THE RIVER BANK
THE Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush
and a pail of whitewash; till
he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur
, and an aching
back and weary
arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth
below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit
of divine discontent
. It was small wonder
, then, that he suddenly
flung down his brush
on the floor, said, "Bother!" and "O blow!" and also "Hang spring-cleaning!" and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously
, and he made for the steep
little tunnel which answered in his case to the gravelled carriage-drive owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged, and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, "Up we go! Up we go!" till
at last, pop! his snout
came out into the sunlight and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow
"This is fine!" he said to himself. "This is better than whitewashing!" The sunshine struck hot on his fur
, soft breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion
of the cellarage he had lived in so long the carol
of happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delight
of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till
he reached the hedge
on the further side.
"Hold up!" said an elderly
rabbit at the gap
. "Sixpence for the privilege
of passing by the private
road!" He was bowled over in an instant
by the impatient
Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge
chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. "Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!" he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory
reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. "How stupid you are! Why didn't you tell him-" "Well, why didn't you say-" "You might
have reminded him-" and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then much too late, as is always the case.
It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through
the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding
, leaves thrusting-everything happy, and progressive
, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience
pricking him and whispering "whitewash!" he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to be the only idle
dog among all these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday
is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.
when, as he meandered aimlessly
he stood by the edge
of a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before-this sleek
, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle
and leaving them with a laugh, to fling
itself on fresh
playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiver-glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle
and bubble. The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated
. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spellbound by exciting stories; and when tired
at last, he sat on the bank
, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession
of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart
of the earth
to be told at last to the insatiable
As he sat on the grass and looked across the river, a dark hole in the bank opposite
, just above the water's edge
, caught his eye, and dreamily he fell to considering what a nice, snug
dwelling-place it would make for an animal with few wants and fond
of a bijou riverside residence
, above flood level
from noise and dust. As he gazed, something bright and small seemed to twinkle down in the heart
of it, vanished, then twinkled once more like a tiny
star. But it could hardly be a star in such an unlikely situation
; and it was too glittering and small for a glow-worm. Then, as he looked, it winked at him, and so declared itself to be an eye; and a small face began gradually to grow up round it, like a frame round a picture.
A brown little face, with whiskers.
round face, with the same twinkle in its eye that had first attracted his notice
Small neat ears and thick silky
It was the Water Rat!
Then the two animals stood and regarded each other cautiously.
"Hullo, Mole!" said the Water Rat.
"Hullo, Rat!" said the Mole.
"Would you like to come over?" enquired the Rat presently
"Oh, it's all very well to talk," said the Mole rather pettishly, he being new to a river and riverside life and its ways.
The Rat said nothing, but stooped and unfastened a rope and hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little boat which the Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for two animals; and the Mole's whole heart
went out to it at once, even though he did not yet fully understand
The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up his fore-paw
as the Mole stepped gingerly
down. "Lean on that!" he said. "Now then, step lively
!" and the Mole to his surprise
found himself actually
seated in the stern
of a real boat.
"This has been a wonderful
day!" said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. "Do you know, I've never been in a boat before in all my life."
It was the Water Rat It was the Water Rat
"What?" cried the Rat, open-mouthed: "Never been in a-you never-well I-what have you been doing, then?"
"Is it so nice as all that?" asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating
fittings, and felt the boat sway
lightly under him.
"Nice? It's the only thing," said the Water Rat solemnly
as he leant forward
for his stroke
. "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing-absolute nothing-half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing," he went on dreamily: "messing-about-in-boats; messing-"
"Look ahead, Rat!" cried the Mole suddenly
It was too late. The boat struck the bank
. The dreamer, the joyous
oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air.
"-about in boats-or with boats," the Rat went on composedly
, picking himself up with a pleasant
laugh. "In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter
. Nothing seems really to matter
, that's the charm
of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive
at your destination
or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in particular
; and when you've done it there's always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not. Look here! If you've really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop
down the river together, and have a long day of it?"
The Mole waggled his toes from sheer happiness
his chest with a sigh
of full contentment
, and leant back blissfully into the soft cushions. "What a day I'm having!" he said. "Let us start at once!"
"Hold hard a minute
, then!" said the Rat. He looped the painter through
a ring in his landing-stage, climbed up into his hole above, and after a short interval
under a fat wicker luncheon-basket.
"Shove that under your feet," he observed to the Mole, as he passed it down into the boat. Then he untied the painter and took the sculls again.
