The Wind in the Willows

The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, springSPRING-cleaning his little home. First with broomsBROOMZ, then with dustersDUS-terz. Then on laddersLAD-erz and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pailPAYL of whitewashWY-twahsh. Till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashesSPLASH-iz of whitewashWY-twahsh all over his black fur, and an achingAY-king backBAK and weary arms. SpringSPRING was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating evenEE-vin his dark and lowlyLOH-lee little houseHOWS with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said “Bother!” and “O blow!” and also “Hang springSPRING-cleaning!” and boltedBOHL-tuhd out of the houseHOWS without evenEE-vin waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously. 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 scrapedSKRAYPT and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged. Then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scrapedSKRAYPT, working busilyBIZ-uh-lee with his little paws and mutteringMUT-er-ing to himself, “Up we go! Up we go!” till at lastLAST, pop! his snoutSNOWT came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow.

“This is fineFYN!” he said to himself. “This is better than whitewashing!” The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft breezesBREE-ziz caressedker-EST his heated brow. After the seclusionsi-KLOOZH-uhn of the cellarage he had lived in so longLAWNG the carol of happy birds fell on his dulledDULD hearing almost likeLYK a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delightdi-LYT of springSPRING 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 bowledBOHLD over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuouskuhn-TEMP-choo-uhs Mole. Mole trottedTRAH-tid along the side of the hedge chaffing the other rabbits as they peepedPEEPT hurriedlyHER-eed-lee from their holes to see what the rowROH 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 grumblingGRUM-buh-ling 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 thitherTHITH-er through the meadows he rambledRAM-buhld busilyBIZ-uh-lee, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers buddingBUD-ing, leavesLEEVZ thrustingTHRUS-ting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him and whispering “whitewashWY-twahsh!” 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.

He thought his happiness was complete when, as he meanderedmee-AN-derd aimlesslyAYM-luh-slee along, suddenly he stood by the edge of a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before—this sleek, sinuousSIN-wuhs, full-bodied animal, chasing and chucklingCHUK-ling, gripping things with a gurgleGER-guhl and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on fresh playmatesPLAY-mayts that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiverSHIV-er—glints and gleamsGLEEMZ and sparklesSPAR-kuhlz, rustleRUS-uhl and swirlSWERL, chatter and bubble. The Mole was bewitchedbi-WICHT, entrancedin-TRANST, fascinated. By the side of the river he trottedTRAH-tid as one trotsTRAHTS, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spell-bound by exciting stories. And when tired at lastLAS, he sat on the bankBANGK, while the river stillSTIL chattered on to him, a babblingBAB-uh-ling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at lastLAST to the insatiablein-SAY-shuh-buhl sea.