The Open Road

‘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, just under where their chins would be if ducks had

chins, till they were forced to come to the surface again in a

hurry, spluttering and angry and shaking their 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

‘DUCKS' DITTY.'

All along the backwater,

Through the rushes tall,

Ducks are a-dabbling,

Up tails all!

Ducks' tails, drakes' tails,

Yellow feet a-quiver,

Yellow bills all out of sight

Busy in the river!

Slushy green undergrowth

Where the roach swim--

Here we keep our larder,

Cool and full and dim.

Everyone for what he likes!

WE like to be

Heads down, tails up,

Dabbling free!

High in the blue above

Swifts whirl and call--

WE are down a-dabbling

Up tails all!

‘I don't know that I think so VERY much of that little song,

Rat,' observed the Mole cautiously. He was no poet himself

and didn't care who knew it; and he had a candid nature.

‘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 say.'

‘So it is, so it is,' said the Mole, with great heartiness.

‘No, it isn't!' cried the Rat indignantly.

‘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 good-natured 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 good-tempered, 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 settled himself

comfortably in the stern.

‘He is indeed the best of animals,' replied Rat. ‘So simple, so

good-natured, 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 got some great qualities, has

Toady.'

Rounding a bend in the river, they came in sight of a handsome,

dignified old house of mellowed red brick, with well-kept lawns

reaching down to the water's edge.

‘There's Toad Hall,' said the Rat; ‘and that creek on the left,

where the notice-board says, "Private. No landing allowed,"

leads to his boat-house, where we'll leave the boat. The stables

are over there to the right. That's the banqueting-hall 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 boat-house. Here they saw

many handsome boats, slung from the cross beams or hauled up on a

slip, but none in the water; and the place had an unused and a

deserted air.

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 soon enough.'

They disembarked, and strolled across the gay flower-decked lawns

in search of Toad, whom they presently happened upon resting in a

wicker garden-chair, with a pre-occupied expression of face, and

a large map spread out on his knees.

‘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

and have something! You don't know how lucky it is, your turning

up just now!'

‘Let's sit quiet a bit, Toady!' said the Rat, throwing himself

into an easy chair, while the Mole took another by the side of

him and made some civil remark about Toad's ‘delightful

residence.'

‘Finest house on the whole river,' cried Toad boisterously. ‘Or

anywhere else, for that matter,' he could not help adding.

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 stable-yard, and you

shall see what you shall see!'

He led the way to the stable-yard 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 canary-yellow picked out with green, and red

wheels.

‘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 to-day, up and off to somewhere else to-morrow!

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 arrangements. Planned

'em all myself, I did!'

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 was.

It was indeed very compact and comfortable. Little sleeping

bunks--a little table that folded up against the wall--a cooking-

stove, lockers, bookshelves, a bird-cage with a bird in it; and

pots, pans, jugs and kettles of every size and variety.

‘All complete!' said the Toad triumphantly, pulling open a

locker. ‘You see--biscuits, potted lobster, sardines--everything

you can possibly want. Soda-water here--baccy there--letter-

paper, bacon, jam, cards and dominoes--you'll find,' he

continued, as they descended the steps again, ‘you'll find that

nothing what ever has been forgotten, when we make our start

this afternoon.'

‘I beg your pardon,' said the Rat slowly, as he chewed a straw,

‘but did I overhear you say something about "WE," and

"START," and "THIS AFTERNOON?"'

‘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

ANIMAL of you, my boy!'

‘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, aren't you, Mole?'

‘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 canary-coloured 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 others!" That's my motto in life.'

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 roadside 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 good-nature to

over-ride 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; good-natured wayfarers,

passing them, gave them ‘Good-day,' or stopped to say nice things

about their beautiful cart; and rabbits, sitting at their front

doors in the hedgerows, held up their fore-paws, and said, ‘O my!

O my! O my!'

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 your old river!'

‘I DON'T talk about my river,' replied the patient Rat.

‘You KNOW I don't, Toad. But I THINK about it,' he added

pathetically, in a lower tone: ‘I think about it--all the time!'

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 to-morrow

morning, quite early--VERY early--and go back to our dear old

hole on the river?'

‘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 night!'

The end was indeed nearer than even the Rat suspected.

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 by-lanes, 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 high-road, their first high-

road; and there disaster, fleet and unforeseen, sprang out on

them--disaster momentous indeed to their expedition, but simply

overwhelming in its effect on the after-career of Toad.

They were strolling along the high-road 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 ‘Poop-poop!'

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 ‘Poop-poop' rang with a brazen shout in

their ears, they had a moment's glimpse of an interior of

glittering plate-glass and rich morocco, and the magnificent

motor-car, immense, breath-snatching, 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 distance, changed back into a droning bee once more.

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 canary-coloured cart, their pride and their joy,

lay on its side in the ditch, an irredeemable wreck.

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 home-sickness had quite slipped away from him, and

for the moment he was the skipper of the canary-coloured

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 steam-launches when their

wash, as they drove too near the bank, used to flood his parlour-

carpet 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 motor-car. He breathed short, his face wore a

placid satisfied expression, and at intervals he faintly murmured

‘Poop-poop!'

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, sardine-

tins scattered over the wide world, and the bird in the bird-cage

sobbing pitifully and calling to be let out.

The Rat came to help him, but their united efforts were not

sufficient to right the cart. ‘Hi! Toad!' they cried. ‘Come and

bear a hand, can't you!'

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 ‘Poop-poop!'

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 to-day--in next week to-morrow!

Villages skipped, towns and cities jumped--always somebody else's

horizon! O bliss! O poop-poop! O my! O my!'

‘O STOP being an ass, Toad!' cried the Mole despairingly.

‘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 dust-clouds 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!

Horrid little carts--common carts--canary-coloured carts!'

‘What are we to do with him?' asked the Mole of the Water Rat.

‘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 to come along?'

‘O, BOTHER Toad,' said the Rat savagely; ‘I've done with him!'

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 vacancy.

‘Now, look here, Toad!' said the Rat sharply: ‘as soon as we get

to the town, you'll have to go straight to the police-station,

and see if they know anything about that motor-car 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 nerves have

recovered their shock.'

‘Police-station! 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 you, my best of friends!'

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 to-night. And if ever you catch

me going a-pleasuring with this provoking animal again!'

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 second-class waiting-room, 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

spell-bound, sleep-walking 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 boat-house,

sculled down the river home, and at a very late hour sat down to

supper in their own cosy riverside parlour, to the Rat's great

joy and contentment.

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 motor-car.'

III