The Wind in the Willows

Part One · The River Bank

All morning, Mole had been spring cleaning his little home under the ground. He swept with brooms and polished with dusters, and he climbed ladders with a pail of whitewash until he had dust in his throat and white splashes all over his velvety black fur. But spring was stirring everywhere, in the air above him and in the earth all around him, filling him with a restless longing. Suddenly Mole flung his brush on the floor. "Bother!" he exclaimed. "Hang spring cleaning!" He scrambled up his steep little tunnel, scraping and scratching, until his nose popped out into the sunlight and he tumbled over in a warm green meadow.

Mole wandered across the meadow, happier than he had ever been, until he came to the edge of a river. He had never seen a river before. It was a sleek, gurgling, glittering creature, chasing and chuckling and shaking itself, and Mole sat on the bank, completely bewitched. In the opposite bank there was a dark hole, and something inside it twinkled like a tiny star. It was an eye. Then a small brown face with whiskers appeared around it, and Mole saw that it was the Water Rat. "Would you like to come over?" called the Rat. He untied a little blue and white boat and rowed across to fetch his visitor.

"Do you know," confessed Mole, as the Rat pushed off, "I've never been in a boat before in all my life." "Never been in a boat?" cried the Rat, astonished. "Then what have you been doing all this time? Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing in the world half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." They rowed down the river to a shady spot under the willows, where the Rat produced an enormous wicker picnic basket. It was packed with cold chicken, ham, salad, fresh rolls, pickles and ginger beer, and Mole squealed with delight, and together they devoured every crumb.

On the journey home, Mole became rather too bold. "Ratty, please, I want to row now!" he pleaded. Before the Rat could answer, Mole jumped up and seized the oars so suddenly that the Rat toppled over backward. Mole swung the oars with tremendous energy and missed the water entirely. The next moment the boat turned upside down with a mighty splash! Down went Mole, sputtering and sinking, until a strong paw grabbed him by the neck and hauled him to the shore. The Rat only laughed. That night Mole stayed at the Rat's cozy house by the river, where he soon learned to row and swim like a genuine water animal.

Part Two · Poop-Poop!

One bright morning the Rat rowed Mole up the river to visit Toad Hall, a handsome old mansion of red brick, with elegant lawns that sloped right down to the water. "Toad is wealthy, and he's the kindest animal alive," the Rat explained, "but he isn't particularly clever, and he's a terrible show-off. He goes completely wild about one thing, and then he gets bored and goes wild about something entirely different." They discovered Toad sitting on the lawn, studying a map. "Hooray!" cried Toad. "You're exactly the fellows I need! Forget boats, because boats are ridiculous. I've discovered the only genuine life there is, and that's the open road!"

In the stable yard stood a caravan, a little house on wheels. It was shiny and new and painted bright yellow, with green trim and scarlet wheels. Inside were tiny bunks, a stove, cupboards, bookshelves and a birdcage with a bird in it. Toad pleaded until the Rat agreed to come, though he would much rather have stayed by his river. So off they went down the dusty lane, with an elderly gray horse pulling the caravan and Toad strutting proudly beside it. They camped that evening on a wide common. Toad chattered about all the places they would visit until he fell asleep in the middle of a sentence.

The following afternoon, the three friends were strolling along the high road beside the caravan when they noticed a faint humming behind them, like a bee far away. Glancing back, they saw a small cloud of dust with a dark center, racing toward them at a fearful speed. Out of the dust came a sound like an angry animal. "Poop-poop!" In an instant a magnificent motor car thundered past them, all flashing glass and gleaming brass. The old horse reared up in terror. With a horrible crash the caravan tipped over sideways into a deep ditch. Pots and pans flew in every direction, and the unfortunate bird in the birdcage sobbed pitifully.

The Rat danced up and down in the road and shook both fists at the vanishing motor car. Toad, however, sat down in the middle of the dust and gazed after it with a dreamy, faraway expression. "Poop-poop," he murmured softly. "Oh, what a glorious, wonderful sight! That's the only proper way to travel, with whole towns whizzing past in a moment! Oh, poop-poop!" "What shall we do with him?" groaned the Mole. "Nothing at all," sighed the Rat, who knew his friend very well. "He's caught a brand new craze, and he's already forgotten the caravan completely." Sure enough, Toad ordered an expensive motor car the very next day.

