The Wind in the Willows (Illustrated by Nancy Barnhart)
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About this ebook
Kenneth Grahame
Kenneth Grahame was born in Edinburgh in 1859. He was educated at St Edward's School, Oxford, but family circumstances prevented him from entering Oxford University. He joined the Bank of England as a gentleman clerk in 1879, rising to become the Bank's Secretary in 1898. He wrote a series of short stories, married Elspeth Thomson in 1899 and their only child, Alistair, was born a year later. He left the Bank in 1908, the year that The Wind in the Willows was published. Though not an immediate success, by the time of Grahame's death in 1932 it was recognised as a children's classic.
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Reviews for The Wind in the Willows (Illustrated by Nancy Barnhart)
3,170 ratings150 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Great fun to reacquaint myself with Rat, Mole, Badger and Toad after so many years. Something was missing from the magical experience........Yes, a young child hanging off every word. Looks like one to keep for any future grand children
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Wind in The Willows is a highly inventive, very English story about the rich spoiled Toad and his worthy friends, Rat, Mole, Badger, etc. It has become a timeless classic that appeals to all ages. This would make an ideal read aloud story for children as an adult could help with the pacing and perhaps put on interesting voices for the various characters.A morality tale that praises the value of friendship and community, this story has it’s slightly dark moments, but over all it is a gentle tale that paints a strong picture of English country life as we would all wish it to be. This very comforting read delivers it’s message in a subtle, humorous fashion helped by it’s Edwardian pastoral setting and woodland creatures who have very human characteristics.I read this book in short installments through the Daily Lit on-line site, and found myself so looking forward to my next installment that I often didn’t wait but pushed the button for immediate delivery of the next chapter.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Interesting to revisit an old friend. The good bits are still good, but I really can't warm to toad. I kept getting distracted by wondering how they earned a living and what size they were meant to be - the disadvantage of growing up.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5This classic of children’s literature tells the adventures of four good friends – Mole, Rat, Badger and Toad – living on the edge of The Wild Wood. Toad is the most vexing animal! He’s boastful and given to hyperbole; on the other hand, he’s generous with his friends and sincerely remorseful – eventually. Fortunately for him, his friends compensate for his shortcomings. Rat is ever resourceful and a font of information. Badger is the wise old man of the wild wood – somewhat of a recluse, but gracious and eager to help when called up. And then we have the ever curious Mole who starts out the adventure and proves to be steadfast, reliable and intelligent.
Mary Woods does a great job performing the audio book. I can see why it’s remained popular with children for over 100 years. Somehow I never read it as a child (or have no memory of it). My adult self wasn’t all that impressed, however, so it gets a respectable but not enthusiastic 3 stars. - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Excellent comfort book for when the day has been just that bad.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A classic of children's literature. Wonderful.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I just finished reading this story to my five year-old daughter. She loved it! I sometimes needed to substitute more familiar vocabulary for less to create a smoother read aloud experience. For a slightly older child I wouldn't think this would be necessary. If you have only seen the Disney version, you are missing out. The characters are very genuine and lovable. The adventures they have are exciting without being terrifying, funny without being too silly, and the story is long enough for the reader (or read-to) to connect with the animals.I wasn't sure if the pace would be too slow for a young child, but it was not. The book could be divided into three acts: The River, The Woods, and Mr. Toad. Each story arc was exciting enough in it's own way to keep attention. The addition of so many wonderful full-color illustrations by Inga Moore only helped to hold interest. My daughter was truly sad to finish the final chapter. She now plays "Wind in the Willows" with her stuffed friends so that even though we have finished the book - the story continues.