The Kenneth Grahame Megapack

by Kenneth Grahame

  “It’s as well to be on the safe side,” said the Rat reflectively, polishing a pistol-barrel on his sleeve and looking along it.

  The Toad, having finished his breakfast, picked up a stout stick and swung it vigorously, belabouring imaginary animals. “I’ll learn ’em to steal my house!” he cried. “I’ll learn ’em, I’ll learn ’em!”

  “Don’t say ‘learn ’em,’ Toad,” said the Rat, greatly shocked. “It’s not good English.”

  “What are you always nagging at Toad for?” inquired the Badger, rather peevishly. “What’s the matter with his English? It’s the same what I use myself, and if it’s good enough for me, it ought to be good enough for you!”

  “I’m very sorry,” said the Rat humbly. “Only I think it ought to be ‘teach ’em,’ not ‘learn ’em.’”

  “But we don’t want to teach ’em,” replied the Badger. “We want to learn ’em—learn ’em, learn ’em! And what’s more, we’re going to do it, too!”

  “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 look-out, 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 Die-hards, 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 every one 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 arm-chair, 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?

  CHAPTER XII

  THE RETURN OF ULYSSES

  When it began to grow dark, the Rat, with an air of excitement and mystery, summoned them back into the parlour, stood each of them up alongside of his little heap, and proceeded to dress them up for the coming expedition. He was very earnest and thorough-going about it, and the affair took quite a long time. First, there was a belt to go round each animal, and then a sword to be stuck into each belt, and then a cutlass on the other side to balance it. Then a pair of pistols, a policeman’s truncheon, several sets of handcuffs, some bandages and sticking-plaster, and a flask and a sandwich-case. The Badger laughed good-humouredly and said, “All right, Ratty! It amuses you and it doesn’t hurt me. I’m going to do all I’ve got to do with this here stick.” But the Rat only said, “Please, Badger. You know I shouldn’t like you to blame me afterwards and say I had forgotten anything!”

  When all was quite ready, the Badger took a dark lantern in one paw, grasped his great stick with the other, and said, “Now then, follow me! Mole first, ’cos I’m very pleased with him; Rat next; Toad last. And look here, Toady! Don’t you chatter so much as usual, or you’ll be sent back, as sure as fate!”

  The Toad was so anxious not to be left out that he took up the inferior position assigned to him without a murmur, and the animals set off. The Badger led them along by the river for a little way, and then suddenly swung himself over the edge into a hole in the river bank, a little above the water. The Mole and the Rat followed silently, s
winging themselves successfully into the hole as they had seen the Badger do; but when it came to Toad’s turn, of course he managed to slip and fall into the water with a loud splash and a squeal of alarm. He was hauled out by his friends, rubbed down and wrung out hastily, comforted, and set on his legs; but the Badger was seriously angry, and told him that the very next time he made a fool of himself he would most certainly be left behind.

  So at last they were in the secret passage, and the cutting-out expedition had really begun!

  It was cold, and dark, and damp, and low, and narrow, and poor Toad began to shiver, partly from dread of what might be before him, partly because he was wet through. The lantern was far ahead, and he could not help lagging behind a little in the darkness. Then he heard the Rat call out warningly, “Come on, Toad!” and a terror seized him of being left behind, alone in the darkness, and he “came on” with such a rush that he upset the Rat into the Mole, and the Mole into the Badger, and for a moment all was confusion. The Badger thought they were being attacked from behind, and, as there was no room to use a stick or a cutlass, drew a pistol, and was on the point of putting a bullet into Toad. When he found out what had really happened he was very angry indeed, and said, “Now this time that tiresome Toad shall be left behind!”

  But Toad whimpered, and the other two promised that they would be answerable for his good conduct, and at last the Badger was pacified, and the procession moved on; only this time the Rat brought up the rear, with a firm grip on the shoulder of Toad.

  So they groped and shuffled along, with their ears pricked up and their paws on their pistols, till at last the Badger said, “We ought by now to be pretty nearly under the Hall.”

  Then suddenly they heard, far away as it might be, and yet apparently nearly over their heads, a confused murmur of sound, as if people were shouting and cheering and stamping on the floor and hammering on tables. The Toad’s nervous terrors all returned, but the Badger only remarked placidly, “They are going it, the weasels!”

  The passage now began to slope upwards; they groped onward a little further, and then the noise broke out again, quite distinct this time, and very close above them. “Ooo-ray-oo-ray-oo-ray-ooray!” they heard, and the stamping of little feet on the floor, and the clinking of glasses as little fists pounded on the table. “What a time they’re having!” said the Badger. “Come on!” They hurried along the passage till it came to a full stop, and they found themselves standing under the trap-door that led up into the butler’s pantry.

  Such a tremendous noise was going on in the banqueting-hall that there was little danger of their being overheard. The Badger said, “Now, boys, all together!” and the four of them put their shoulders to the trap-door and heaved it back. Hoisting each other up, they found themselves standing in the pantry, with only a door between them and the banqueting-hall, where their unconscious enemies were carousing.

  The noise, as they emerged from the passage, was simply deafening. At last, as the cheering and hammering slowly subsided, a voice could be made out saying, “Well, I do not propose to detain you much longer”—(great applause)—“but before I resume my seat”—(renewed cheering)—“I should like to say one word about our kind host, Mr. Toad. We all know Toad!”—(great laughter)—“Good Toad, modest Toad, honest Toad!” (shrieks of merriment).

  “Only just let me get at him!” muttered Toad, grinding his teeth.