Part Three · The Wild Wood

Toad purchased one motor car after another, and he smashed every single one of them. He had been in the hospital three times, and he had paid for mountains of broken fences and frightened chickens. Meanwhile winter arrived, and the Mole and the Rat spent long, comfortable evenings beside the fire. Mole wanted very much to meet Mr. Badger, who was wise and gruff and disliked visitors. Badger lived in the very middle of the Wild Wood. So one frosty afternoon, while the Rat was dozing in his armchair, Mole slipped out by himself to go and find him.

At first the Wild Wood seemed perfectly harmless. Then the daylight began to fade, and sharp little faces seemed to peep at Mole from the holes in the banks, disappearing the moment he looked at them. A whistling started up behind him, and then far ahead of him. After that came a pattering, like rain, which grew louder and louder until the whole wood seemed to be running. Mole started running too, without knowing where or why, until he tumbled into the hollow of an ancient beech tree. There he lay panting and trembling, while the snow began to fall in enormous soft flakes.

Back at home, the Rat awoke by the fire and noticed that Mole's cap was missing from its peg, and that Mole's footprints led straight toward the Wild Wood. The Rat grabbed a heavy stick and a lantern and hurried after him, calling, "Moly! Moly! Where are you?" At last a feeble little voice answered from inside the beech tree. "Ratty! Is that really you?" By now the snow had buried every path, and as they stumbled along together, Mole tripped over something hard. "It's a door scraper!" cried the Rat, digging furiously, and underneath the snow they uncovered a little green door with a brass plate that said MR. BADGER.

They rang the bell and hammered on the door until it opened a crack. "Who is disturbing people on a night like this?" grumbled a deep voice. "It's me, Ratty, with my friend Mole, and we're lost in the snow!" "Ratty, my dear little man!" exclaimed Badger, and he flung the door wide open. He led them into a great warm kitchen with a roaring fire, hams dangling from the ceiling and plates twinkling on the shelves. Soon they were wrapped in dressing gowns and eating a splendid supper. Eventually the conversation turned to Toad. "We must take him in hand," declared Badger, "and as soon as spring arrives, I'll deal with him myself."

Part Four · Toad Hall

In the spring, Badger marched to Toad Hall with the Rat and the Mole, and they discovered Toad pulling on enormous goggles, a cap and a gigantic coat for another drive. Badger led him into a private room. After a long, serious talk, Toad came out weeping and promising to behave himself. Then he wiped his eyes and announced, "I'm not sorry at all! Poop-poop!" So his friends locked him in his bedroom until the craze wore off. That very night, Toad knotted his bedsheets into a rope, climbed out of the window, and strolled away, singing a song about his own cleverness.

At an inn, Toad noticed a motor car standing in the yard, and he only intended to look at it. Then he only intended to start it, and then, somehow, he was racing down the high road and honking the horn, until the police finally captured him. The judge sent him to the gloomiest prison in the country for twenty years. Luckily the jailer's daughter took pity on him. She brought him hot buttered toast and tea, and she helped him escape disguised as a washerwoman, in a cotton dress and a bonnet. After many wild adventures, Toad crept back to the river, soaking wet, and climbed into the Rat's front hall.

The Rat had dreadful news. While Toad was away, the weasels and stoats from the Wild Wood had moved into Toad Hall, where they were eating his food, sleeping in his beds and singing rude songs about him. Badger, however, had a plan. "There's a secret tunnel," he explained, "that runs from the river bank right up underneath the pantry, and tomorrow night the weasels are having a grand celebration." So the four friends armed themselves with a stick each, and they crept through the long dark tunnel as silently as they possibly could.

They burst into the dining hall with a tremendous shout. "A Mole! A Mole!" bellowed the Mole, Badger whirled his enormous stick, and Toad flew at the Chief Weasel. The weasels and stoats shrieked and scattered in every direction, out of the windows and across the lawns, all the way back to the Wild Wood. Toad Hall was won back! Toad gave a banquet for his friends, and everybody expected him to make a boastful speech. But Toad had truly changed, and he only smiled modestly, explained that it had all been Badger's plan, and politely passed the cake.

After that, the four friends often walked together through the Wild Wood on long summer evenings, and nobody there ever bothered them again. The weasel mothers would bring their babies to the doorways of their holes and point. "Look, baby!" they would whisper. "There goes the great Mr. Toad, and the brave Water Rat, and the famous Mr. Mole, and the terrible Mr. Badger!" As for Toad, he still enjoyed a speedy ride now and then. But he rowed his own boat, and he listened to his friends, and Toad Hall became the happiest house on the river.