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Wind in the Willows is regarded as a classic of chidlren's literature, and while it is enjoyable, I'm not sure it deserves that status. The book follows the activities (I hesitate to call some of the trivial things they engage in adventures) of four animal friends: Mole, Water Rat, Badger, and Toad. For the most part, the book follows Mole and Water Rat, who serve as stand-ins for middle-class English country gentlemen. The pair spend their days boating on the river, having very English picnic lunches and dinners, hosting poor Christmas carolers, exploring the enticing and dangerous wild wood, and trying to keep the aristocratic Toad from getting into trouble.One thing that is never clear in the book is why Mole and Water Rat are middle class, why Toad is wealthy, and why Badger is working class, although they all clearly are. The Otter family and the field mouse carolers seems to be poor as well,and the weasels and stoats are essentially poverty-stricken ruffians. No one seems to do any work in the animal worls, so it is unclear why the field mice are poor, while Mole is comfortable enough to have them all in for a bite to eat when they knock at his door. It is a mystery how Toad is able to afford the multiple cars he purchases (and wrecks) in the story. This bit of English class structure, while giving an interesting window on the state of the world in Grahame's era, makes the book more than a little dated, and probably not particularly approachable for a young reader today.For the most part, the four friends putter around doing more or less mundane things - the biggest excitement in the first half of the book is when Mole and Water Rat find and return one of the Otter children who had gotten lost. The actual adventures, such as they are, of the quartet are heavily driven by Toad and what appear to be his attempts to stave off the boredom that comes with being wealthy and idle. He steals a car, gets thrown in jail, escapes, and finds his home taken over by ruffians (Stoats and Weasels), whereupon the four friends arm themselves with clubs, pistols, and swords, and toss the trespassers out. They, of course, immediately plan a party to celebrate.The book is mostly noteworthy for its love of country living, and the unspoiled, but tamed English countryside (the river dwellers being carefully distinguished from those that live in "the wild wood"). In some ways, Grahame is a predecessor of Tolkien, wishing that a pastoral way of life would persist and not be overcome by industiralization and a breaking down of class barriers.On the whole, the book is fun, even if the doings of the protagonists range from the merely trivial to the criminal, and probably worth giving to a child to read, but I would not consider this to have the "must read" status that it has been accorded.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5When I was in the 3rd grade I chose this book for the diorama assignment.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Perhaps this is one of the books you either love (which I do) or can leave. Charming creatures, true friendship, mostly harmless adventure where all is well that ends well for those most deserving. The lessons of life captured here are as real as any among humans while spinning "tails" of lives we can never experience. Lovely fantasy and a pleasure to read aloud to children.I recently enjoyed this again just for myself on my kindle. I highly recommend this to anyone wishing to escape to simpler times when tea by a fire or a picnic by the river watching the clouds pass by is a pleasure you seek.The adventures of Toad are a bit more exciting.Truly a classic tale somewhere between Thornton Burgess and Beatrix Potter.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Though easily read by the young, this book should be just as relevant for adults. I cannot say it better than A. A. Milne: "One does not argue about The Wind in the Willows...The book is a test of character. We cannot criticize it, because it is criticizing us...a book which is read aloud to every new guest and is regarded as the touchstone of his worth."
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Ok, second attempt at a review after the damn interwebs ate my last one. Luckily I’m composing this one offline first.
To me Kenneth Grahame’s _The Wind in the Willows_ is a particularly fine novel. It’s a children’s story and normally that would get my back up. I’m generally not a big fan of children’s lit or YA, and to add to this I didn’t even read this book as a child and thus have the requisite rose-coloured glasses to lend credence to my love for the story. Somehow, however, this tale of the adventures of four animal friends in an idealized and idyllic Edwardian English countryside resonated deeply with me. I think part of this has to do with the deft hand Grahame shows in the creation of his characters: shy amiable Mole, courageous and resolute Ratty (that’s Water Rat by the bye), gruff but stalwart Badger and, last but certainly not least, frivolous and vain Toad, all partake of elements of archetype and yet are never fully defined by it, they manage to emerge as characters in their own right. The setting too seems to straddle the line between generic and specific. The animal friends are constantly travelling against a background whose very names are emblematic: the River, the Wildwood, the Town and yet when we come to their homes we could not wish to find more congenial or personal places of the heart.
