The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame (black male authors txt) 📕
Description
The Wind in the Willows, the story of four animals and their adventures in the idyllic English countryside, started out as bedtime stories Grahame would tell his son. He eventually started writing them down, and finally produced this much-loved childrens classic.
In continuous print since 1908, The Wind in the Willows has been illustrated countless times and adapted to stage, radio, and screen.
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- Author: Kenneth Grahame
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“Oh, very well, have it your own way,” said the Rat. He was getting rather muddled about it himself, and presently he retired into a corner, where he could be heard muttering, “Learn ’em, teach ’em, teach ’em, learn ’em!” till the Badger told him rather sharply to leave off.
Presently the Mole came tumbling into the room, evidently very pleased with himself. “I’ve been having such fun!” he began at once; “I’ve been getting a rise out of the stoats!”
“I hope you’ve been very careful, Mole?” said the Rat anxiously.
“I should hope so, too,” said the Mole confidently. “I got the idea when I went into the kitchen, to see about Toad’s breakfast being kept hot for him. I found that old washerwoman-dress that he came home in yesterday, hanging on a towel-horse before the fire. So I put it on, and the bonnet as well, and the shawl, and off I went to Toad Hall, as bold as you please. The sentries were on the lookout, of course, with their guns and their ‘Who comes there?’ and all the rest of their nonsense. ‘Good morning, gentlemen!’ says I, very respectful. ‘Want any washing done today?’ They looked at me very proud and stiff and haughty, and said, ‘Go away, washerwoman! We don’t do any washing on duty.’ ‘Or any other time?’ says I. Ho, ho, ho! Wasn’t I funny, Toad?”
“Poor, frivolous animal!” said Toad, very loftily. The fact is, he felt exceedingly jealous of Mole for what he had just done. It was exactly what he would have liked to have done himself, if only he had thought of it first, and hadn’t gone and overslept himself.
“Some of the stoats turned quite pink,” continued the Mole, “and the Sergeant in charge, he said to me, very short, he said, ‘Now run away, my good woman, run away! Don’t keep my men idling and talking on their posts.’ ‘Run away?’ says I; ‘it won’t be me that’ll be running away, in a very short time from now!’ ”
“O Moly, how could you?” said the Rat, dismayed.
The Badger laid down his paper.
“I could see them pricking up their ears and looking at each other,” went on the Mole; “and the Sergeant said to them, ‘Never mind her; she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.’ ”
“ ‘O! don’t I?’ said I. ‘Well, let me tell you this. My daughter, she washes for Mr. Badger, and that’ll show you whether I know what I’m talking about; and you’ll know pretty soon, too! A hundred bloodthirsty badgers, armed with rifles, are going to attack Toad Hall this very night, by way of the paddock. Six boatloads of Rats, with pistols and cutlasses, will come up the river and effect a landing in the garden; while a picked body of Toads, known as the Diehards, or the Death-or-Glory Toads, will storm the orchard and carry everything before them, yelling for vengeance. There won’t be much left of you to wash, by the time they’ve done with you, unless you clear out while you have the chance!’ Then I ran away, and when I was out of sight I hid; and presently I came creeping back along the ditch and took a peep at them through the hedge. They were all as nervous and flustered as could be, running all ways at once, and falling over each other, and everyone giving orders to everybody else and not listening; and the Sergeant kept sending off parties of stoats to distant parts of the grounds, and then sending other fellows to fetch ’em back again; and I heard them saying to each other, ‘That’s just like the weasels; they’re to stop comfortably in the banqueting-hall, and have feasting and toasts and songs and all sorts of fun, while we must stay on guard in the cold and the dark, and in the end be cut to pieces by bloodthirsty Badgers!’ ”
“Oh, you silly ass, Mole!” cried Toad, “You’ve been and spoilt everything!”
“Mole,” said the Badger, in his dry, quiet way, “I perceive you have more sense in your little finger than some other animals have in the whole of their fat bodies. You have managed excellently, and I begin to have great hopes of you. Good Mole! Clever Mole!”
The Toad was simply wild with jealousy, more especially as he couldn’t make out for the life of him what the Mole had done that was so particularly clever; but, fortunately for him, before he could show temper or expose himself to the Badger’s sarcasm, the bell rang for luncheon.
It was a simple but sustaining meal—bacon and broad beans, and a macaroni pudding; and when they had quite done, the Badger settled himself into an armchair, and said, “Well, we’ve got our work cut out for us tonight, and it will probably be pretty late before we’re quite through with it; so I’m just going to take forty winks, while I can.” And he drew a handkerchief over his face and was soon snoring.
The anxious and laborious Rat at once resumed his preparations, and started running between his four little heaps, muttering, “Here’s-a-belt-for-the-Rat, here’s-a-belt-for-the-Mole, here’s-a-belt-for-the-Toad, here’s-a-belt-for-the-Badger!” and so on, with every fresh accoutrement he produced, to which there seemed really no end; so the Mole drew his arm through Toad’s, led him out into the open air, shoved him into a wicker chair, and made him tell him all his adventures from beginning to end, which Toad was only too willing to do. The Mole was a good listener, and Toad, with no one to check his statements or to criticise in an unfriendly spirit, rather let himself go. Indeed, much that he related belonged more properly to the category of what-might-have-happened-had-I-only-thought-of-it-in-time-instead-of-ten-minutes-afterwards. Those are always the best and the raciest adventures; and why should they not be truly ours, as much as the somewhat inadequate things that really come off?
XII The Return of UlyssesWhen it began to grow dark, the Rat, with an air of excitement and mystery,
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