 The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Graham, chapters three and four of dramatic reading, scene and story collection, volume two. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Narrator, read by The Story Girl. Mole, read by Beth Thomas. Rat, read by T.J. Burns. The Rabbit, read by Peter Yersley. Badger, read by Johnny English. Hedgehog, read by Jasmine Selma. Otter, read by Foam. Chapter three, The Wild Wood. The Mole had long wanted to make the acquaintance of the Badger. He seemed, by all accounts, to be such an important personage, and though rarely visible, to make his unseen influence felt by everybody about the place. But whenever the Mole mentioned his wish to the Water Rat, he always found himself put off. It's all right, the Rat would say. Badger will turn up some day or other. He's always turning up. And then I'll introduce you. The best of fellows. But you must not only take him as you find him, but when you find him. Couldn't you ask him here for dinner or something? Said the Mole. He wouldn't come. Replied the Rat simply. Badger hates society and invitations and dinner and all that sort of thing. Well then, supposing we go and call on him. Suggested the Mole. Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't like that at all. Said the Rat, quite alarmed. He's so very shy, he'd sure to be offended. I've never even ventured to call him at his own home myself, though I know him so well. Besides, we can't. It's quite out of the question, because he lives in the very middle of the Wild Wood. Well, supposing he does, said the Mole. You told me the Wild Wood was all right, you know. Oh, I know, I know. So it is. Replied the Rat evasively. But I think we won't go there just now. Not just yet. It's a long way, and he wouldn't be at home at this time of year anyhow. And he'll be coming along some day, if you'll wait quietly. The Mole had to be content with this, but the Badger never came along, and every day brought its amusements, and it was not till summer was long over, and cold and frost and mirey ways kept them much indoors, and the swollen river raced past outside their windows with the speed that mocked at boating of any sort or kind, that he found his thoughts dwelling again with much persistence on the solitary grey Badger who lived his own life by himself in his hole in the middle of the Wild Wood. In the winter time, the Rat slept a great deal, retiring early and rising late. In his short day, he sometimes scribbled poetry or did other small domestic jobs about the house, and of course there were always animals dropping in for a chat, and consequently there was a good deal of storytelling and comparing notes on the past summer and all its doings. Such a rich chapter it had been when one came to look back on it all, with illustrations so numerous and so very highly coloured. The pageant of the riverbank had marched steadily along, unfolding itself in seen pictures that succeeded each other in stately procession. Purple loose strife arrived early, shaking luxuriant tangled locks along the edge of the mirror whence its own face laughed back at it. Willow herb, tender and wistful, like a pink sunset cloud, was not slow to follow. Comfrey, the purple hand in hand with the white, crept forth to take its place in the line, and at last one morning the diffident and delaying dog rows stepped delicately on the stage, and one knew, as if string music had announced it in stately chords that strayed into a gavotte, that June at last was here. One member of the company was still awaited, the shepherd boy, for the nymphs to woo, the knight for whom the lady is waited at the window, the prince that was to kiss the sleeping summer back to life and love. But when meadow-sweet, debonair and odorous and amber-jerken moved graciously to his place in the group, then the play was ready to begin. And what a play it had been! Drowsy animals snuck in their holes while wind and rain were battering at their doors recalled still keen mornings, an hour before sunrise, when the white mist, as yet undispersed, clung closely along the surface of the water, then the shock of the early plunge, the scamper along the bank, and the radiant transformation of earth, air and water, when suddenly the sun was with them again, and grey was gold, and colour was born and sprang out of the earth once more, they recalled the languorous siesta of hot mid-day, deep in green undergrowth, the sun striking through in tiny golden shafts and spots, the boating and bathing of the afternoon, the rambles along dusty lanes and through yellow cornfields, and the long, cool evening at last, when so many threads were gathered up, so many friendships rounded, and so many adventures planned for the morrow. There was plenty to talk about on those short winter days when the animals found themselves round the fire. Still, the mole had a good deal of spare time on his hands, and so one afternoon, when the rat in his armchair before the blaze was alternately