home life, and then he became simply lyrical.
By degrees the Rat began to sit up and to join in. His dull eye
brightened, and he lost some of his listening air.
Presently the tactful Mole slipped away and returned with a
pencil and a few half-sheets of paper, which he placed on the
table at his friend's elbow.
`It's quite a long time since you did any poetry,' he remarked.
`You might have a try at it this evening, instead of--well,
brooding over things so much. I've an idea that you'll feel
a lot better when you've got something jotted down--if it's only
just the rhymes.'
The Rat pushed the paper away from him
wearily, but the discreet
Mole took occasion to leave the room, and when he peeped in again
some time later, 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.
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOAD
The front door of the hollow tree faced eastwards, so Toad was
called at an early hour;
partly by the bright
sunlight streaming
in on him,
partly by the
exceedingcoldness of his toes, which
made him dream that he was at home in bed in his own handsome
room with the Tudor window, on a cold winter's night, and his
bedclothes had got up, grumbling and protesting they couldn't
stand the cold any longer, and had run
downstairs to the kitchen
fire to warm themselves; and he had followed, on bare feet, along
miles and miles of icy stone-paved passages, arguing and
beseeching them to be
reasonable. He would probably have been
aroused much earlier, had he not slept for some weeks on straw
over stone flags, and almost forgotten the friendly
feeling of thick blankets pulled well up round the chin.
Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes first and his complaining toes
next, wondered for a moment where he was, looking round for
familiar stone wall and little barred window; then, with a leap
of the heart, remembered everything--his escape, his
flight, his
pursuit; remembered, first and best thing of all, that he was
free!
Free! The word and the thought alone were worth fifty blankets.
He was warm from end to end as he thought of the jolly world
outside,
waitingeagerly for him to make his
triumphal entrance,
ready to serve him and play up to him,
anxious to help him and to
keep him company, as it always had been in days of old before
misfortune fell upon him. He shook himself and combed the dry
leaves out of his hair with his fingers; and, his toilet
complete, marched forth into the comfortable morning sun, cold
but
confident, hungry but
hopeful, all
nervous terrors of
yesterday dispelled by rest and sleep and frank and heartening
sunshine.
He had the world all to himself, that early summer morning. The
dewy
woodland, as he threaded it, was
solitary and still: the
green fields that succeeded the trees were his own to do as
he liked with; the road itself, when he reached it, in that
loneliness that was everywhere, seemed, like a stray dog, to be
looking
anxiously for company. Toad, however, was looking for
something that could talk, and tell him clearly which way he
ought to go. It is all very well, when you have a light heart,
and a clear
conscience, and money in your pocket, and nobody
scouring the country for you to drag you off to prison again, to
follow where the road beckons and points, not caring whither.
The practical Toad cared very much indeed, and he could have
kicked the road for its
helpless silence when every minute was of
importance to him.
The reserved
rustic road was
presently joined by a shy little
brother in the shape of a canal, which took its hand and ambled
along by its side in perfect confidence, but with the same
tongue-tied, uncommunicative attitude towards strangers. `Bother
them!' said Toad to himself. `But, anyhow, one thing's clear.
They must both be coming FROM somewhere, and going TO
somewhere. You can't get over that. Toad, my boy!' So he
marched on
patiently by the water's edge.
Round a bend in the canal came plodding a
solitary horse,
stooping forward as if in
anxious thought. From rope traces
attached to his
collar stretched a long line, taut, but dipping
with his
stride, the further part of it dripping pearly drops.
Toad let the horse pass, and stood
waiting for what the fates
were sending him.
With a pleasant swirl of quiet water at its blunt bow the barge
slid up
alongside of him, its gaily painted gunwale level with
the towing-path, its sole
occupant a big stout woman wearing a
linen sun-bonnet, one brawny arm laid along the tiller.
`A nice morning, ma'am!' she remarked to Toad, as she drew up
level with him.
`I dare say it is, ma'am!' responded Toad
politely, as he walked
along the tow-path
abreast of her. `I dare it IS a nice
morning to them that's not in sore trouble, like what I am.
Here's my married daughter, she sends off to me post-haste to
come to her at once; so off I comes, not
knowing what may be
happening or going to happen, but fearing the worst, as you will
understand, ma'am, if you're a mother, too. And I've left my
business to look after itself--I'm in the washing and
laundering line, you must know, ma'am--and I've left my young
children to look after themselves, and a more
mischievous and
troublesome set of young imps doesn't exist, ma'am; and I've lost
all my money, and lost my way, and as for what may be happening
to my married daughter, why, I don't like to think of it, ma'am!'
`Where might your married daughter be living, ma'am?' asked the
barge-woman.
`She lives near to the river, ma'am,' replied Toad. `Close to a
fine house called Toad Hall, that's somewheres hereabouts in
these parts. Perhaps you may have heard of it.'
`Toad Hall? Why, I'm going that way myself,' replied the barge-
woman. `This canal joins the river some miles further on, a
little above Toad Hall; and then it's an easy walk. You come
along in the barge with me, and I'll give you a lift.'
