friends outside in their innocent mirth, oblivious of me and my
cares and toils. I sacrifice this fair morning on the altar of

duty and friendship!'
The Badger looked at him very suspiciously, but Toad's frank,

open countenance made it difficult to suggest any unworthy motive
in this change of attitude. He quitted the room, accordingly, in

the direction of the kitchen, and as soon as the door had closed
behind him, Toad hurried to the writing-table. A fine idea had

occurred to him while he was talking. He WOULD write the
invitations; and he would take care to mention the leading part

he had taken in the fight, and how he had laid the Chief Weasel
flat; and he would hint at his adventures, and what a career of

triumph he had to tell about; and on the fly-leaf he would
set out a sort of a programme of entertainment for the evening--

something like this, as he sketched it out in his head:--
SPEECH . . . . BY TOAD.

(There will be other speeches by TOAD during the evening.)
ADDRESS . . . BY TOAD

SYNOPSIS--Our Prison System--the Waterways of Old England--Horse-
dealing, and how to deal--Property, its rights and its duties--

Back to the Land--A Typical English Squire.
SONG . . . . BY TOAD.

(Composed by himself.)
OTHER COMPOSITIONS . BY TOAD

will be sung in the course of the
evening by the . . . COMPOSER.

The idea pleased him mightly, and he worked very hard and got all
the letters finished by noon, at which hour it was reported to

him that there was a small and rather bedraggled weasel at the
door, inquiring timidly whether he could be of any service to the

gentlemen. Toad swaggered out and found it was one of the
prisoners of the previous evening, very respectful and

anxious to please. He patted him on the head, shoved the bundle
of invitations into his paw, and told him to cut along quick and

deliver them as fast as he could, and if he liked to come back
again in the evening, perhaps there might be a shilling for him,

or, again, perhaps there mightn't; and the poor weasel seemed
really quite grateful, and hurried off eagerly to do his mission.

When the other animals came back to luncheon, very boisterous and
breezy after a morning on the river, the Mole, whose conscience

had been pricking him, looked doubtfully at Toad, expecting to
find him sulky or depressed. Instead, he was so uppish and

inflated that the Mole began to suspect something; while the Rat
and the Badger exchanged significant glances.

As soon as the meal was over, Toad thrust his paws deep into his
trouser-pockets, remarked casually, `Well, look after yourselves,

you fellows! Ask for anything you want!' and was swaggering off
in the direction of the garden, where he wanted to think out an

idea or two for his coming speeches, when the Rat caught him by
the arm.

Toad rather suspected what he was after, and did his best to get
away; but when the Badger took him firmly by the other arm he

began to see that the game was up. The two animals conducted him
between them into the small smoking-room that opened out of the

entrance-hall, shut the door, and put him into a chair. Then
they both stood in front of him, while Toad sat silent and

regarded them with much suspicion and ill-humour.
`Now, look here, Toad,' said the Rat. `It's about this Banquet,

and very sorry I am to have to speak to you like this. But we
want you to understand clearly, once and for all, that there are

going to be no speeches and no songs. Try and grasp the fact
that on this occasion we're not arguing with you; we're just

telling you.'
Toad saw that he was trapped. They understood him, they saw

through him, they had got ahead of him. His pleasant dream was
shattered.

`Mayn't I sing them just one LITTLE song?' he pleaded
piteously.

`No, not ONE little song,' replied the Rat firmly, though his
heart bled as he noticed the trembling lip of the poor

disappointed Toad. `It's no good, Toady; you know well that your
songs are all conceit and boasting and vanity; and your speeches

are all self-praise and--and--well, and gross exaggeration and--
and----'

`And gas,' put in the Badger, in his common way.
`It's for your own good, Toady,' went on the Rat. `You know you

MUST turn over a new leaf sooner or later, and now seems a
splendid time to begin; a sort of turning-point in your career.

Please don't think that saying all this doesn't hurt me more than
it hurts you.'

Toad remained a long while plunged in thought. At last he raised
his head, and the traces of strong emotion were visible on his

features. `You have conquered, my friends,' he said in broken
accents. `It was, to be sure, but a small thing that I asked--

merely leave to blossom and expand for yet one more evening, to
let myself go and hear the tumultuous applause that always seems

to me--somehow--to bring out my best qualities. However, you are
right, I know, and I am wrong. Hence forth I will be a very

different Toad. My friends, you shall never have occasion to
blush for me again. But, O dear, O dear, this is a hard

world!'
And, pressing his handkerchief to his face, he left the room,

with faltering footsteps.
`Badger,' said the Rat, `_I_ feel like a brute; I wonder what

YOU feel like?'
`O, I know, I know,' said the Badger gloomily. `But the thing

had to be done. This good fellow has got to live here, and hold
his own, and be respected. Would you have him a common laughing-

stock, mocked and jeered at by stoats and weasels?'
`Of course not,' said the Rat. `And, talking of weasels, it's

lucky we came upon that little weasel, just as he was setting out
with Toad's invitations. I suspected something from what you

told me, and had a look at one or two; they were simply
disgraceful. I confiscated the lot, and the good Mole is now

sitting in the blue boudoir, filling up plain, simple
invitation cards.'

* * * * *
At last the hour for the banquet began to draw near, and Toad,

who on leaving the others had retired to his bedroom, was still
sitting there, melancholy and thoughtful. His brow resting

on his paw, he pondered long and deeply. Gradually his
countenance cleared, and he began to smile long, slow smiles.

Then he took to giggling in a shy, self-conscious manner. At
last he got up, locked the door, drew the curtains across the

windows, collected all the chairs in the room and arranged them
in a semicircle, and took up his position in front of them,

swelling visibly. Then he bowed, coughed twice, and, letting
himself go, with uplifted voice he sang, to the enraptured

audience that his imagination so clearly saw,
TOAD'S LAST LITTLE SONG!

The Toad--came--home!
There was panic in the parlours and bowling in the halls,

There was crying in the cow-sheds and shrieking in the stalls,
When the Toad--came--home!

When the Toad--came--home!
There was smashing in of window and crashing in of door,

There was chivvying of weasels that fainted on the floor,