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‘SENSIBLE Mole！ The very thing！ Now we shall be able to mull some ale！
Get the things ready； Mole； while I draw the corks。'
It did not take long to prepare the brew and thrust the tin heater well
into the red heart of the fire； and soon every field… mouse was sipping and
coughing and choking （for a little mulled ale goes a long way） and wiping
his eyes and laughing and forgetting he had ever been cold in all his life。
‘They act plays too； these fellows；' the Mole explained to the Rat。
‘Make them up all by themselves； and act them afterwards。 And very well
they do it； too！ They gave us a capital one last year； about a field…mouse
who was captured at sea by a Barbary corsair； and made to row in a galley；
and when he escaped and got home again； his lady…love had gone into a
convent。 Here； YOU！ You were in it； I remember。 Get up and recite a bit。'
The field…mouse addressed got up on his legs； giggled shyly； looked
round the room； and remained absolutely tongue…tied。 His comrades
cheered him on； Mole coaxed and encouraged him； and the Rat went so far
as to take him by the shoulders and shake him； but nothing could
overcome his stage…fright。 They were all busily engaged on him like
watermen applying the Royal Humane Society's regulations to a case of
long submersion； when the latch clicked； the door opened； and the field…
mouse with the lantern reappeared； staggering under the weight of his
basket。
There was no more talk of play…acting once the very real and solid
contents of the basket had been tumbled out on the table。 Under the
generalship of Rat； everybody was set to do something or to fetch
something。 In a very few minutes supper was ready； and Mole； as he took
the head of the table in a sort of a dream； saw a lately barren board set
thick with savoury comforts； saw his little friends' faces brighten and
beam as they fell to without delay； and then let himself loosefor he was
famished indeedon the provender so magically provided； thinking what a
happy home…coming this had turned out； after all。 As they ate； they talked
of old times； and the field…mice gave him the local gossip up to date； and
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answered as well as they could the hundred questions he had to ask them。
The Rat said little or nothing； only taking care that each guest had what he
wanted； and plenty of it； and that Mole had no trouble or anxiety about
anything。
They clattered off at last； very grateful and showering wishes of the
season； with their jacket pockets stuffed with remembrances for the small
brothers and sisters at home。 When the door had closed on the last of them
and the chink of the lanterns had died away； Mole and Rat kicked the fire
up； drew their chairs in； brewed themselves a last nightcap of mulled ale；
and discussed the events of the long day。 At last the Rat； with a
tremendous yawn； said； ‘Mole； old chap； I'm ready to drop。 Sleepy is
simply not the word。 That your own bunk over on that side？ Very well；
then； I'll take this。 What a ripping little house this is！ Everything so
handy！'
He clambered into his bunk and rolled himself well up in the blankets；
and slumber gathered him forthwith； as a swathe of barley is folded into
the arms of the reaping machine。
The weary Mole also was glad to turn in without delay； and soon had
his head on his pillow； in great joy and contentment。 But ere he closed his
eyes he let them wander round his old room； mellow in the glow of the
firelight that played or rested on familiar and friendly things which had
long been unconsciously a part of him； and now smilingly received him
back； without rancour。 He was now in just the frame of mind that the
tactful Rat had quietly worked to bring about in him。 He saw clearly how
plain and simplehow narrow； evenit all was； but clearly； too； how much
it all meant to him； and the special value of some such anchorage in one's
existence。 He did not at all want to abandon the new life and its splendid
spaces； to turn his back on sun and air and all they offered him and creep
home and stay there； the upper world was all too strong； it called to him
still； even down there； and he knew he must return to the larger stage。 But
it was good to think he had this to come back to； this place which was all
his own； these things which were so glad to see him again and could
always be counted upon for the same simple welcome。
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THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS
CHAPTER VI
MR。 TOAD
It was a bright morning in the early part of summer； the river had
resumed its wonted banks and its accustomed pace； and a hot sun seemed
to be pulling everything green and bushy and spiky up out of the earth
towards him； as if by strings。 The Mole and the Water Rat had been up
since dawn； very busy on matters connected with boats and the opening of
the boating season； painting and varnishing； mending paddles； repairing
cushions； hunting for missing boat…hooks； and so on； and were finishing
breakfast in their little parlour and eagerly discussing their plans for the
day； when a heavy knock sounded at the door。
‘Bother！' said the Rat； all over egg。 ‘See who it is； Mole； like a good
chap； since you've finished。'
The Mole went to attend the summons； and the Rat heard him utter a
cry of surprise。 Then he flung the parlour door open； and announced with
much importance； ‘Mr。 Badger！'
This was a wonderful thing； indeed； that the Badger should pay a
formal call on them； or indeed on anybody。 He generally had to be caught；
if you wanted him badly； as he slipped quietly along a hedgerow of an
early morning or a late evening； or else hunted up in his own house in the
middle of the Wood； which was a serious undertaking。
The Badger strode heavily into the room； and stood looking at the two
animals with an expression full of seriousness。 The Rat let his egg…spoon
fall on the table…cloth； and sat open…mouthed。
‘The hour has come！' said the Badger at last with great solemnity。
‘What hour？' asked the Rat uneasily； glancing at t