"What's inside it?" asked the Mole, wriggling with curiosity
"There's cold chicken inside it," replied the Rat briefly:
"O stop, stop!" cried the Mole in ecstasies. "This is too much!"
"Do you really think so?" enquired the Rat seriously. "It's only what I always take on these little excursions; and the other animals are always telling me that I'm a mean beast
and cut it very fine!"
The Mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle
, the ripple
, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight, he trailed a paw
in the water and dreamed long waking dreams. The Water Rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily
on and forbore to disturb
"I like your clothes awfully, old chap
," he remarked after some half an hour or so had passed. "I'm going to get a black velvet
smoking-suit myself some day, as soon as I can afford
"I beg your pardon
," said the Mole, pulling himself together with an effort
. "You must think me very rude
; but all this is so new to me. So-this-is-a-River!"
"The River," corrected the Rat.
"And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!"
"By it and with it and on it and in it," said the Rat. "It's brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It's my world, and I don't want any other. What it hasn't got is not worth having, and what it doesn't know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we've had together! Whether in winter or summer, spring or autumn
, it's always got its fun and its excitements. When the floods are on in February, and my cellars and basement are brimming with drink that's no good to me, and the brown water runs by my best bedroom window; or again when it all drops away and shows patches of mud that smells like plum-cake, and the rushes and weed clog
the channels, and I can potter
about dry shod over most of the bed of it and find fresh
food to eat, and things careless
people have dropped out of boats!"
"But isn't it a bit dull
at times?" the Mole ventured to ask. "Just you and the river, and no one else to pass a word with?"
"No one else to-well, I mustn't be hard on you," said the Rat with forbearance
. "You're new to it, and of course you don't know. The bank
is so crowded nowadays that many people are moving away altogether. O no, it isn't what it used to be, at all. Otters, king-fishers, dabchicks, moorhens, all of them about all day long and always wanting you to do something-as if a fellow had no business of his own to attend
"What lies over there?" asked the Mole, waving a paw
towards a background
of woodland that darkly framed the water-meadows on one side of the river.
"That? O, that's just the Wild Wood," said the Rat shortly. "We don't go there very much, we river-bankers."
"Aren't they-aren't they very nice people in there?" said the Mole a trifle
"W-e-ll," replied the Rat, "let me see. The squirrels are all right
. And the rabbits-some of 'em, but rabbits are a mixed lot. And then there's Badger, of course. He lives right
in the heart
of it; wouldn't live anywhere else, either, if you paid him to do it. Dear old Badger! Nobody interferes with him. They'd better not," he added significantly.
"Why, who should interfere
with him?" asked the Mole.
"Well, of course-there-are others," explained the Rat in a hesitating sort of way. "Weasels-and stoats-and foxes-and so on. They're all right
in a way-I'm very good friends with them-pass the time of day when we meet, and all that-but they break out sometimes, there's no denying it, and then-well, you can't really trust
them, and that's the fact
The Mole knew well that it is quite against animal-etiquette to dwell
trouble ahead, or even to allude
to it; so he dropped the subject
"And beyond the Wild Wood again?" he asked; "where it's all blue and dim
, and one sees what may be hills or perhaps they mayn't, and something like the smoke of towns, or is it only cloud-drift?"
"Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wide World," said the Rat. "And that's something that doesn't matter
, either to you or me. I've never been there, and I'm never going, nor you either, if you've got any sense at all. Don't ever refer
to it again, please. Now then! Here's our backwater at last, where we're going to lunch."
Leaving the main stream
, they now passed into what seemed at first sight
like a little landlocked lake. Green turf
sloped down to either edge
, brown snaky tree-roots gleamed below the surface
of the quiet water, while ahead of them the silvery shoulder and foamy tumble
of a weir, arm-in-arm with a restless
dripping mill-wheel, that held up in its turn a grey-gabled mill-house, filled the air with a soothing murmur
and smothery, yet with little clear voices speaking up cheerfully out of it at intervals. It was so very beautiful that the Mole could only hold up both fore-paws and gasp
: "O my! O my! O my!"
The Rat brought the boat alongside the bank
, made her fast, helped the still awkward
Mole safely ashore
, and swung out the luncheon-basket. The Mole begged as a favour to be allowed to unpack
it all by himself; and the Rat was very pleased to indulge
him, and to sprawl
at full length
on the grass and rest, while his excited friend shook out the table-cloth and spread
it, took out all the mysterious
packets one by one and arranged their contents in due order, still gasping: "O my! O my!" at each fresh revelation
. When all was ready, the Rat said, "Now, pitch
in, old fellow!" and the Mole was indeed very glad to obey
, for he had started his spring-cleaning at a very early hour that morning, as people will do, and had not paused for bite or sup; and he had been through
a very great deal since that distant
time which now seemed so many days ago.
