The Wind In The Willows – A Bedtime Story For Kids-Pt 3

It’s Sleep Story time again with a classic story about the friendship and adventures of four special animals Mole, Rat, Toad and Badger. The book is called “The Wind in the Willows” and it was written by Kenneth Grahame. This story was requested by an Insight Timer listener. Let’s continue the adventure now with part 3 and let’s start enjoying our journey to learn about friendship, adventure and the gift of helping others.
Ending Music from Freesound-SweetDreams

Transcript

Hi,

This is Stefania and we're back with The Wind in the Willows.

This chapter is The Open Road.

Ratty,

The mole said suddenly one bright summer morning,

If you please,

I want to ask you a favor.

The rat was sitting on the riverbank,

Singing a little song he had just composed himself.

So he was very taken up with it.

And would not pay proper attention to mole or anything else.

Since early morning,

He had been swimming in the river in company with his friends,

The ducks.

And when the ducks stood on their heads,

Suddenly,

As ducks will,

He would dive down and tickle their necks just under where their chins would be,

If ducks had chins.

Till they were forced to come to the surface again in a hurry,

Spluttering and angry and shaking their feathers at him.

For it is impossible to say quite all you feel when your head is underwater.

At last,

They implored him to go away and attend to his own affairs and leave them to mind theirs.

So the rat went away and sat on the riverbank in the sun and made up a song about them,

Which he called Ducks Ditty.

All along the backwater,

Through the rushes tall,

Ducks are a-dabblin' up tails all.

Duck's tails,

Drake's tails,

Yellow feet a-quiver.

Yellow bills all out of sight,

Busy in the river.

Slushy green undergrowth where the roach swim.

Here we keep our ladder,

Cool and full and dim.

Everyone for what he likes.

We like to be.

Heads down,

Tails up,

Dabbling free.

High in the blue above,

Swift swirl and call.

We are down a-dabbling,

Up tails all.

I don't know that I think so very much of that little song rat,

Observed them all cautiously.

He was no poet himself and didn't care who knew it,

And he had a candid nature.

Nor do the ducks neither,

Replied the rat cheerfully.

They say,

Why can't fellows be allowed to do what they like,

When they like,

And as they like?

Instead of other fellows sitting on banks and watching them all the time and making remarks and poetry and things about them.

What nonsense it all is.

That's what the ducks say.

So it is,

So it is,

Said the mole with great heartiness.

No,

It isn't,

Cried the rat indignantly.

Well then,

It isn't,

It isn't,

Replied the mole soothingly.

But what I wanted to ask you was,

Won't you take me to call on Mr.

Toad?

I've heard so much about him and I do so want to make his acquaintance.

Why,

Certainly,

Said the good-natured rat,

Jumping to his feet and dismissing poetry from his mind for the day.

Get the boat out and we'll paddle up there at once.

It's never the wrong time to call on Toad.

Early or late,

He's always the same fellow.

Always good-tempered,

Always glad to see you,

Always sorry when you go.

He must be a very nice animal,

Observed the mole as he got into the boat and took the skulls while the rat settled himself comfortably in the stern.

He is indeed the best of animals,

Replied Rat,

So simple,

So good-natured,

And so affectionate.

Perhaps he's not very clever.

We can't all be geniuses.

And it may be that he is both boastful and conceited,

But he has got some great qualities,

Has Toadie.

Rounding a bend in the river,

They came in sight of a handsome,

Dignified old house of mellowed red brick,

With well-kept lawns reaching down to the water's edge.

There's Toad's hole,

Said the rat,

And that creek on the left,

Where the notice board says,

Private,

No landing allowed,

Leads to his boathouse,

Where we'll leave the boat.

The stables are over there to the right.

That's the banqueting hall you're looking at now.

Very old it is.

Toad is rather rich,

You know,

And this is really one of the nicest houses in these parts,

Though we never admit that much to Toad.

They glided up the creek,

And the mole shipped his skulls as they passed into the shadow of a large boathouse.

Here they saw many handsome boats slung from the crossbeams or hauled up on a slip,

But none in the water,

And the place had an unused and a deserted air.

The rat looked around him.

I understand,

Said he.

Boating is played out.

He's tired of it and done with it.

I wonder what new fat he has taken up now.

