Chapter: "Ratty," said the Mole suddenly, one bright summer morning, "if you
please, I want to ask you a favour."

The Rat was sitting on the river bank, singing a little song. He had
just composed it himself, so he was very taken up with it, and would
not pay proper attention to Mole or anything else. Since early morning
he had been swimming in the river, in company with his friends, the
ducks. And when the ducks stood on their heads suddenly, as ducks
will, he would dive down and tickle their necks, just under where
their chins would be if ducks had chins, till they were forced to come
to the surface again in a hurry, spluttering and angry and shaking
their feathers at him, for it is impossible to say quite _all_ you
feel when your head is under water. At last they implored him to go
away and attend to his own affairs and leave them to mind theirs. So
the Rat went away, and sat on the river bank in the sun, and made up a
song about them, which he called:

            "DUCKS' DITTY."

        All along the backwater,
        Through the rushes tall,
        Ducks are a-dabbling,
        Up tails all!

        Ducks' tails, drakes' tails,
        Yellow feet a-quiver,
        Yellow bills all out of sight
        Busy in the river!

        Slushy green undergrowth
        Where the roach swim--
        Here we keep our larder,
        Cool and full and dim.

        Everyone for what he likes!
        _We_ like to be
        Heads down, tails up,
        Dabbling free!

        High in the blue above
        Swifts whirl and call--
        _We_ are down a-dabbling
        Up tails all!

"I don't know that I think so _very_ much of that little song, Rat,"
observed the Mole cautiously. He was no poet himself and didn't care
who knew it; and he had a candid nature.

"Nor don't the ducks neither," replied the Rat cheerfully. "They say,
'_Why_ can't fellows be allowed to do what they like _when_ they like
and _as_ they like, instead of other fellows sitting on banks and
watching them all the time and making remarks and poetry and things
about them? What _nonsense_ it all is!' That's what the ducks say."

"So it is, so it is," said the Mole, with great heartiness.

"No, it isn't!" cried the Rat indignantly.

"Well then, it isn't, it isn't," replied the Mole soothingly. "But what
I wanted to ask you was, won't you take me to call on Mr. Toad? I've
heard so much about him, and I do so want to make his acquaintance."

"Why, certainly," said the good-natured Rat, jumping to his feet and
dismissing poetry from his mind for the day. "Get the boat out, and
we'll paddle up there at once. It's never the wrong time to call on
Toad. Early or late, he's always the same fellow. Always good-tempered,
always glad to see you, always sorry when you go!"

"He must be a very nice animal," observed the Mole, as he got into the
boat and took the sculls, while the Rat settled himself comfortably in
the stern.

"He is indeed the best of animals," replied Rat. "So simple, so
good-natured, and so affectionate. Perhaps he's not very clever--we
can't all be geniuses; and it may be that he is both boastful and
conceited. But he has got some great qualities, has Toady."

Rounding a bend in the river, they came in sight of a handsome,
dignified old house of mellowed red brick, with well-kept lawns
reaching down to the water's edge.

"There's Toad Hall," said the Rat; "and that creek on the left, where
the notice-board says, 'Private. No landing allowed,' leads to his
boat-house, where we'll leave the boat. The stables are over there to
the right. That's the banqueting-hall you're looking at now--very
old, that is. Toad is rather rich, you know, and this is really one of
the nicest houses in these parts, though we never admit as much to
Toad."

They glided up the creek, and the Mole shipped his sculls as they
passed into the shadow of a large boat-house. Here they saw many
handsome boats, slung from the cross-beams or hauled up on a slip, but
none in the water; and the place had an unused and a deserted air.

The Rat looked around him. "I understand," said he. "Boating is played
out. He's tired of it, and done with it. I wonder what new fad he has
taken up now? Come along and let's look him up. We shall hear all
about it quite soon enough."

They disembarked, and strolled across the gay flower-decked lawns in
search of Toad, whom they presently happened upon resting in a wicker
garden-chair, with a pre-occupied expression of face, and a large map
spread out on his knees.

"Hooray!" he cried, jumping up on seeing them, "this is splendid!" He
shook the paws of both of them warmly, never waiting for an introduction
to the Mole. "How _kind_ of you!" he went on, dancing round them. "I was
just going to send a boat down the river for you, Ratty, with strict
orders that you were to be fetched up here at once, whatever you were
doing. I want you badly--both of you. Now what will you take? Come
inside and have something! You don't know how lucky it is, your
turning up just now!"

"Let's sit quiet a bit, Toady!" said the Rat, throwing himself into an
easy chair, while the Mole took another by the side of him and made
some civil remark about Toad's "delightful residence."

