't gone and overslept

himself.

‘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!"'

‘O MOLY, how could you?' said the Rat, dismayed.

The Badger laid down his paper.

‘I could see them pricking up their ears and looking at each

other,' went on the Mole; ‘and the Sergeant said to them, "Never

mind HER; she doesn't know what she's talking about."'

‘"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 Die-hards, or the Death-or-Glory 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

banqueting-hall, and have feasting and toasts and songs and all

sorts of fun, while we must stay on guard in the cold and the

dark, and in the end be cut to pieces by bloodthirsty Badgers!'"

‘Oh, you silly ass, Mole!' cried Toad, ‘You've been and spoilt

everything!'

‘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 hopes of you. Good Mole!

Clever Mole!'

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 expose himself to the Badger's sarcasm,

the bell rang for luncheon.

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 arm-chair, and said, ‘Well, we've got our

work cut out for us to-night, 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's-a-belt-for-the-Rat, here's-a-belt-for-the Mole, here's-a-

belt-for-the-Toad, here's-a-belt-for-the-Badger!' 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 category of what-might-

have-happened-had-I-only-thought-of-it-in-time-instead-of-ten-

minutes-afterwards. Those are always the best and the raciest

adventures; and why should they not be truly ours, as much as the

somewhat inadequate things that really come off?