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The Wind in the Willows
Illustrated
Kenneth Grahame
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eBook - ePub
The Wind in the Willows
Illustrated
Kenneth Grahame
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Kenneth Grahame's The Wind in the Willows is one of the most popular childrens' books of all times. With the arrival of spring and fine weather outside, the good-natured Mole loses patience with spring cleaning. He flees his underground home, emerging to take in the air and ends up at the river, which he has never seen before. Here he meets new friends like the Water Rat and Mr Toad. Toad is rich, but conceited. His motorcar obsession drives him into big trouble âŠ
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FicciĂłn histĂłricaEditor's note
THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
By Kenneth Grahame
Classics edition, idea bridge
ISBN 9783945909539
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 âBother!â and âO blow!â and also âHang spring-cleaning!â 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 gavelled 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, âUp we go! Up we go!â till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow.
âThis is fine!â he said to himself. âThis is better than whitewashing!â 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.
âHold up!â said an elderly rabbit at the gap. âSixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!â 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. âOnion-sauce! Onion-sauce!â he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. âHow STUPID you are! Why didnât you tell himâââ âWell, why didnât YOU sayâââ âYou might have reminded himâââ 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 thrustingâeverything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him and whispering âwhitewash!â 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 beforeâthis 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-shiverâglints 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 waterâs 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.
âHullo, Mole!â said the Water Rat.
âHullo, Rat!â said the Mole.
âWould you like to come over?â enquired the Rat presently.
âOh, its all very well to TALK,â 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 Moleâs 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. âLean on that!â he said. âNow then, step lively!â and the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself actually seated in the stern of a real boat.
âThis has been a wonderful day!â said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. âDo you know, Iâve never been in a boat before in all my life.â
âWhat?â cried the Rat, open-mouthed: âNever been in aâyou neverâwell Iâwhat have you been doing, then?â
âIs it so nice as all that?â 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.
âNice? Itâs the ONLY thing,â said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. âBelieve me, my young friend, there is NOTHINGâabsolute nothingâhalf so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,â he went on dreamily: âmessingâaboutâinâboats; messingâââ
âLook ahead, Rat!â 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.
ââabout in boatsâor WITH boats,â the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. âIn or out of âem, it doesnât matter. Nothing seems really to matter, thatâs the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you donât; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, youâre always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when youâve done it thereâs always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but youâd much better not. Look here! If youâve really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop down the river together, and have a long day of it?â
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. âWHAT a day Iâm having!â he said. âLet us start at once!â
âHold hard a minute, then!â 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.
âShove that under your feet,â he observed to the Mole, as he passed it down into the boat. Then he untied the painter and took the sculls again.
âWhatâs inside it?â asked the Mole, wriggling with curiosity.
âThereâs cold chicken inside it,â replied the Rat briefly; âcoldtonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinssaladfrenchrollscresssandwichespottedmeatgingerbeerlemonadesodawaterâââ
âO stop, stop,â cried the Mole in ecstacies: âThis is too much!â
âDo you really think so?â enqui...