"Finest house on the whole river," cried Toad boisterously. "Or
anywhere else, for that matter," he could not help adding.

Here the Rat nudged the Mole. Unfortunately the Toad saw him do it, and
turned very red. There was a moment's painful silence. Then Toad burst
out laughing. "All right, Ratty," he said. "It's only my way, you know.
And it's not such a very bad house, is it? You know, you rather like it
yourself. Now, look here. Let's be sensible. You are the very animals I
wanted. You've got to help me. It's most important!"

"It's about your rowing, I suppose," said the Rat, with an innocent
air. "You're getting on fairly well, though you splash a good bit
still. With a great deal of patience and any quantity of coaching, you
may--"

"O, pooh! boating!" interrupted the Toad, in great disgust. "Silly
boyish amusement. I've given that up _long_ ago. Sheer waste of time,
that's what it is. It makes me downright sorry to see you fellows, who
ought to know better, spending all your energies in that aimless manner.
No, I've discovered the real thing, the only genuine occupation for a
lifetime. I propose to devote the remainder of mine to it, and can only
regret the wasted years that lie behind me, squandered in trivialities.
Come with me, dear Ratty, and your amiable friend also, if he will be so
very good, just as far as the stable-yard, and you shall see what you
shall see!"

He led the way to the stable-yard accordingly, the Rat following with
a most mistrustful expression; and there, drawn out of the coach-house
into the open, they saw a gipsy caravan, shining with newness, painted
a canary-yellow picked out with green, and red wheels.

"There you are!" cried the Toad, straddling and expanding himself.
"There's real life for you, embodied in that little cart. The open
road, the dusty highway, the heath, the common, the hedgerows, the
rolling downs! Camps, villages, towns, cities! Here to-day, up and off
to somewhere else to-morrow! Travel, change, interest, excitement! The
whole world before you, and a horizon that's always changing! And
mind! this is the very finest cart of its sort that was ever built,
without any exception. Come inside and look at the arrangements.
Planned 'em all myself, I did!"

The Mole was tremendously interested and excited, and followed him
eagerly up the steps and into the interior of the caravan. The Rat
only snorted and thrust his hands deep into his pockets, remaining
where he was.

It was indeed very compact and comfortable. Little sleeping bunks--a
little table that folded up against the wall--a cooking-stove,
lockers, book-shelves, a bird-cage with a bird in it; and pots, pans,
jugs, and kettles of every size and variety.

"All complete!" said the Toad triumphantly, pulling open a locker.
"You see--biscuits, potted lobster, sardines--everything you can
possibly want. Soda-water here--baccy there--letter-paper, bacon, jam,
cards, and dominoes--you'll find," he continued, as they descended the
steps again, "you'll find that nothing whatever has been forgotten,
when we make our start this afternoon."

"I beg your pardon," said the Rat slowly, as he chewed a straw, "but
did I overhear you say something about '_we_,' and '_start_,' and
'_this afternoon_'?"

"Now, you dear good old Ratty," said Toad imploringly, "don't begin
talking in that stiff and sniffy sort of way, because you know you've
_got_ to come. I can't possibly manage without you, so please consider
it settled, and don't argue--it's the one thing I can't stand. You
surely don't mean to stick to your dull fusty old river all your life,
and just live in a hole in a bank, and _boat_? I want to show you the
world! I'm going to make an _animal_ of you, my boy!"

"I don't care," said the Rat doggedly. "I'm not coming, and that's
flat. And I _am_ going to stick to my old river, _and_ live in a hole,
_and_ boat, as I've always done. And what's more, Mole's going to
stick to me and do as I do, aren't you, Mole?"

"Of course I am," said the Mole, loyally. "I'll always stick to you,
Rat, and what you say is to be--has got to be. All the same, it sounds
as if it might have been--well, rather fun, you know!" he added
wistfully. Poor Mole! The Life Adventurous was so new a thing to him,
and so thrilling; and this fresh aspect of it was so tempting; and he
had fallen in love at first sight with the canary-coloured cart and
all its little fitments.

The Rat saw what was passing in his mind, and wavered. He hated
disappointing people, and he was fond of the Mole, and would do
almost anything to oblige him. Toad was watching both of them closely.

"Come along in, and have some lunch," he said, diplomatically, "and
we'll talk it over. We needn't decide anything in a hurry. Of course,
_I_ don't really care. I only want to give pleasure to you fellows.
'Live for others!' That's my motto in life."