Our tale (or perhaps I should say tales) begins as the shy Mole first pokes his nose out from his underground home to be presented with a newly discovered wider world he approaches with awe and wonder. I wouldn’t quite say that Mole is the main character of the stories that follow (though he is always a significant part of them), but I’ve always had a soft spot for him and enjoy seeing Grahame’s idealized English meadows, woods and countryside through his amiable eyes. Toad would probably be the more likely candidate, certainly for a good portion of the stories which concentrate on his adventures: a life-loving jester of a character with more money than brains always looking out for the next fad that is of course the fulfillment of his true heart’s desire…yet again. Indeed, keeping tabs on their friend and trying to hammer some good animal sense into his soft head is one of the major tasks the other characters must undertake in many of these tales. Grahame’s pacing is excellent, at times meandering with a leisurely pace from a boating foray on the River to spring-cleaning a much-loved home, and at others moving at breakneck speed to escape from prison or reclaim an ancestral home from dangerous enemies. Thus we follow our friends as they learn about their world and each other and I cannot say that there are many more enjoyable companions to be had for such a venture.
I’ve seen arguments online that these stories are somewhat parochial and insular: whenever the world outside of the hedgerows intrudes it is usually either a dangerous temptation or a destructive force. I can’t really argue with this, but does all literature need to celebrate the novel and the strange? Isn’t there a place for the well-loved hearth and a joyous homecoming? _The Wind in the Willows_ is nothing if not a celebration of the comfortable and the familiar, a paen for a world and a type of beauty fading away. There may be good reasons for why it had to die out, but I would argue that there is still value in remembering it. When I try to put my finger on what it is about this book that so captures my imagination and elevates it from being merely a tale about talking animals within the context of a long-dead worldview I think that Christopher Milne, son of the author of _Winnie the Pooh_, may have said it best when he talked of “those chapters that explore human emotions – the emotions of fear, nostalgia, awe, wanderlust.” It is these parts of the book that speak directly to my heart and examine the wider aspects of the human spirit. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was my first time reading Wind in the Willows, although I was aware of the stories having seen different cartoon adaptations. I wish I had read this book first as a child, but the fact that this was my first reading did not make it any less enjoyable. I love all the characters, their distinct personalities and their strong friendships. The stories are varied and the lessons timeless. The characters spend quiet time in conversation, sharing meals, and taking tranquil walks along the river, they take part in boating adventures, heroic takeovers and some even resort to car-theft and gaol breakouts. I think my favorite story is Dulce Domum, where Mole realizes the joys of hearth and home. In Wayfarers All, we see a a reflection of the author himself in Rat, who is siezed by thoughts of adventure in foreign lands. Mole talks some sense into Rat and calms him down by suggesting he write some poetry, giving him a pencil - "the Rat was absorbed and deaf to the world; alternately scribbling and sucking the top of his pencil. It is true that he sucked a good deal more than he scribbled; but it was joy to the Mole to know that the cure had at least begun." Read this book if you've never read it as a child, or even if you have, read it again. The stories have a lot to offer for all ages and you are sure to come away with a different perspective as an adult.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I suppose I was in the mood for this book, but it was a sheer delight and it immediately became a favorite book. My copy has an introduction and afterword, as well as a brief author bio written by Jane Yolen which I really appreciated. We only have a small cast of central characters here, a mole, a water rat, a badger and a toad, 'Mr. Toad'. I adore Mole and Ratty. I found myself loving every one of them, maybe even Mr. Toad. This is a children's book for grown-ups as well as mid aged kids. When I got to chapter 7, titled "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn" my mouth dropped open. My copy only has a few illustrations in it - lovely black and white drawings, and the artist is not credited, although I think I deciphered the name Zimic. Then I decided that artist Tricia Zimic created the delightful cover illustration as well as the interior pen and ink drawings.I much more partial to the early half of the book, the rather nostalgic, pastoral adventures of Mole, Rat and Badger as well as the Piper piece in the middle. As Jane Yolen notes, this is really three sorts of stories in one book.
- Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5
Five out of ten.
Finding the secret of the wind is hard enough without Mole wandering off into the Wild Wood and getting caught in a snowstorm or Toad stealing motorcars and landing in jail. Between practical Water Rat and wise old Badger, the four of them manage, after many great adventures and much laughter, to settle down to a quiet roar with an understanding of the wind's song and the Wild Wood.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This actually isn't the edition I read,which cancels the reasons for writing a review. I loved the line drawings, done by a recent modern artist. I can't find the cover--it was a large format-- but so many of the other editions and art seem very charming, so what the hey. Whatever you buy or read will probably work out just fine.A very nice book, a classic, for small children and then when they can read, they will enjoy going back and reading it themselves. Older kids reading it a first time? Yeah, I can see many wouldn't like it. I think the attraction for young children, rather like the Borrowers, is the cozy underground homes with furniture and tea and toast. Animals rowing boats. At, of 4 or 5, it just still seems possible. And Ratty and Mole: best buddies, never too harsh with the other's fears or failings. These are important feelings and uh messages.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Recently read this to my 5 year old and the Language is Just Beautiful. Although they're always calling each other "asses", which in UK English, any parent has trouble reading aloud to their kid, but it's just lovely.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Five reasons why I love Wind in the Willows1. Playfulness: It’s pure delight when Mole decides to drop his spring cleaning and begin to enjoy a day of rest and play and leisure in the company of his new found friend, Ratty. Grahame reminds us of this essential part of “human” life, remember to take time of to enjoy life and rest and have fun. 2. True friendship: This is specially seen in the way they have patience with the silly conceited Toad and keep rescuing him and save him from himself. As William Horwood writes in the preface: “Kindness is at the very heart of “The Wind in the Willows”, the kindness that makes one character put the interests and needs of another first. For these are not characters out to gain advantage over each other.”3. Sweet Home (Dulce Domum): The scene where Mole feel homesickness and they decide to find his place and he invites Ratty in to his humble dwellings is priceless. Even the caroling field mice have a feast there. It reminds me of this essential breathing space - a home where meals unite family and friends - an almost holy place where we find renewed energy. 4. Transcendence: How to interprete the chapter “The Piper at the Gates of Dawn”? The mysterious Friend, nature god Pan, this awe and reverence in the presence of something transcendent - the feeling of both joy and sadness. It’s just a miracle. 5. Poetic nature: Grahames poetic descriptions of nature is remarkable. You just feel a desire to experience it all in its fullness. The wind, the grass, the sun, the snow, the river bank.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5One of my favorites and enjoyed again as an adult. The most beautiful prose and lyrical descriptions are to be had in this book. The animals remind us of people we know! Descriptions of the joys of home and hearth bring much enjoyment to the reader. Adventures of these whimsical animals keep the reader wanting to go and find out the endings.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5this work took some getting used to... Once I "learned the rules," I found myself enjoying the lyrical prose. This is certainly a well written series of stories, but they are a little strange.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5As the introduction (written back in the 80s by Grahame biographer Peter Green) rightly identifies, although Mr. Toad made The Wind in the Willows famous, his action packed adventures are the least evocative and I’d go further to say he’s the least interesting of the characters. The best chapter, Dulce Domum, in which Mole desperately seeks to return to his own home despite its humbleness is an intoxicatingly emotional description of the inescapable connection most of us have to our own familiar four walls however else we might imagine they seem to others (and nearly had me in tears by the time the carol singers arrived). The loyalty between Ratty and Mole is also especially touching, not unlike that between Sherlock and Watson, the former often riding roughshod of the latter’s feelings until he realises he’s gone too far, guilt sets in and he shambles about making amends.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Wind in the Willows is an odd book in that it is meant for children yet has chapter titles such as "Dulce Domum", "Like Summer Tempests Came His Tears", "The Return of Ulysses" and most famously "The Piper at the Gates of Dawn". Some of these chapters are stand alone with only a few threads of plot to interconnect them. In fact there is very little plot as the book is about friendship and maintaining the status quo. It's a very conservative book. I read it last forty years ago and can remember as a child being confused but somehow affected by The Piper at the Gates of Dawn chapter. Reading it as an adult, it is clearly the best part of the book. Still dislike Toad though.