Come along and let's look him up.

We shall hear all about it quite soon enough.

They disembarked and strolled across the gay flower-decked lawns in search of Toad,

Whom they presently happened upon resting in a wicker garden chair with a preoccupied expression on his face and a large map spread out on his knees.

Hooray,

He cried jumping up on seeing them.

This is splendid.

He shook the paws of both of them warmly,

Never waiting for an introduction to the mole.

How kind of you.

He went on dancing round them.

I was just going to send a boat down the river for you,

Ratty,

With strict orders that you were to be fetched up here at once,

Whatever you were doing.

I want you badly,

Both of you.

Now,

What will you take?

Come inside and have something.

You don't know how lucky it is you're turning up just now.

Let's sit quiet a bit,

Toady,

Said the rat,

Throwing himself into an easy chair,

While the mole took another by the side of him and made some civil remark about Toad's delightful residence.

Finest house on the whole river,

Cried Toad boisterously,

Or anywhere else,

For that matter.

He cannot help adding,

Here,

The rat nudged the mole.

Unfortunately,

The Toad saw him do it and turned very red.

There was a moment's painful silence.

Then Toad burst out laughing.

All right,

Ratty,

He said,

It's only my way,

You know,

And it's not such a very bad house,

Is it?

You know,

You'd rather like it yourself.

Now,

Look here,

Let's be sensible.

You are the very animals I wanted.

You've got to help me.

It's most important.

It's about your rowing,

I suppose,

Said the rat with an innocent air.

You're getting on fairly well,

Though you splash a good bit still,

With a great deal of patience and any quantity of coaching you may owe.

Pooh!

Boating,

Interrupted the Toad in great disgust.

Silly boy's amusement.

I've given that up long ago.

Sheer waste of time,

That's what it is.

It makes me downright sorry to see you fellows,

Who ought to know better,

Spending all your energy in that aimless manner.

No,

I've discovered the real thing.

The only genuine occupation for a lifetime.

I propose to devote the remainder of mine to it and can only regret the wasted years that lie behind me,

Squandered in trivialities.

Come with me,

Dear ratty,

And your amiable friend as well.

If you be so very good,

Just as far as the stable yard and you shall see what you shall see.

He led the way to the stable yard accordingly,

The rat following with a most mistrustful expression.

And there,

Drawn out of the coach house into the open,

They saw a gypsy caravan,

Shining with newness,

Painted a canary yellow,

Picked out with green and red wheels.

There you are,

Cried the Toad,

Straddling and expanding himself.

There's real life for you embodied in that little cart.

The open road,

The dusty highway,

The heath,

The common,

The hedgerows,

The rolling downs,

Camps,

Villages,

Towns,

City,

Here today,

Up and off to somewhere else tomorrow.

Travel,

Change,

Interest,

Excitement.

The whole world before you,

An horizon that's always changing.

And mind,

This is the very finest cart of its sort that was ever built without any exception.

Come inside and look at the arrangements.

Planned them all myself,

I did.

The mole was tremendously interested and excited and followed him eagerly up the steps and into the interior of the caravan.

The rat only snorted and thrust his hands deep into his pockets,

Remaining where he was.

It was indeed very compact and comfortable.

Little sleeping bunks,

A little table that folded up against the wall,

A cooking stove,

Lockers,

Bookshelves,

A birdcage with a bird in it,

And pots,

Pans,

Jugs,

And kettles of every size and variety.

All complete,

Said the toad triumphantly,

Pulling open a locker.

You see,

Biscuits,

Potted lobster,

Sardines,

Everything you can possibly want.

Soda water here,

Backy there,

Letter paper,

Bacon,

Jam,

Cards,

And dominoes.

You'll find,

He continued as they descended the steps again,

You'll find that nothing,

Whatever,

Has been forgotten when we make our start this afternoon.

I beg your pardon,

Said the rat slowly as he chewed on a straw,

But did I overhear you say something about we?

And start?

And this afternoon?

No,

You dear,

Good,

Old ratty,

Said toad employingly,

Don't begin talking in that stiff and sniffy sort of way because you know you've got to come.

I can't possibly manage without you,

So please consider it settled and don't argue.

It's the one thing I can't stand.

You surely don't mean to stick to your dull,

Fusty old river all your life and just live in a hole in a bank and boat.