During luncheon--which was excellent, of course, as everything at Toad
Hall always was--the Toad simply let himself go. Disregarding the Rat,
he proceeded to play upon the inexperienced Mole as on a harp.
Naturally a voluble animal, and always mastered by his imagination, he
painted the prospects of the trip and the joys of the open life and
the roadside in such glowing colours that the Mole could hardly sit in
his chair for excitement. Somehow, it soon seemed taken for granted by
all three of them that the trip was a settled thing; and the Rat,
though still unconvinced in his mind, allowed his good-nature to
over-ride his personal objections. He could not bear to disappoint his
two friends, who were already deep in schemes and anticipations,
planning out each day's separate occupation for several weeks ahead.

When they were quite ready, the now triumphant Toad led his companions
to the paddock and set them to capture the old grey horse, who,
without having been consulted, and to his own extreme annoyance, had
been told off by Toad for the dustiest job in this dusty expedition.
He frankly preferred the paddock, and took a deal of catching.
Meantime Toad packed the lockers still tighter with necessaries, and
hung nose-bags, nets of onions, bundles of hay, and baskets from the
bottom of the cart. At last the horse was caught and harnessed, and
they set off, all talking at once, each animal either trudging by the
side of the cart or sitting on the shaft, as the humour took him. It
was a golden afternoon. The smell of the dust they kicked up was rich
and satisfying; out of thick orchards on either side the road, birds
called and whistled to them cheerily; good-natured wayfarers, passing
them, gave them "Good day," or stopped to say nice things about their
beautiful cart; and rabbits, sitting at their front doors in the
hedgerows, held up their fore-paws, and said, "O my! O my! O my!"

Late in the evening, tired and happy and miles from home, they drew up
on a remote common far from habitations, turned the horse loose to
graze, and ate their simple supper sitting on the grass by the side of
the cart. Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to
come, while stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow
moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came
to keep them company and listen to their talk. At last they turned in
to their little bunks in the cart; and Toad, kicking out his legs,
sleepily said, "Well, good night, you fellows! This is the real life
for a gentleman! Talk about your old river!"

"I _don't_ talk about my river," replied the patient Rat. "You _know_
I don't, Toad. But I _think_ about it," he added pathetically, in a
lower tone: "I think about it--all the time!"

The Mole reached out from under his blanket, felt for the Rat's paw in
the darkness, and gave it a squeeze. "I'll do whatever you like,
Ratty," he whispered. "Shall we run away to-morrow morning, quite
early--_very_ early--and go back to our dear old hole on the river?"

"No, no, we'll see it out," whispered back the Rat. "Thanks awfully,
but I ought to stick by Toad till this trip is ended. It wouldn't be
safe for him to be left to himself. It won't take very long. His fads
never do. Good night!"

The end was indeed nearer than even the Rat suspected.

After so much open air and excitement the Toad slept very soundly, and
no amount of shaking could rouse him out of bed next morning. So the
Mole and Rat turned to, quietly and manfully, and while the Rat saw to
the horse, and lit a fire, and cleaned last night's cups and platters,
and got things ready for breakfast, the Mole trudged off to the
nearest village, a long way off, for milk and eggs and various
necessaries the Toad had, of course, forgotten to provide. The hard
work had all been done, and the two animals were resting, thoroughly
exhausted, by the time Toad appeared on the scene, fresh and gay,
remarking what a pleasant, easy life it was they were all leading now,
after the cares and worries and fatigues of housekeeping at home.

They had a pleasant ramble that day over grassy downs and along narrow
by-lanes, and camped, as before, on a common, only this time the two
guests took care that Toad should do his fair share of work. In
consequence, when the time came for starting next morning, Toad was by
no means so rapturous about the simplicity of the primitive life, and
indeed attempted to resume his place in his bunk, whence he was hauled
by force. Their way lay, as before, across country by narrow lanes,
and it was not till the afternoon that they came out on the high-road,
their first high-road; and there disaster, fleet and unforeseen,
sprang out on them--disaster momentous indeed to their expedition, but
simply overwhelming in its effect on the after career of Toad.

They were strolling along the high-road easily, the Mole by the
horse's head, talking to him, since the horse had complained that he
was being frightfully left out of it, and nobody considered him in
the least; the Toad and the Water Rat walking behind the cart talking
together--at least Toad was talking, and Rat was saying at intervals,
"Yes, precisely; and what did _you_ say to _him_?"--and thinking all
the time of something very different, when far behind them they heard
a faint warning hum, like the drone of a distant bee. Glancing back,
they saw a small cloud of dust, with a dark centre of energy,
advancing on them at incredible speed, while from out the dust a faint
"Poop-poop!" wailed like an uneasy animal in pain. Hardly regarding
it, they turned to resume their conversation, when in an instant (as
it seemed) the peaceful scene was changed, and with a blast of wind
and a whirl of sound that made them jump for the nearest ditch. It was
on them! The "Poop-poop" rang with a brazen shout in their ears, they
had a moment's glimpse of an interior of glittering plate-glass and
rich morocco, and the magnificent motor-car, immense, breath-snatching,
passionate, with its pilot tense and hugging his wheel, possessed all
earth and air for the fraction of a second, flung an enveloping cloud
of dust that blinded and enwrapped them utterly, and then dwindled to
a speck in the far distance, changed back into a droning bee once more.