"What are you looking at?" said the Rat presently
, when the edge
of their hunger was somewhat dulled, and the Mole's eyes were able
off the table-cloth a little.
"I am looking," said the Mole, "at a streak
of bubbles that I see travelling along the surface
of the water. That is a thing that strikes me as funny."
"Bubbles? Oho!" said the Rat, and chirruped cheerily in an inviting sort of way.
showed itself above the edge
of the bank
, and the Otter hauled himself out and shook the water from his coat.
"Greedy beggars!" he observed, making for the provender
. "Why didn't you invite me, Ratty?"
"This was an impromptu affair
," explained the Rat. "By the way-my friend Mr. Mole."
"Proud, I'm sure," said the Otter, and the two animals were friends forthwith.
"Such a rumpus
everywhere!" continued the Otter. "All the world seems out on the river to-day. I came up this backwater to try and get a moment
's peace, and then stumble
upon you fellows!-At least-I beg pardon
-I don't exactly mean
that, you know."
There was a rustle
behind them, proceeding from a hedge
wherein last year's leaves still clung thick, and a stripy head, with high shoulders behind it, peered forth on them.
"Come on, old Badger!" shouted the Rat.
The Badger trotted forward
or two, then grunted, "H'm! Company," and turned his back and disappeared from view.
"That's just the sort of fellow he is!" observed the disappointed
Rat. "Simply hates Society! Now we shan't see any more of him to-day. Well, tell us, who's out on the river?"
"Toad's out, for one," replied the Otter. "In his brand-new wager-boat; new togs, new everything!"
The two animals looked at each other and laughed.
"Once, it was nothing but sailing," said the Rat. "Then he tired
of that and took to punting. Nothing would please him but to punt
all day and every day, and a nice mess he made of it. Last year it was house-boating, and we all had to go and stay with him in his house-boat, and pretend
we liked it. He was going to spend the rest of his life in a house-boat. It's all the same, whatever he takes up; he gets tired
of it, and starts on something fresh
"Such a good fellow, too," remarked the Otter reflectively; "but no stability-especially in a boat!"
From where they sat they could get a glimpse
of the main stream
across the island
that separated them; and just then a wager-boat flashed into view, the rower-a short, stout
figure-splashing badly and rolling a good deal, but working his hardest. The Rat stood up and hailed him, but Toad-for it was he-shook his head and settled sternly to his work.
"He'll be out of the boat in a minute
if he rolls like that," said the Rat, sitting down again.
"Of course he will," chuckled the Otter. "Did I ever tell you that good story about Toad and the lock-keeper? It happened this way. Toad...."
May-fly swerved unsteadily athwart
in the intoxicated fashion affected
by young bloods of May-flies seeing life. A swirl
of water and a "cloop!" and the May-fly was visible
Neither was the Otter.
The Mole looked down. The voice was still in his ears, but the turf
whereon he had sprawled was clearly vacant
. Not an Otter to be seen, as far as the distant horizon
But again there was a streak
of bubbles on the surface
of the river.
The Rat hummed a tune, and the Mole recollected that animal-etiquette forbade any sort of on the sudden disappearance of one's friends at any moment
, for any reason
or no reason
"Well, well," said the Rat, "I suppose
we ought to be moving. I wonder
which of us had better pack the luncheon-basket?" He did not speak as if he was frightfully eager
for the treat.
"O, please let me," said the Mole. So, of course, the Rat let him.
Packing the basket was not quite such pleasant
work as unpacking the basket. It never is. But the Mole was bent
on enjoying everything, and although just when he had got the basket packed and strapped up tightly he saw a plate
staring up at him from the grass, and when the job
had been done again the Rat pointed out a fork which anybody ought to have seen, and last of all, behold
! the mustard pot, which he had been sitting on without knowing it-still, somehow, the thing got finished at last, without much loss of temper
The afternoon sun was getting low as the Rat sculled gently homewards in a dreamy mood
, murmuring poetry-things over to himself, and not paying much attention
to Mole. But the Mole was very full of lunch, and self-satisfaction, and pride
, and already quite at home in a boat (so he thought
), and was getting a bit restless
besides: and presently
he said, "Ratty! Please, I want to row, now!"
