apples around, of the browning nuts, of jams and preserves and the
distilling of cordials; till by easy stages such as these he reached
midwinter, its hearty joys and its snug home life, and then he became
simply lyrical.

By degrees the Rat began to sit up and to join in. His dull eye
brightened, and he lost some of his listening air.

Presently the tactful Mole slipped away and returned with a pencil and
a few half-sheets of paper, which he placed on the table at his
friend's elbow.

"It's quite a long time since you did any poetry," he remarked. "You
might have a try at it this evening, instead of--well, brooding over
things so much. I've an idea that you'll feel a lot better when you've
got something jotted down--if it's only just the rhymes."

The Rat pushed the paper away from him wearily, but the discreet Mole
took occasion to leave the room, and when he peeped in again some time
later, the Rat was absorbed and deaf to the world; alternately
scribbling and sucking the top of his pencil. It is true that he
sucked a good deal more than he scribbled; but it was joy to the Mole
to know that the cure had at least begun.

X

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF TOAD

The front door of the hollow tree faced eastwards, so Toad was called
at an early hour; partly by the bright sunlight streaming in on him,
partly by the exceeding coldness of his toes, which made him dream
that he was at home in bed in his own handsome room with the Tudor
window, on a cold winter's night, and his bed-clothes had got up,
grumbling and protesting they couldn't stand the cold any longer, and
had run downstairs to the kitchen fire to warm themselves; and he had
followed, on bare feet, along miles and miles of icy stone-paved
passages, arguing and beseeching them to be reasonable. He would
probably have been aroused much earlier, had he not slept for some
weeks on straw over stone flags, and almost forgotten the friendly
feeling of thick blankets pulled well up round the chin.

Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes first and his complaining toes next,
wondered for a moment where he was, looking round for familiar stone wall
and little barred window; then, with a leap of the heart, remembered
everything--his escape, his flight, his pursuit; remembered, first and
best thing of all, that he was free!

Free! The word and the thought alone were worth fifty blankets. He was
warm from end to end as he thought of the jolly world outside, waiting
ea