The Friends Sit Together

Chapter 9

‘The Mole and the Badger were sitting by the fire in the smoking-room, telling stories and suspecting nothing, for it wasn’t a night for any animals to be out in, when those bloodthirsty villains broke down the doors and rushed in upon them from every side. They made the best fight they could, but what was the good? They were unarmed, and taken by surprise, and what can two animals do against hundreds?
They took and beat them severely with sticks, those two poor faithful creatures, and turned them out into the cold and the wet, with many insulting and uncalled- for remarks!’
Here the unfeeling Toad broke into a snigger, and then pulled himself together and tried to look particularly solemn.
‘And the Wild Wooders have been living in Toad Hall ever since,’ continued the Rat, ‘and going on simply anyhow! Lying in bed half the day, and breakfast at all hours, and the place in such a mess that it’s not fit to be seen! Eating your grub, and drinking your drink, and making bad jokes about you, and singing vulgar songs, about—well, about prisons and magistrates, and policemen; horrid personal songs, with no humour in them. And they’re telling the tradespeople and everybody that they’ve come to stay for good.’
‘O, have they!’ said the Toad getting up and seizing a stick. ‘I’ll jolly soon see about that!’
‘It’s no good, Toad!’ called the Rat after him, ‘You’d better come back and sit down; you’ll only get into trouble.’
But the Toad was off, and there was no holding him. He marched rapidly down the road, his stick over his shoulder, fuming and muttering to himself in his anger, till he got near his front gate, when suddenly there popped up from behind the palings a long yellow ferret with a gun.
‘Who comes there?’ said the ferret sharply.
‘Stuff and nonsense!’ said the Toad, very angrily. ‘What do you mean by talking like that to me? Come out of that at once, or I’ll…’

The ferret said never a word, but he brought his gun up to his shoulder. Toad prudently dropped flat in the road, and BANG! a bullet whistled over his head.
The Toad retraced his weary way on foot, and related his disappointing experiences to the Water Rat once more.
‘Well, hat did I tell you?’ said the Rat very crossly. ‘And, now, look here! See what you’ve been and done! Lost me my boat that I was so fond of, that’s what you’ve done! And simply ruined that nice suit of clothes that I lent you! Really, Toad, of all the trying animals—I wonder you manage to keep any friends at all!’
The Rat remembered that poor Toad had been on prison fare for a considerable time, and that large allowances had therefore to be made. He followed him to the table accordingly, and hospitably encouraged him in his gallant efforts to make up for past privations.
They had just finished their meal and resumed their arm-chairs, when there came a heavy knock at the door.
The Toad was nervous, but the Rat, nodding mysteriously at him, went straight up to the door and opened it, and in walked Mr. Badger.
It was the Badger, who, having finished his pie, had turned round in his chair and was looking at them severely.
When he saw that he had secured their attention, and that they were evidently waiting for him to address them, he turned back to the table again and reached out for the cheese. And so great was the respect commanded by the solid qualities of that admirable animal, that not another word was uttered until he had quite finished his repast and brushed the crumbs from his knees. The Toad fidgeted a good deal, but the Rat held him firmly down.
When the Badger had quite done, he got up from his seat and stood before the fireplace, reflecting deeply.
‘I’ve found out a thing or two lately,’ continued the Badger, ‘I got the Otter to disguise himself as a sweep and call at the back- door with brushes over his shoulder, asking for a job. There’s going to be a big banquet to-morrow night. It’s somebody’s birthday—the Chief Weasel’s, I believe—and all the weasels will be gathered together in the dining-hall, eating and drinking and laughing and carrying on, suspecting nothing. No guns, no swords, no sticks, no arms of any sort whatever!’
‘But the sentinels will be posted as usual,’ remarked the Rat.
‘Exactly,’ said the Badger, ‘that is my point. The weasels will trust entirely to their excellent sentinels. And that is where the passage comes in. That very useful tunnel leads right up under the butler’s pantry, next to the dining-hall!’
The Toad, having finished his breakfast, picked up a stout stick and swung it vigorously, belabouring imaginary animals. ‘I’ll learn them to steal my house!’ he cried, ‘I’ll learn them, I’ll learn them!’
Presently the Mole came tumbling into the room, evidently very pleased with himself. ‘I’ve been having such fun!’ he began at once, ‘I’ve been getting a rise out of the stoats!’
‘I hope you’ve been very careful, Mole?’ said the Rat anxiously.
The Toad was simply wild with jealousy, more especially as he couldn’t make out for the life of him what the Mole had done that was so particularly clever; but, fortunately for him, before he could show temper or expose himself to the Badger’s sarcasm, the bell rang for luncheon.
It was a simple but sustaining meal—bacon and broad beans, and a macaroni pudding; and when they had quite done, the Badger settled himself into an arm-chair, and said, ‘Well, we’ve got our work cut out for us to-night, and it will probably be pretty late before we’re quite through with it; so I’m just going to take forty winks, while I can.’ And he drew a handkerchief over his face and was soon snoring.

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