The Rat shook his head with a smile. "Not yet, my young friend," he said; "wait till
you've had a few lessons. It's not so easy as it looks."
The Mole was quiet for a minute
or two. But he began to feel more and more jealous
of Rat, sculling so strongly and so easily along, and his pride
began to whisper
that he could do it every bit as well. He jumped up and seized the sculls so suddenly
that the Rat, who was gazing out over the water and saying more poetry-things to himself, was taken by surprise
and fell backwards off his seat with his legs in the air for the second time, while the triumphant
Mole took his place and grabbed the sculls with entire confidence
"Stop it, you silly ass!" cried the Rat, from the bottom of the boat. "You can't do it! You'll have us over!"
The Mole flung his sculls back with a flourish
, and made a great dig at the water. He missed the surface
altogether, his legs flew up above his head, and he found himself lying on the top of the prostrate
Rat. Greatly alarmed, he made a grab
at the side of the boat, and the next moment
Over went the boat, and he found himself struggling in the river.
O my, how cold the water was, and O, how very wet it felt! How it sang in his ears as he went down, down, down! How bright and welcome the sun looked as he rose to the surface
coughing and spluttering! How black was his despair
when he felt himself sinking again! Then a firm paw
gripped him by the back of his neck. It was the Rat, and he was evidently laughing-the Mole could feel him laughing, right
down his arm and through
, and so into his-the Mole's-neck.
The Rat got hold of a scull and shoved it under the Mole's arm; then he did the same by the other side of him and, swimming behind, propelled the helpless animal to shore
, hauled him out, and set him down on the bank
, a squashy, pulpy lump
When the Rat had rubbed him down a bit, and wrung some of the wet out of him, he said, "Now then, old fellow! Trot up and down the towing-path as hard as you can, till
you're warm and dry again, while I dive
for the luncheon-basket."
So the dismal
Mole, wet without and ashamed
within, trotted about till
he was fairly dry, while the Rat plunged into the water again, recovered the boat, righted her and made her fast, fetched his floating property
by degrees, and finally dived successfully
for the luncheon-basket and struggled to land with it.
When all was ready for a start once more, the Mole, limp
, took his seat in the stern
of the boat; and as they set off, he said in a low voice, broken with emotion
, "Ratty, my generous
friend! I am very sorry indeed for my foolish
and ungrateful conduct
. My heart
quite fails me when I think how I might
that beautiful luncheon-basket. Indeed, I have been a complete
ass, and I know it. Will you overlook
it this once and forgive me, and let things go on as before?"
"That's all right
, bless you!" responded the Rat cheerily. "What's a little wet to a Water Rat? I'm more in the water than out of it most days. Don't you think any more about it; and look here! I really think you had better come and stop with me for a little time. It's very plain
and rough, you know-not like Toad's house at all-but you haven't seen that yet; still, I can make you comfortable
. And I'll teach you to row and to swim, and you'll soon be as handy on the water as any of us."
The Mole was so touched by his kind manner of speaking that he could find no voice to answer him; and he had to brush
away a tear or two with the back of his paw
. But the Rat kindly looked in another direction
, and presently
the Mole's spirits revived again, and he was even able
to give some straight
back-talk to a couple
of moorhens who were sniggering to each other about his bedraggled appearance
When they got home, the Rat made a bright fire in the parlour, and planted the Mole in an arm-chair in front of it, having fetched down a dressing-gown and slippers for him, and told him river stories till
supper-time. Very thrilling stories they were, too, to an earth
-dwelling animal like Mole. Stories about weirs, and sudden floods, and leaping pike
, and steamers that flung hard bottles-at least bottles were certainly
flung, and from steamers, so presumably
by them; and about herons, and how particular
they were whom they spoke
to; and about adventures down drains, and night-fishings with Otter, or excursions far a-field with Badger. Supper was a most cheerful meal; but very shortly afterwards a terribly sleepy Mole had to be escorted upstairs by his considerate host
, to the best bedroom, where he soon laid his head on his pillow in great peace and contentment
, knowing that his new-found friend, the River, was lapping the sill of his window.
This day was only the first of many similar
ones for the emancipated
Mole, each of them longer and full of interest
as the ripening summer moved onward. He learnt to swim and to row, and entered into the joy of running water; and with his ear to the reed-stems he caught, at intervals, something of what the wind went whispering so constantly among them.