  “Hold hard a minute!” said the Badger, restraining him with difficulty. “Get ready, all of you!”

  “—Let me sing you a little song,” went on the voice, “which I have composed on the subject of Toad”—(prolonged applause).

  Then the Chief Weasel—for it was he—began in a high, squeaky voice—

  “Toad he went a-pleasuring

  Gaily down the street—”

  The Badger drew himself up, took a firm grip of his stick with both paws, glanced round at his comrades, and cried—

  “The hour is come! Follow me!”

  And flung the door open wide.

  My! What a squealing and a squeaking and a screeching filled the air!

  Well might the terrified weasels dive under the tables and spring madly up at the windows! Well might the ferrets rush wildly for the fireplace and get hopelessly jammed in the chimney! Well might tables and chairs be upset, and glass and china be sent crashing on the floor, in the panic of that terrible moment when the four Heroes strode wrathfully into the room! The mighty Badger, his whiskers bristling, his great cudgel whistling through the air; Mole, black and grim, brandishing his stick and shouting his awful war-cry, “A Mole! A Mole!” Rat, desperate and determined, his belt bulging with weapons of every age and every variety; Toad, frenzied with excitement and injured pride, swollen to twice his ordinary size, leaping into the air and emitting Toad-whoops that chilled them to the marrow! “Toad he went a-pleasuring!” he yelled. “I’ll pleasure ’em!” and he went straight for the Chief Weasel. They were but four in all, but to the panic-stricken weasels the hall seemed full of monstrous animals, grey, black, brown and yellow, whooping and flourishing enormous cudgels; and they broke and fled with squeals of terror and dismay, this way and that, through the windows, up the chimney, anywhere to get out of reach of those terrible sticks.

  The affair was soon over. Up and down, the whole length of the hall, strode the four Friends, whacking with their sticks at every head that showed itself; and in five minutes the room was cleared. Through the broken windows the shrieks of terrified weasels escaping across the lawn were borne faintly to their ears; on the floor lay prostrate some dozen or so of the enemy, on whom the Mole was busily engaged in fitting handcuffs. The Badger, resting from his labours, leant on his stick and wiped his honest brow.

  “Mole,” he said, “you’re the best of fellows! Just cut along outside and look after those stoat-sentries of yours, and see what they’re doing. I’ve an idea that, thanks to you, we shan’t have much trouble from them tonight!”

  The Mole vanished promptly through a window; and the Badger bade the other two set a table on its legs again, pick up knives and forks and plates and glasses from the débris on the floor, and see if they could find materials for a supper. “I want some grub, I do,” he said, in that rather common way he had of speaking. “Stir your stumps, Toad, and look lively! We’ve got your house back for you, and you don’t offer us so much as a sandwich.”

  Toad felt rather hurt that the Badger didn’t say pleasant things to him, as he had to the Mole, and tell him what a fine fellow he was, and how splendidly he had fought; for he was rather particularly pleased with himself and the way he had gone for the Chief Weasel and sent him flying across the table with one blow of his stick. But he bustled about, and so did the Rat, and soon they found some guava jelly in a glass dish, and a cold chicken, a tongue that had hardly been touched, some trifle, and quite a lot of lobster salad; and in the pantry they came upon a basketful of French rolls and any quantity of cheese, butter, and celery. They were just about to sit down when the Mole clambered in through the window, chuckling, with an armful of rifles.

  “It’s all over,” he reported. “From what I can make out, as soon as the stoats, who were very nervous and jumpy already, heard the shrieks and the yells and the uproar inside the hall, some of them threw down their rifles and fled. The others stood fast for a bit, but when the weasels came rushing out upon them they thought they were betrayed; and the stoats grappled with the weasels, and the weasels fought to get away, and they wrestled and wriggled and punched each other, and rolled over and over, till most of ’em rolled into the river! They’ve all disappeared by now, one way or another; and I’ve got their rifles. So that’s all right!”

  “Excellent and deserving animal!” said the Badger, his mouth full of chicken and trifle. “Now, there’s just one more thing I want you to do, Mole, before you sit down to your supper along of us; and I wouldn’t
trouble you only I know I can trust you to see a thing done, and I wish I could say the same of every one I know. I’d send Rat, if he wasn’t a poet. I want you to take those fellows on the floor there upstairs with you, and have some bedrooms cleaned out and tidied up and made really comfortable. See that they sweep under the beds, and put clean sheets and pillow-cases on, and turn down one corner of the bed-clothes, just as you know it ought to be done; and have a can of hot water, and clean towels, and fresh cakes of soap, put in each room. And then you can give them a licking a-piece, if it’s any satisfaction to you, and put them out by the back-door, and we shan’t see any more of them, I fancy. And then come along and have some of this cold tongue. It’s first rate. I’m very pleased with you, Mole!”

  The good-natured Mole picked up a stick, formed his prisoners up in a line on the floor, gave them the order “Quick march!” and led his squad off to the upper floor. After a time, he appeared again, smiling, and said that every room was ready and as clean as a new pin. “And I didn’t have to lick them, either,” he added. “I thought, on the whole, they had had licking enough for one night, and the weasels, when I put the point to them, quite agreed with me, and said they wouldn’t think of troubling me. They were very penitent, and said they were extremely sorry for what they had done, but it was all the fault of the Chief Weasel and the stoats, and if ever they could do anything for us at any time to make up, we had only got to mention it. So I gave them a roll a-piece, and let them out at the back, and off they ran, as hard as they could!”