Complete Works of Kenneth Grahame

by Kenneth Grahame

  Suddenly the engine-driver began to listen; presently he said ‘It’s very funny, but I believe I hear another train following us!’ The toad began to feel nervous. Then the engine-driver looked over the back of the train, for the moon was shining brightly & he could see a long way down the line, & at last he cried out ‘Yes! I see an engine! It is coming along very fast. I believe we are being pursued!’ And the toad began to feel very nervous. Presently the engine-driver looked again, & then he cried ‘Yes, they are gaining on us! I can see them clearly now! It is an engine pursuing us! It is full of policemen, and they are all brandishing revolvers & calling out Stop, Stop, Stop, STOP, STOP!!!!

  This is all the news I have up to the present time.

  Your affectionate

  Daddy.

  THE FOWEY HOTEL,

  FOWEY, CORNWALL,

  31st May 1907

  MY DEAREST MOUSE,

  Now you may like to hear something further about poor Toad. When Toad heard that they were being pursued by an engine full of policemen with revolvers, he fell on his knees among the coals & cried out, ‘O kind Mr. Engine- driver, save me, save me, & I will confess everything! I am not the washerwoman I seem to be! I am a toad — the well- known Mr. Toad, of Toad Hall — & I have escaped from prison, & those policemen are coming to re-capture me!’ Then the engine-driver looked very grave, & said, ‘What were you in prison for, toad?’ And the toad blushed deeply & said, ‘I only borrowed a motor-car while the people were having lunch. I didn’t mean to steal it really.’

  ‘Well,’ said the engine-driver, ‘you have evidently been a bad toad. But I will save you if I can.’ So he piled more coals on the fire, and the engine flew over the rails, but the engine behind kept gaining & gaining, & presently the engine-driver said with a sigh, ‘I’m afraid it’s no use. They must catch us up soon, & then they will climb along our train till they get to our engine, & if we attempt to resist they will shoot us dead with their revolvers.’ Then the toad said, ‘O dear kind Mr. Engine-driver, do think of something to save me!’ And the engine-driver thought a bit & then he said, ‘There’s just one thing I can do, & its your only chance. We are coming to a long tunnel, & on the other side of the tunnel is a thick wood. I will put on all speed while we are running through the tunnel, & as soon as we are through I will “slow up” for a few seconds, & you must jump off & run into the wood & hide yourself before the other engine gets through the tunnel, & then I will go on at full speed & they will continue to chase me, thinking you are still on the train.’

  Next moment they shot into the tunnel, & the engine- driver piled on more coals, & the sparks flew, & the train rushed & roared and rattled through the tunnel [till] at last they shot out into the moonlight on [at] the other side, [end & saw the wood lying dark & (gap) on either side of the] & then the engine-driver put on his brakes hard & the train slowed down to almost a walking pace & the toad got down on the step & the engine-driver said, ‘Now jump!’ and the toad jumped, & rolled down the embankment & scrambled into the wood & hid himself. Then he peeped out & saw the train get up speed again & go off very fast. And presently the other engine came roaring & whistling out of the tunnel, in hot pursuit, with the policemen waving their revolvers & shouting ‘Stop, Stop, Stop!!! Then toad had a good laugh — for the first time since he was put into prison.

  But it was now very late, & dark, & cold, & here he was in a wild wood, with no money & no friends. And little animals peeped out of their holes & pointed at him & made fun of him; & a fox came slinking by, & said ‘Hullo washerwoman! How’s the washing business doing?’ and sniggered. And the toad looked for a stone to throw at him, & couldn’t find one, which made him sad. Presently he came to a hollow tree, full of dry leaves; & there he curled himself up as comfortably as he could, & slept till the morning.

  In my next letter I will try to tell you the Adventure of the Toad & the Bargee; & about the Gipsy, & how the Toad went into Horse-dealing.

  Ever your affectionate

  Daddy.

