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II 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.'
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