The Badger went through a bit of hard thinking. `Now look here!'
he said at last, rather severely; `of course you know I can't do

anything NOW?'
His two friends assented, quite understanding his point. No

animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever
expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately

active during the off-season of winter. All are sleepy--some
actually asleep. All are weather-bound, more or less; and all

are resting from arduous days and nights, during which every
muscle in them has been severely tested, and every energy kept at

full stretch.
`Very well then!' continued the Badger. `BUT, when once the

year has really turned, and the nights are shorter, and halfway
through them one rouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up

and doing by sunrise, if not before--YOU know!----'
Both animals nodded gravely. THEY knew!

`Well, THEN,' went on the Badger, `we--that is, you and me and
our friend the Mole here--we'll take Toad seriously in hand.

We'll stand no nonsensewhatever. We'll bring him back to
reason, by force if need be. We'll MAKE him be a sensible

Toad. We'll--you're asleep, Rat!'
`Not me!' said the Rat, waking up with a jerk.

`He's been asleep two or three times since supper,' said the
Mole, laughing. He himself was feeling quite wakeful and even

lively, though he didn't know why. The reason was, of course,
that he being naturally an underground animal by birth and

breeding, the situation of Badger's house exactly suited him and
made him feel at home; while the Rat, who slept every night in a

bedroom the windows of which opened on a breezy river, naturally
felt the atmosphere still and oppressive.

`Well, it's time we were all in bed,' said the Badger, getting up
and fetching flat candlesticks. `Come along, you two, and I'll

show you your quarters. And take your time tomorrow morning--
breakfast at any hour you please!'

He conducted the two animals to a long room that seemed half
bedchamber and half loft. The Badger's winter stores, which

indeed were visible everywhere, took up half the room--piles
of apples, turnips, and potatoes, baskets full of nuts, and jars

of honey; but the two little white beds on the remainder of the
floor looked soft and inviting, and the linen on them, though

coarse, was clean and smelt beautifully of lavender; and the Mole
and the Water Rat, shaking off their garments in some thirty

seconds, tumbled in between the sheets in great joy and
contentment.

In accordance with the kindly Badger's injunctions, the two tired
animals came down to breakfast very late next morning, and found

a bright fire burning in the kitchen, and two young hedgehogs
sitting on a bench at the table, eating oatmeal porridge out of

wooden bowls. The hedgehogs dropped their spoons, rose to their
feet, and ducked their heads respectfully" target="_blank" title="ad.恭敬地">respectfully as the two entered.

`There, sit down, sit down,' said the Rat pleasantly, `and go on
with your porridge. Where have you youngsters come from? Lost

your way in the snow, I suppose?'
`Yes, please, sir,' said the elder of the two hedgehogs

respectfully" target="_blank" title="ad.恭敬地">respectfully. `Me and little Billy here, we was trying to find
our way to school--mother WOULD have us go, was the

weather ever so--and of course we lost ourselves, sir, and Billy
he got frightened and took and cried, being young and faint-

hearted. And at last we happened up against Mr. Badger's back
door, and made so bold as to knock, sir, for Mr. Badger he's a

kind-hearted gentleman, as everyone knows----'
`I understand,' said the Rat, cutting himself some rashers from a

side of bacon, while the Mole dropped some eggs into a saucepan.
`And what's the weather like outside? You needn't "sir" me quite

so much?' he added.
`O, terrible bad, sir, terrible deep the snow is,' said the

hedgehog. `No getting out for the likes of you gentlemen to-
day.'

`Where's Mr. Badger?' inquired the Mole, as he warmed the coffee-
pot before the fire.

`The master's gone into his study, sir,' replied the hedgehog,
`and he said as how he was going to be particular busy this

morning, and on no account was he to be disturbed.'
This explanation, of course, was thoroughly understood by every

one present. The fact is, as already set forth, when you live a
life of intense activity for six months in the year, and of

comparative or actual somnolence for the other six, during the
latter period you cannot be continually pleading sleepiness when

there are people about or things to be done. The excuse gets
monotonous. The animals well knew that Badger, having eaten a

hearty breakfast, had retired to his study and settled himself in
an arm-chair with his legs up on another and a red cotton

handkerchief over his face, and was being `busy' in the usual way
at this time of the year.

The front-door bell clanged loudly, and the Rat, who was very
greasy with buttered toast, sent Billy, the smaller hedgehog, to

see who it might be. There was a sound of much stamping in the
hall, and presently Billy returned in front of the Otter, who

threw himself on the Rat with an embrace and a shout of
affectionate greeting.

`Get off!' spluttered the Rat, with his mouth full.
`Thought I should find you here all right,' said the Otter

cheerfully. `They were all in a great state of alarm along River
Bank when I arrived this morning. Rat never been home all

night--nor Mole either--something dreadful must have
happened, they said; and the snow had covered up all your tracks,

of course. But I knew that when people were in any fix they
mostly went to Badger, or else Badger got to know of it somehow,

so I came straight off here, through the Wild Wood and the snow!
My! it was fine, coming through the snow as the red sun was

rising and showing against the black tree-trunks! As you went
along in the stillness, every now and then masses of snow slid

off the branches suddenly with a flop! making you jump and run
for cover. Snow-castles and snow-caverns had sprung up out of

nowhere in the night--and snow bridges, terraces, ramparts--I
could have stayed and played with them for hours. Here and there

great branches had been torn away by the sheer weight of the
snow, and robins perched and hopped on them in their perky

conceited way, just as if they had done it themselves. A ragged
string of wild geese passed overhead, high on the grey sky, and a

few rooks whirled over the trees, inspected, and flapped off
homewards with a disgusted expression; but I met no sensible

being to ask the news of. About halfway across I came on a
rabbit sitting on a stump, cleaning his silly face with his

paws. He was a pretty scared animal when I crept up behind him
and placed a heavy forepaw on his shoulder. I had to cuff his

head once or twice to get any sense out of it at all. At last I
managed to extract from him that Mole had been seen in the Wild

Wood last night by one of them. It was the talk of the burrows,
he said, how Mole, Mr. Rat's particular friend, was in a bad fix;

how he had lost his way, and "They" were up and out hunting, and
were chivvying him round and round. "Then why didn't any of you

DO something?" I asked. "You mayn't be blest with brains, but
there are hundreds and hundreds of you, big, stout fellows, as

fat as butter, and your burrows running in all directions, and
you could have taken him in and made him safe and comfortable, or