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was read out loud over the course of a month, so quite a bit different than my usual reading experiences. Even with the protracted reading, there was no difficulty following the thread of this classic's storyline. The chapters typically serve as mini-stories (much like Winnie the Pooh).As for the actual work, I think my review needs to be different than my usual too. I can't think of any other way to describe it except by comparing it to food. More contemporary books to me seem like there's a build-up chapter after chapter, much like a meal with multiple courses. Wind in the Willows is more like a really good stew. It starts off delicious and by the end of the book, there's still that flavor and richness that you enjoyed from the start.It's been a long time since I've encountered many of the words I found in this book and it was nice to exercise my vocabulary a little bit.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Unfortunately, I never got the opportunity to read this classic work as an older child, but I do see it as more an older piece of children's literature that needs to be preserved and kept open for youth (even if it is dry or hard for them to understand the humor).I absolutely loved reading this book. It was so good I got goosebumps when it ended. I plan on reading the spin-off series and seeing what sort of links and take offs there are. My favorite character in this book was Rat, because he was responsible and doing the right thing in the benefit of Mole. I saw him really always genuine when he was thinking about Toad and his friends. He put everyone else first and himself last. In my opinion, it was Rat's doing that made this that made this book wrapped in a timeless and unconditional friendship... not only cute and hilarious, but rightly achieved.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book is classics.A various character like the Mole, the Water Rat, the toad, and badger. When The Toad get interested in the motor car, various things happens... There were many animal characters, but I irritated Toad sometime for his boast.The end of story, his character problem is solved, so I felt relieved.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Charming. I can't believe I didn't read this as a kid, but I'm kind of glad I didn't...not often you come across a book that you "wish you could read again for the first time," and it IS the first time you've read it! Mr. Badger is my new hero.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This was required reading in my house. Not a day went by when someone didn't refer to dear Ratty, or Toad Hall. I had 3 copies by the time I was ten.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I'm sure I've read this book as a child, but thanks to my faulty memory, I couldn't say for sure. What's certain is I didn't expect I'd be as surprised by this old classic as I was. I was expecting a quiet pastoral affair with plenty of cute little animals cavorting about, and was almost shocked when the story deviated from the script, which up till a certain point included pleasant trips boating up and down a river and visits between friends Mole, River Rat, Toad, Badger and Otter, and what could have been a scary trip into the woods, had I been a young child. But then, WHAM! Toad getting arrested and sent to jail and the great escape that ensues complete with train chase, all this involving a whole slew of human beings who don't seem to find it the least bit strange that a toad should have stolen a car and driven recklessly, or been mistaken for a washerwoman once having donned the clothing of one such person, well... I never thought this innocent book would shake me up as much as it did. Blame it on the fact that I was sleepy and expecting a variation on Beatrix Potter maybe? But now I think of it, is Beatrix Potter anything like what I think I remember? I'm almost scared to find out!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I've known the story of The Wind In The Willows forever, one of those things that seeps in in the time before memory begins, but on the other hand I have no memory of ever having read the book.And it is wonderful.Warm and clever and lovely, and touched by some sort of magic.It's all the little things like Mole feeling so much more at home in Badger's sett, because he's an underground animal at heart, but loving the river enough to forego that. And Ratty being lovely, and kind and ... Ratty is my favourite. And, it must be said, has been since I was wee.Completely and utterly worth reading, no matter how old you are.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I remember my mom reading this to me when I was young. Brings back such great memories. I picked it up for 40 cents in a second hand store and what a treasure. Best money I have spent in a long time.