  THE FOWEY HOTEL,

  FOWEY, CORNWALL,

  7th June 1907

  MY DEAREST MOUSE,

  You may be wishing to hear what further things happened to Toad on his way home, after his escape from the policemen who were pursuing him to take him back to prison. Well, next morning the sun shone brightly into the hollow tree, & woke up Mr. Toad, who was sleeping soundly after his fatiguing exertions of the previous day. He got up, shook himself, combed the dead leaves out of his hair with his fingers, & set off walking briskly, for he was very cold & rather hungy. Well, he walked & he walked, till he came to a canal, & he thought that must lead to a town, so he walked along the tow-path, & presently he met a horse, with a long rope attached to it, towing a barge; & he waited for the barge to come up, & there was a man steering it, & he nodded, & said ‘Good-morning, washerwoman! what are you doing here?’ Then the toad made a pitiful face, & said ‘Please, kind Sir, I am going to pay a visit to my married daughter, who lives near a fine house called “Toad Hall”; but I’ve lost my way, & spent all my money& I’m very tired.’ Then the man said, ‘Toad Hall? Why, I’m going that way myself. Jump in, & I’ll give you a lift.’ So he steered the barge close to the bank, & the toad stepped on board & sat down, very pleased with himself. Presently the man said, ‘I don’t see why I should give you a lift for nothing, so you take that tub of water standing over there, & that bit of yellow soap, & here are some shirts, & you can be washing them as we go along’. Then the toad was rather frightened, for he had never washed a shirt in his life; but he dabbed the shirt into the water, & he dabbed some soap on it, but it never seemed to get any cleaner, & his fingers got very cold & he began to get very cross. Presently the man came to see how he was getting on, & burst out laughing at him, & said ‘Call yourself a washerwoman? That’s not the way to wash a shirt, you very silly old woman!’ Then the toad lost his temper, & quite forgot himself, & said ‘Don’t you dare to speak to your betters like that! And don’t call me a silly old woman! I’m no more an old woman than you are yourself, you common, low, vulgar bargee!’ Then the bargee looked closely at him, & cried out ‘Why, no, I can see you’re not really a washerwoman at all! You’re nothing but an old toad!’ Then he grabbed the toad by one hind-leg & one fore-leg, & swung him round & sent him flying through the air.

  He found himself head-over-ears in the water!

  When the toad came to the surface he wiped the water out of his eyes & struck out for the shore; but the woman’s dress he was wearing got round his legs, & made it very hard work. When at last he was safely on the tow-path again, he saw the barge disappearing in the distance, & the man looking back & laughing at him. This made Mr. Toad mad with rage. He tucked the wet skirt up well under his arms, & ran as hard as he could along the path, & passed the barge, & ran on till he overtook the horse that was towing it, and unfastened the tow-rope, & jumped on the horse’s back, & dug his heels into its sides, & off they went at a gallop! He took one look back as they went, & he saw that the barge had run into the opposite bank of the canal, & stuck, & the bargee was shaking his fist at him & calling out ‘Stop, Stop, Stop!! But the toad never stopped, but only laughed & galloped on & on & on, across country, over fields & hedges, until he had left the canal, & the barge, & the bargee, miles & miles behind him.

  I am afraid the Gipsy will have to wait till the next letter.

  Your affectionate

  Daddy.

  16 DURHAM VILLAS,

  CAMPDEN HILL, W.

  21 June 1907

  MY DEAREST MOUSE,

  No doubt you will be interested to hear the further adventures of Mr. Toad, after he galloped away across country on the bargee’s horse, with the bargee shouting after him in vain. Well presently the horse got tired of galloping so fast, and broke from a gallop into a trot, and then from a trot into a walk, & then he stopped altogether & began to nibble grass. And the toad looked round about him & found he was on a large common. On the common stood a gipsy tent, and a
gipsy man was sitting beside it, on a bucket turned upside-down, smoking. In front of the tent a fire of sticks was burning, & over the fire hung an iron pot, and out of the pot came steam, & bubblings, and the most beautiful good smell that ever you smelt. Then the toad felt very hungry indeed, for he had had no breakfast that morning, & no supper the night before; so he sniffed & sniffed, & looked at the pot, & the gipsy; & the gipsy sat & smoked, & looked back at him.

  Presently the gipsy took his pipe out of his mouth & said ‘Like to sell that there horse of yours?’ (Now you must understand that gipsies are very fond of buying & selling horses, & never miss an opportunity.)

  This was an entirely new idea to Toad. He had never thought of trying to sell the horse; but now he saw a way of getting a little money, which he wanted so badly. So he said, ‘What, sell this beautiful young animal o’ mine? No, I can’t say I had thought of selling this beautiful young animal o’ mine. You see it’s such a beautiful young animal — half an Arab & half a Race Horse & half a Prize Hackney. However, how much might you feel disposed to give me for this very beautiful young animal o’ mine?’

  The gipsy looked at the horse, & he looked at the Toad, & he looked at the horse again, & then he said— ‘Shilling a leg,’ & turned away & went on smoking.

  ‘A Shilling a leg?’ said Mr. Toad— ‘please I shall want a little time to work that out, & add it up, & see what it comes to.’ So he climbed down off the horse & left it to graze, & sat down by the gipsy, & counted on his fingers, & did sums in his head, & presently he said ‘A shilling a leg? Why, that comes to exactly four shillings. O no. I could not think of selling this beautiful young animal for four shillings.’

  ‘Well,’ said the gipsy, ‘I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll make it five shillings & that’s a shilling more than he’s worth; & that’s my last word.’

  Then the toad pondered deeply. For he was penniless, & five shillings seemed a very large sum of money. On the other hand, it did not seem very much to get for a horse. But then the horse hadn’t cost him anything, so it was all clear profit. At last he said, ‘Look here, gipsy. You shall give me six shillings & sixpence, cash, & as much breakfast as I can eat, out of that iron pot of yours that keeps sending forth such delicious smells. And I will give you my fine young horse & all the beautiful harness that is on him.’ Well the gipsy grumbled a bit, but at last he agreed. And he counted out six shillings & sixpence into toad’s paw; & then he fetched plates out of the tent, & poured hot stew into them out of the pot; & it was the most beautiful stew, made of partridges & pheasants & chickens & hares & rabbits & pea-hens & guinea fowls. And the toad stuffed & stuffed, & kept asking for more & thought that he had never eaten so good a breakfast in all his life.

