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" target="_blank" title="ad.完全地,彻底地">
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
humblyupstairs 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,
dwellingchiefly 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" target="_blank" title="ad.完全地,彻底地">
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,