She steered the barge close to the bank, and Toad, with many
humble and
grateful acknowledgments, stepped
lightly on board and
sat down with great
satisfaction. `Toad's luck again!' thought
he. `I always come out on top!'
`So you're in the washing business, ma'am?' said the barge-woman
politely, as they glided along. `And a very good business you've
got too, I dare say, if I'm not making too free in
saying so.'
`Finest business in the whole country,' said Toad airily. `All
the
gentry come to me--wouldn't go to any one else if they were
paid, they know me so well. You see, I understand my work
thoroughly, and attend to it all myself. Washing, ironing,
clear-starching, making up gents' fine shirts for evening wear--
everything's done under my own eye!'
`But surely you don't DO all that work yourself, ma'am?' asked
the barge-woman respectfully.
`O, I have girls,' said Toad
lightly: `twenty girls or
thereabouts, always at work. But you know what GIRLS are,
ma'am! Nasty little hussies, that's what _I_ call 'em!'
`So do I, too,' said the barge-woman with great heartiness. `But
I dare say you set yours to rights, the idle trollops! And are
you very fond of washing?'
`I love it,' said Toad. `I simply dote on it. Never so happy as
when I've got both arms in the wash-tub. But, then, it comes so
easy to me! No trouble at all! A real pleasure, I assure
you, ma'am!'
`What a bit of luck, meeting you!' observed the barge-woman,
thoughtfully. `A regular piece of good fortune for both of us!'
`Why, what do you mean?' asked Toad,
nervously.
`Well, look at me, now,' replied the barge-woman. `_I_ like
washing, too, just the same as you do; and for that matter,
whether I like it or not I have got to do all my own, naturally,
moving about as I do. Now my husband, he's such a fellow for
shirking his work and leaving the barge to me, that never a
moment do I get for
seeing to my own affairs. By rights he ought
to be here now, either steering or attending to the horse, though
luckily the horse has sense enough to attend to himself. Instead
of which, he's gone off with the dog, to see if they can't pick
up a
rabbit for dinner somewhere. Says he'll catch me up at the
next lock. Well, that's as may be--I don't trust him, once he
gets off with that dog, who's worse than he is. But meantime,
how am I to get on with my washing?'
`O, never mind about the washing,' said Toad, not
liking the
subject. `Try and fix your mind on that
rabbit. A nice fat
young
rabbit, I'll be bound. Got any onions?'
`I can't fix my mind on anything but my washing,' said the barge-
woman, `and I wonder you can be talking of
rabbits, with such a
joyful
prospect before you. There's a heap of things of mine
that you'll find in a corner of the cabin. If you'll just take
one or two of the most necessary sort--I won't
venture to
describe them to a lady like you, but you'll recognise them at a
glance--and put them through the wash-tub as we go along, why,
it'll be a pleasure to you, as you
rightly say, and a real help
to me. You'll find a tub handy, and soap, and a
kettle on the
stove, and a
bucket to haul up water from the canal with. Then I
shall know you're enjoying yourself, instead of sitting here
idle, looking at the
scenery and yawning your head off.'
`Here, you let me steer!' said Toad, now
thoroughly frightened,
`and then you can get on with your washing your own way. I might
spoil your things, or not do 'em as you like. I'm more used to
gentlemen's things myself. It's my special line.'
`Let you steer?' replied the barge-woman, laughing. `It takes
some practice to steer a barge
properly. Besides, it's dull
work, and I want you to be happy. No, you shall do the washing
you are so fond of, and I'll stick to the steering that I
understand. Don't try and
deprive me of the pleasure of giving
you a treat!'
Toad was fairly cornered. He looked for escape this way and
that, saw that he was too far from the bank for a flying leap,
and
sullenly resigned himself to his fate. `If it comes to
that,' he thought in
desperation, `I suppose any fool can
WASH!'
He fetched tub, soap, and other necessaries from the cabin,
selected a few garments at
random, tried to
recollect what he had
seen in
casual glances through
laundry windows, and set to.
A long
half-hour passed, and every minute of it saw Toad getting
crosser and crosser. Nothing that he could do to the things
seemed to please them or do them good. He tried coaxing, he
tried slapping, he tried punching; they smiled back at him out of
the tub unconverted, happy in their original sin. Once or twice
he looked
nervously over his shoulder at the barge-woman,
but she appeared to be gazing out in front of her, absorbed in
her steering. His back ached badly, and he noticed with dismay
that his paws were
beginning to get all crinkly. Now Toad was
very proud of his paws. He muttered under his
breath words that
should never pass the lips of either washerwomen or Toads; and
lost the soap, for the fiftieth time.
A burst of
laughter made him
straighten himself and look round.
The barge-woman was leaning back and laughing unrestrainedly,
till the tears ran down her cheeks.
`I've been watching you all the time,' she gasped. `I thought
you must be a humbug all along, from the
conceited way you
talked. Pretty washerwoman you are! Never washed so much as a
dish-clout in your life, I'll lay!'
Toad's
temper which had been simmering viciously for some time,
now fairly boiled over, and he lost all control of himself.
`You common, low, FAT barge-woman!' he shouted; `don't you
dare to talk to your betters like that! Washerwoman indeed! I