  Your affectionate

  Daddy.

  16 DURHAM VILLAS,

  CAMPDEN HILL, W.

  17 July 1907

  MY DEAR ROBINSON,

  Well!

  So when the Toad had stuffed as much breakfast inside of him as he could possibly hold, he stood up, and shook hands with the Gipsy and said goodbye to him, & said goodbye to the horse, & set off in the direction of Toad Hall. And by this time he was feeling very happy, for the sun was shining brightly, & his wet clothes were quite dry again, & he had had a first-rate breakfast, & he had got money in his pocket, & he was getting near his home. And he thought of his adventures, & all the dangers he had escaped, & he began to be very proud & stuck-up, and ‘Ho ho,’ he said to himself as he tramped along, ‘What a clever animal I am! There is no one like me in the whole world! My enemies shut me up in prison; I escape with the greatest ease, [by sheer ability & daring]. They pursue me with engines & policemen & revolvers; I simply laugh at [the whole crowd of them] them & disappear. I am [unfortunately] thrown into canals; [What of it?] I swim to land, seize a horse, [escape in triumph], sell it for a pocketful of money, get breakfasts given me & am made- welcome wherever I go! Ho ho! I am The Toad, the handsome, the popular, the glorious Toad!’ Then he got so puffed up with pride & conceit that he made up a song, in praise of himself, & sang it as he walked along & it was a conceited song! Here are some of the verses:

  The world has held great Heroes,

  As history-books have showed, never a name to go down to fame

  (But none so divine, or half so fine)*

  Compared with that of

  (As the famous Mr.)* Toad!

  The clever men at Oxford

  Know all that there is to be knowed;

  But they none of them know one half as much

  As intelligent Mr. Toad!

  The animals sat in the Ark & cried,

  Their tears in torrents flowed;

  Who was it said ‘There’s land ahead’?

  Encouraging Mr. Toad!

  The Army all saluted

  As they marched along the road.

  — Was it the King? — or Kitchener?

  No; it was Mr. Toad.

  The Queen and her Ladies-in-waiting

  Sat at the window and sewed.

  She cried ‘Look! who’s that handsome man?’

  They answered: ‘Mr. Toad!’

  This was the sort of stuff that he sang, the conceited animal. But his pride was soon to have a fall. Let it be a lesson to us, not to be so puffed up & conceited as the proud Toad.

  Presently he came to the high-road which ran past the common; and as he glanced up it, he saw, very far away, a dark speck, which gradually grew larger & larger & larger; & then he heard a faint humming noise, which gradually grew louder & louder & louder; & then he heard a very well-known sound, & that was Poop! poop!

  ‘Ho ho!’ said the Toad, ‘this is life, this is what I like! I will stop them & ask them to give me a lift, & so I will drive up to Toad Hall in triumph on a motor-car! And perhaps I shall be able to — borrow that motor-car.’ He did not say ‘steal’, but I fear the wicked animal thought it. He stepped out into the road to hail the car, when suddenly his face turned very pale, his knees trembled & shook, & he had a bad pain in his tummy. Why was this? Because he had suddenly recognized the car as the very one he had stolen out of the yard of the Red Lion Hotel! And the people sitting inside were the very people who had gone into the Hotel for refreshments on that fatal day!

  (To be continued)

  Dy

  16 DURHAM VILLAS,

  CAMPDEN HILL, W.

  7 th August, 1907

  MY DEAR MICHAEL ROBINSON,

  When the Toad saw that his enemies were close upon him, his heart turned to water, his muscles failed, & he sank down in a shabby miserable heap in the road, murmuring to himself ‘It’s all up! It’s all over now! Prison again! Dry bread and water again! Chains and policemen again? O what a fool I have been! What did I want to go strutting about the country for, singing conceited songs, instead of going quietly home by back ways & hiding, until it all blew over! O unhappy toad! O miserable animal!’ And his head sank down in the dust.

  The terrible motor-car drew nearer & nearer & nearer. Then it stopped. Some gentlemen got out. They walked round the trembling heap of misery lying in the road, & one of them said— ‘O dear! Here is a poor old washerwoman who has fainted in the road! Perhaps she is overcome by the heat, poor thing, or perhaps she has not had enough food! Anyhow, let us lift her into the motor-car & take her to the nearest village.’

  So they tenderly lifted the toad into the motor-car & propped him up on the cushions, & started off. When the toad heard them talk in that kind way, & knew that he was not recognized, his courage began to revive, & he opened one of his eyes. Then one of the gentlemen said: ‘See, she is better already! The fresh air is doing her good! How do you feel now, washerwoman?’

  The toad answered in a feeble voice, ‘Thank you kindly, Sir, I’m feeling rather better. I think if I might sit on the front seat, beside the chauffeur, where I could get more air, I should soon be quite right again.’