Book preview
The Wind in the Willows (Illustrated by Nancy Barnhart) - Kenneth Grahame
The Wind in the Willows
By Kenneth Grahame
Illustrated by Nancy Barnhart
Print ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5180-6
eBook ISBN 13: 978-1-4209-5181-3
This edition copyright © 2015. Digireads.com Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Cover Image: A detail of the frontispiece illustration to the Methuen & co., ltd., London, 1922 edition by Nancy Barnhart.
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CONTENTS
Chapter I. The River Bank
Chapter II. The Open Road
Chapter III. The Wild Wood
Chapter IV. Mr. Badger
Chapter V. Dulce Domum
Chapter VI. Mr. Toad
Chapter VII. The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
Chapter VIII. Toad’s Adventures
Chapter IX. Wayfarers All
Chapter X. The Further Adventures of Toad
Chapter XI. ‘Like Summer Tempests Came His Tears’
Chapter XII. The Return of Ulysses
BIOGRAPHICAL AFTERWORD
NOTE TO THE ILLUSTRATIONS
The illustrations in this edition by Nancy Barnhart originally appeared in the 1922 edition published by Methuen & co., ltd. London. They are reproduced in grayscale in the paperback and in color in the electronic edition.
img2.jpgOUT ON THE LAWN, ROARING WITH LAUGHTER
Chapter I. The River Bank
The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said ‘Bother!’ and ‘O blow!’ and also ‘Hang spring-cleaning!’ and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously, and he made for the steep little tunnel which answered in his case to the graveled carriage-drive owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, ‘Up we go! Up we go!’ till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow.
‘This is fine!’ he said to himself. ‘This is better than whitewashing!’ The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion of the cellarage he had lived in so long the carol of happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side.
‘Hold up!’ said an elderly rabbit at the gap. ‘Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!’ He was bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. ‘Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!’ he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. ‘How stupid you are! Why didn’t you tell him—’ ‘Well, why didn’t you say—’ ‘You might have reminded him—’ and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then much too late, as is always the case.
It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him and whispering ‘whitewash!’ he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to be the only idle dog among all these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.
He thought his happiness was complete when, as he meandered aimlessly along, suddenly he stood by the edge of a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before—this sleek, sinuous, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on fresh playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiver—glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble. The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spell-bound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea.
As he sat on the grass and looked across the river, a dark hole in the bank opposite, just above the water’s edge, caught his eye, and dreamily he fell to considering what a nice snug dwelling-place it would make for an animal with few wants and fond of a bijou riverside residence, above flood level and remote from noise and dust. As he gazed, something bright and small seemed to twinkle down in the heart of it, vanished, then twinkled once more like a tiny star. But it could hardly be a star in such an unlikely situation; and it was too glittering and small for a glow-worm. Then, as he looked, it winked at him, and so declared itself to be an eye; and a small face began gradually to grow up round it, like a frame round a picture.
A brown little face, with whiskers.
A grave round face, with the same twinkle in its eye that had first attracted his notice.
Small neat ears and thick silky hair.
It was the Water Rat!
Then the two animals stood and regarded each other cautiously.
‘Hullo, Mole!’ said the Water Rat.
‘Hullo, Rat!’ said the Mole.
‘Would you like to come over?’ enquired the Rat presently.
‘Oh, its all very well to talk,’ said the Mole, rather pettishly, he being new to a river and riverside life and its ways.
The Rat said nothing, but stooped and unfastened a rope and hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little boat which the Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for two animals; and the Mole’s whole heart went out to it at once, even though he did not yet fully understand its uses.
The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up his forepaw as the Mole stepped gingerly down. ‘Lean on that!’ he said. ‘Now then, step lively!’ and the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself actually seated in the stern of a real boat.
‘This has been a wonderful day!’ said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. ‘Do you know, I’ve never been in a boat before in all my life.’