I want to show you the world.

I'm going to make an animal out of you,

My boy.

I don't care,

Said the rat doggedly.

I'm not coming.

And that's flat.

And I am going to stick to my old river and live in a hole and boat,

As I've always done.

And what's more,

Mole's going to stick to me and do as I do,

Aren't you,

Mole?

Of course I am,

Said the Mole loyally.

I'll always stick to you,

Rat,

And what you say is to be has got to be.

All the same,

It sounds as if it might have been,

Well,

Rather fun,

You know,

He added wistfully.

Poor Mole.

The life adventures was so new a thing to him and so thrilling,

And this fresh aspect of it was so tempting.

And he had fallen in love at first sight with the canary-colored cart and all its little fitments.

The Rat saw what was passing in his mind and wavered.

He hated disappointing people,

And he was fond of the Mole and would do almost anything to oblige him.

Toad was watching both of them closely.

Come on,

Come along in and have some lunch,

He said diplomatically,

And we'll talk it over.

We needn't decide anything in a hurry.

Of course,

I don't really care.

I only want to give pleasure to you fellows.

Live for others,

That's my motto in life.

During luncheon,

Which was excellent,

Of course,

As everything at Toad Hall always was,

The Toad simply let himself go.

Disregarding the Rat,

He proceeded to play upon the inexperienced Mole as on a harp.

Naturally a vulnerable animal and always mastered by his imagination,

He painted the prospects of the trip and the joys of the open life and the roadside in such glowing colors that Mole could hardly sit in his chair for excitement.

Somehow it soon seemed taken for granted by all three of them that the trip was a settled thing.

And the Rat,

Though still unconvinced in his mind,

Allowed his good nature to overwrite his personal objections.

He could not bear to disappoint his two friends,

Who were already deep in schemes and anticipations,

Planning out each day's separate occupation for several weeks ahead.

When they were quite ready,

The now triumphant Toad led his companions to the paddock and set them to capture the old Gray Horse,

Who,

Without having been consulted and to his own extreme annoyance,

Had been told off by Toad for the dustiest job in this dusty expedition.

He frankly preferred the paddock and took a great deal of catching.

Meanwhile,

Toad packed the lockers still tighter with necessities and hung nosebags,

Nets of onions,

Bundles of hay and baskets from the bottom of the cart.

At last the horse was caught and harnessed,

And they set off,

All talking at once,

Each animal either trudging by the side of the cart or sitting on the shaft as the humor took him.

It was a golden afternoon.

The smell of the dust they kicked up was rich and satisfying.

Out of thick orchards on either side of the road,

Birds called and whistled to them cheerily.

Good-natured wayfarers passing them gave them good day or stopped to say nice things about their beautiful cart.

And rabbits,

Sitting at their front doors in the hedgerows,

Held up their forepaws and said,

Oh my,

Oh my,

Oh my.

Late in the evening,

Tired and happy and miles from home,

They drew up on a remote common far from habitations,

Turned the horse loose to graze,

And ate their simple supper sitting on the grass by the side of the cart.

Toad talked big about all he was going to do in the days to come,

While the stars grew fuller and larger all around them.

And a yellow moon,

Appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular,

Came to keep them company and listen to their talk.

At last,

They turned into their little bunks in the cart,

And Toad,

Kicking out his legs,

Sleepily said,

Well,

Good night,

You fellows.

This is the real life for a gentleman.

Talk about your old river.

I don't talk about my river,

Replied the patient rat.

You know I don't,

Toad,

But I think about it,

He added pathetically in a lower tone.

I think about it all the time.

The mole reached out from under his blanket,

Felt for the rat's paw in the darkness,

And gave it a squeeze.

I'll do whatever you like,

Ratty,

He whispered.

Shall we run away tomorrow morning,

Quite early,

Very early,

And go back to our dear old hole on the river?

No,

No,

We'll see it out,

Whispered back the rat.

Thanks awfully,

But I ought to stick by Toad till this trip is ended.

It wouldn't be safe for him to be left to himself.

It won't take very long.

His faths never do.

Good night.

The end was indeed nearer than even the rat suspected.

That's the end of the first half of this chapter.

We'll be back again and see just what happened to Toad and his two friends.

Bye for now.