The old grey horse, dreaming, as he plodded along, of his quiet
paddock, in a new raw situation such as this, simply abandoned himself
to his natural emotions. Rearing, plunging, backing steadily, in spite
of all the Mole's efforts at his head, and all the Mole's lively
language directed at his better feelings, he drove the cart backward
towards the deep ditch at the side of the road. It wavered an
instant--then there was a heart-rending crash--and the canary-coloured
cart, their pride and their joy, lay on its side in the ditch, an
irredeemable wreck.

The Rat danced up and down in the road, simply transported with passion.
"You villains!" he shouted, shaking both fists. "You scoundrels, you
highwaymen, you--you--road-hogs!--I'll have the law of you! I'll report
you! I'll take you through all the Courts!" His home-sickness had quite
slipped away from him, and for the moment he was the skipper of the
canary-coloured vessel driven on a shoal by the reckless jockeying of
rival mariners, and he was trying to recollect all the fine and biting
things he used to say to masters of steam-launches when their wash, as
they drove too near the bank, used to flood his parlour-carpet at home.

Toad sat straight down in the middle of the dusty road, his legs
stretched out before him, and stared fixedly in the direction of the
disappearing motor-car. He breathed short, his face wore a placid,
satisfied expression, and at intervals he faintly murmured "Poop-poop!"

The Mole was busy trying to quiet the horse, which he succeeded in
doing after a time. Then he went to look at the cart, on its side in
the ditch. It was indeed a sorry sight. Panels and windows smashed,
axles hopelessly bent, one wheel off, sardine-tins scattered over the
wide world, and the bird in the bird-cage sobbing pitifully and
calling to be let out.

The Rat came to help him, but their united efforts were not sufficient
to right the cart. "Hi! Toad!" they cried. "Come and bear a hand,
can't you!"

The Toad never answered a word, or budged from his seat in the road;
so they went to see what was the matter with him. They found him in a
sort of a trance, a happy smile on his face, his eyes still fixed on
the dusty wake of their destroyer. At intervals he was still heard to
murmur "Poop-poop!"

The Rat shook him by the shoulder. "Are you coming to help us, Toad?"
he demanded sternly.

"Glorious, stirring sight!" murmured Toad, never offering to move.
"The poetry of motion! The _real_ way to travel! The _only_ way to
travel! Here to-day--in next week to-morrow! Villages skipped, towns
and cities jumped--always somebody else's horizon! O bliss! O
poop-poop! O my! O my!"

"O _stop_ being an ass, Toad!" cried the Mole despairingly.

"And to think I never _knew_!" went on the Toad in a dreamy monotone.
"All those wasted years that lie behind me, I never knew, never even
_dreamt_! But _now_--but now that I know, now that I fully realise! O
what a flowery track lies spread before me, henceforth! What
dust-clouds shall spring up behind me as I speed on my reckless way!
What carts I shall fling carelessly into the ditch in the wake of my
magnificent onset! Horrid little carts--common carts--canary-coloured
carts!"

"What are we to do with him?" asked the Mole of the Water Rat.

"Nothing at all," replied the Rat firmly. "Because there is really
nothing to be done. You see, I know him from of old. He is now
possessed. He has got a new craze, and it always takes him that way,
in its first stage. He'll continue like that for days now, like an
animal walking in a happy dream, quite useless for all practical
purposes. Never mind him. Let's go and see what there is to be done
about the cart."

A careful inspection showed them that, even if they succeeded in
righting it by themselves, the cart would travel no longer. The axles
were in a hopeless state, and the missing wheel was shattered into
pieces.

The Rat knotted the horse's reins over his back and took him by the
head, carrying the bird-cage and its hysterical occupant in the other
hand. "Come on!" he said grimly to the Mole. "It's five or six miles
to the nearest town, and we shall just have to walk it. The sooner we
make a start the better."

"But what about Toad?" asked the Mole anxiously, as they set off
together. "We can't leave him here, sitting in the middle of the road
by himself, in the distracted state he's in! It's not safe. Supposing
another Thing were to come along?"