‘What?’ cried the Rat, open-mouthed: ‘Never been in a—you never—well I—what have you been doing, then?’
‘Is it so nice as all that?’ asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.
‘Nice? It’s the only thing,’ said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. ‘Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolute nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,’ he went on dreamily: ‘messing—about—in—boats; messing—’
‘Look ahead, Rat!’ cried the Mole suddenly.
It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt. The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air.
‘—about in boats—or with boats,’ the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. ‘In or out of ’em, it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that’s the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don’t; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you’re always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you’ve done it there’s always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you’d much better not. Look here! If you’ve really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop down the river together, and have a long day of it?’
The Mole waggled his toes from sheer happiness, spread his chest with a sigh of full contentment, and leaned back blissfully into the soft cushions. ‘What a day I’m having!’ he said. ‘Let us start at once!’
‘Hold hard a minute, then!’ said the Rat. He looped the painter through a ring in his landing-stage, climbed up into his hole above, and after a short interval reappeared staggering under a fat, wicker luncheon-basket.
‘Shove that under your feet,’ he observed to the Mole, as he passed it down into the boat. Then he untied the painter and took the sculls again.
‘What’s inside it?’ asked the Mole, wriggling with curiosity.
‘There’s cold chicken inside it,’ replied the Rat briefly;
‘coldtonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinssaladfrenchrollscresssandwichespotted-meatgingerbeerlemonadesodawater—’
‘O stop, stop,’ cried the Mole in ecstasies: ‘This is too much!’
‘Do you really think so?’ enquired the Rat seriously. ‘It’s only what I always take on these little excursions; and the other animals are always telling me that I’m a mean beast and cut it very fine!’
The Mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight, he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams. The Water Rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily on and forebore to disturb him.
‘I like your clothes awfully, old chap,’ he remarked after some half an hour or so had passed. ‘I’m going to get a black velvet smoking-suit myself some day, as soon as I can afford it.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ said the Mole, pulling himself together with an effort. ‘You must think me very rude; but all this is so new to me. So—this—is—a—River!’
‘The River,’ corrected the Rat.
‘And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!’
‘By it and with it and on it and in it,’ said the Rat. ‘It’s brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It’s my world, and I don’t want any other. What it hasn’t got is not worth having, and what it doesn’t know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we’ve had together! Whether in winter or summer, spring or autumn, it’s always got its fun and its excitements. When the floods are on in February, and my cellars and basement are brimming with drink that’s no good to me, and the brown water runs by my best bedroom window; or again when it all drops away and, shows patches of mud that smells like plum-cake, and the rushes and weed clog the channels, and I can potter about dry shod over most of the bed of it and find fresh food to eat, and things careless people have dropped out of boats!’
‘But isn’t it a bit dull at times?’ the Mole ventured to ask. ‘Just you and the river, and no one else to pass a word with?’
‘No one else to—well, I mustn’t be hard on you,’ said the Rat with forbearance. ‘You’re new to it, and of course you don’t know. The bank is so crowded nowadays that many people are moving away altogether: O no, it isn’t what it used to be, at all. Otters, kingfishers, dabchicks, moorhens, all of them about all day long and always wanting you to do something—as if a fellow had no business of his own to attend to!’
‘What lies over there’ asked the Mole, waving a paw towards a background of woodland that darkly framed the water-meadows on one side of the river.
‘That? O, that’s just the Wild Wood,’ said the Rat shortly. ‘We don’t go there very much, we river-bankers.’
‘Aren’t they—aren’t they very nice people in there?’ said the Mole, a trifle nervously.
‘W-e-ll,’ replied the Rat, ‘let me see. The squirrels are all right. And the rabbits—some of ’em, but rabbits are a mixed lot. And then there’s Badger, of course. He lives right in the heart of it; wouldn’t live anywhere else, either, if you paid him to do it. Dear old Badger! Nobody interferes with him. They’d better not,’ he added significantly.
‘Why, who should interfere with him?’ asked the Mole.
‘Well, of course—there—are others,’ explained the Rat in a hesitating sort of way.
‘Weasels—and stoats—and foxes—and so on. They’re all right in a way—I’m very good friends with them—pass the time of day when we meet, and all that—but they break out sometimes, there’s no denying it, and then—well, you can’t really trust them, and that’s the fact.’
The Mole knew well that it is quite against animal-etiquette to dwell on possible trouble ahead, or even to allude to it; so he dropped the subject.
‘And beyond the Wild Wood again?’ he asked: ‘Where it’s all blue and dim, and one sees what may be hills or perhaps they mayn’t, and something like the smoke of towns, or is it only cloud-drift?’
‘Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wide World,’ said the Rat. ‘And that’s something that doesn’t matter, either to you or me. I’ve never been there, and I’m never going, nor you either, if you’ve got any sense at all. Don’t ever refer to it again, please. Now then! Here’s our backwater at last, where we’re going to lunch.’
Leaving the main stream, they now passed into what seemed at first sight like a little land-locked lake. Green turf sloped down to either edge, brown snaky tree-roots gleamed below the surface of the quiet water, while ahead of them the silvery shoulder and foamy tumble of a weir, arm-in-arm with a restless dripping mill-wheel, that held up in its turn a grey-gabled mill-house, filled the air with a soothing murmur of sound, dull and smothery, yet with little clear voices speaking up cheerfully out of it at intervals. It was so very beautiful that the Mole could only hold up both forepaws and gasp, ‘O my! O my! O my!’
The Rat brought the boat alongside the bank, made her fast, helped the still awkward Mole safely ashore, and swung out the luncheon-basket. The Mole begged as a favor to be allowed to unpack it all by himself; and the Rat was very pleased to indulge him, and to sprawl at full length on the grass and rest, while his excited friend shook out the table-cloth and spread it, took out all the mysterious packets one by one and arranged their contents in due order, still gasping, ‘O my! O my!’ at each fresh revelation. When all was ready, the Rat said, ‘Now, pitch in, old fellow!’ and the Mole was indeed very glad to obey, for he had started his spring-cleaning at a very early hour that morning, as people will do, and had not paused for bite or sup; and he had been through a very great deal since that distant time which now seemed so many days ago.
‘What are you looking at?’ said the Rat presently, when the edge of their hunger was somewhat dulled, and the Mole’s eyes were able to wander off the table-cloth a little.
‘I am looking,’ said the Mole, ‘at a streak of bubbles that I see traveling along the surface of the water. That is a thing that strikes me as funny.’
‘Bubbles? Oho!’ said the Rat, and chirruped cheerily in an inviting sort of way.
A broad glistening muzzle showed itself above the edge of the bank, and the Otter hauled himself out and shook the water from his coat.
‘Greedy beggars!’ he observed, making for the provender. ‘Why didn’t you invite me, Ratty?’
‘This was an impromptu affair,’ explained the Rat. ‘By the way—my friend Mr. Mole.’
‘Proud, I’m sure,’ said the Otter, and the two animals were friends forthwith.
‘Such a rumpus everywhere!’ continued the Otter. ‘All the world seems out on the river to-day. I came up this backwater to try and get a moment’s peace, and then stumble upon you fellows!—At least—I beg pardon—I don’t exactly mean that, you know.’
There was a rustle behind them, proceeding from a hedge wherein last year’s leaves still clung thick, and a stripy head, with high shoulders behind it, peered forth on them.
‘Come on, old Badger!’ shouted the Rat.
The Badger trotted forward a pace or two; then grunted, ‘H’m! Company,’ and turned his back and disappeared from view.
‘That’s just the sort of fellow he is!’ observed the disappointed Rat. ‘Simply hates Society! Now we shan’t see any more of him to-day. Well, tell us, who’s out on the river?’
‘Toad’s out, for one,’ replied the Otter. ‘In his brand-new wager-boat; new togs, new everything!’
The two animals looked at