"O, _bother_ Toad," said the Rat savagely; "I've done with him."

They had not proceeded very far on their way, however, when there was
a pattering of feet behind them, and Toad caught them up and thrust a
paw inside the elbow of each of them; still breathing short and
staring into vacancy.

"Now, look here, Toad!" said the Rat sharply: "as soon as we get to
the town, you'll have to go straight to the police-station and see if
they know anything about that motor-car and who it belongs to, and
lodge a complaint against it. And then you'll have to go to a
blacksmith's or a wheelwright's and arrange for the cart to be fetched
and mended and put to rights. It'll take time, but it's not quite a
hopeless smash. Meanwhile, the Mole and I will go to an inn and find
comfortable rooms where we can stay till the cart's ready, and till
your nerves have recovered their shock."

"Police-station! Complaint!" murmured Toad dreamily. "Me _complain_ of
that beautiful, that heavenly vision that has been vouchsafed me!
_Mend_ the _cart_! I've done with carts for ever. I never want to see
the cart, or to hear of it, again. O Ratty! You can't think how
obliged I am to you for consenting to come on this trip! I wouldn't
have gone without you, and then I might never have seen that--that
swan, that sunbeam, that thunderbolt! I might never have heard that
entrancing sound, or smelt that bewitching smell! I owe it all to you,
my best of friends!"

[Illustration: _"Come on!" he said. "We shall just have to walk it"_]

The Rat turned from him in despair. "You see what it is?" he said
to the Mole, addressing him across Toad's head: "He's quite hopeless.
I give it up--when we get to the town we'll go to the railway station,
and with luck we may pick up a train there that'll get us back to
river bank to-night. And if ever you catch me going a-pleasuring with
this provoking animal again!"--He snorted, and during the rest of that
weary trudge addressed his remarks exclusively to Mole.

On reaching the town they went straight to the station and deposited
Toad in the second-class waiting-room, giving a porter twopence to
keep a strict eye on him. They then left the horse at an inn stable,
and gave what directions they could about the cart and its contents.
Eventually, a slow train having landed them at a station not very far
from Toad Hall, they escorted the spellbound, sleep-walking Toad to
his door, put him inside it, and instructed his housekeeper to feed
him, undress him, and put him to bed. Then they got out their boat
from the boat-house, sculled down the river home, and at a very late
hour sat down to supper in their own cosy riverside parlour, to the
Rat's great joy and contentment.

The following evening the Mole, who had risen late and taken things
very easy all day, was sitting on the bank fishing, when the Rat, who
had been looking up his friends and gossiping, came strolling along to
find him. "Heard the news?" he said. "There's nothing else being
talked about, all along the river bank. Toad went up to Town by an
early train this morning. And he has ordered a large and very
expensive motor-car."

 "The Open Road" After some time of living with Rat, Mole has become incredibly interested in meeting the famed Mr. Toad. He asks Rat to bring him to Toad Hall - Toad's huge estate - and Rat agrees. They set off by boat. When they reach Toad Hall, they park in the boat house, where Rat points out the dozens of boats that Toad has accumulated. He mentions that Toad had been previously obsessed with boating, but that that fad has now died. When he sees them approach, Toad rushes out from Toad Hall, greeting them enthusiastically. Mole compliments Toad Hall, and Toad begins boasting about its prominence. Rat mentions Toad's boating mania, but Toad scoffs at how juvenile boating was. He then ushers Rat and Mole to his newest toy: a yellow horse-drawn caravan. According to Toad, traveling the open road is the only way to truly live, and he believes this cart will allow him to explore the world. Toad's enthusiasm excites Mole, but Rat remains weary of Toad's newest obsession. When Toad invites them to join him on a trip, Rat insists they stay by the river. However, when he discerns Mole's excitement at the prospect, Rat acquiesces, and the group sets off together. Everything goes well on the first day of the trip. Much to Rat's expectations, Toad shirks his duties of cooking and cleaning, but Mole is excited nevertheless. Suddenly, they hear a dangerous hum behind them, and the caravan is overtaken by a bustling motor car. Thrown off the road into a ditch, the caravan shatters. Though angry, Rat tries to comfort Toad, who seems entirely dazed. However, Toad quickly breaks his silence with admiring words about the motor car. He soon enough confesses his new plan: to abandon the slow, antiquated caravan in favor of a new automobile. Rat and Mole, tired of Toad's childishness, begin walking to the nearest town while a love-struck Toad follows behind. Once they reach the town, Rat instructs Toad to go to bed, and then arranges for the caravan to be towed back to the house. He and Mole then take a train back to the river. The next day, they hear a rumor that Toad has ordered an expensive motor car.