dozing and trying over rhymes that wouldn't fit, he formed the resolution to go out by himself and explore the wildwood, and perhaps strike up in acquaintance with Mr. Badger. It was a cold, still afternoon with a hard, steely sky overhead when he slipped out of the warm parlour into the open air. The country lay bare and entirely leafless around him, and he thought that he had never seen so far and so intimately into the insides of things as on that winter day when nature was deep and her annual slumber and seemed to have kicked the clothes off, copses, dels, quarries, and all hidden places which had been mysterious minds for exploration and leafy summer now exposed themselves and their secrets spathetically and seemed to ask him to overlook their shabby poverty for a while till they could riot and rich masquerade as before and trick and entice him with the old deceptions. It was pitiful in a way, and yet cheering, even exhilarating, he was glad that he liked the country undecorated, hard and stripped of its finery. He had got down to the bare bones of it, and they were fine and strong and simple. He did not want the warm clover and the play of seeding grasses, the screens of quickset, the billowy drapery of beech and elm seemed best away, and with great cheerfulness of spirit he pushed on towards the wildwood which lay before him low and threatening like a black reef in some still southern sea. There was nothing to alarm him at first entry, twigs crackled under his feet, logs tripped him, funguses on stumps resembled caricatures, and startled him for the moment by their likeness to something familiar and far away. But that was all fun and exciting. It led him on, and he penetrated to where the light was less and trees crouched nearer and nearer, and holes made ugly mouths at him on either side. Everything was very still now. The dusk advanced on him steadily, rapidly, gathering in behind and before, and the light seemed to be draining away like floodwater. Then the faces began. It was over his shoulder and indistinctly that he first thought he saw a face, a little evil wedge-shaped face, looking out at him from a hole. When he turned and confronted it, the thing had vanished. He quickened his pace, telling himself cheerfully not to begin imagining things, or there would be simply no end to it. He passed another hole, and another, and another, and then, yes, no, yes, certainly a little narrow face with hard eyes had flashed up for an instant from a hole and was gone. He hesitated, braced himself up for an effort and strode on. Then suddenly, and as if it had been so all the time, every hole, far and near, and there were hundreds of them, seemed to possess its face, coming and going rapidly, all fixing on him glances of malice and hatred, all hard-eyed and evil and sharp. If he could only get away from the holes in the banks, he thought there would be no more faces. He swung off the path and plunged into the untrodden places of the wood. Then the whistling began. Very faint and shrill it was, and far behind him, when first he heard it, but somehow it made him hurry forward. Then, still very faint and shrill, it sounded far ahead of him, and made him hesitate and want to go back. As he halted in indecision, it broke out on either side and seemed to be caught up and passed on throughout the whole length of the wood to its farthest limit. They were up and alert and ready, evidently, whoever they were, and he, he was alone and unarmed, and far from any help, and the night was closing in. Then the pattering began. He thought it was only falling leaves at first, so slight and delicate was the sound of it. Then, as it grew, it took a regular rhythm, and he knew it for nothing else, but the pat, pat, pat of little feet still a very long way off. Was it in front or behind? It seemed to be first one, and then the other, then both. It grew and multiplied, till from every quarter as he listened anxiously, leaning this way and that, it seemed to be closing in on him. As he stood still to harken, a rabbit came running hard towards him through the trees. He waited, expecting it to slack in pace, or to swerve from him into a different course. Instead, the animal almost brushed him as it dashed past, his face set and hard, his eyes staring. Get out of this, you fool! Get out! The mole heard him mutter as he swung round a stump and disappeared down a friendly burrow. The pattering increased till it sounded like sod and hail on the dry leaf carpet spread around him. The whole wood seemed running now, running hard, haunting, chasing, closing in round something or somebody. In panic, he began to run too. Aimlessly, he knew not wither. He ran up against things. He fell over things and into things. He darted under things and dodged round things. At last he took refuge in the deep, dark hollow of an old beech tree which offered shelter, concealment, perhaps even safety, but who could tell? Anyhow, he was too tired to run any further that could only snuggle down into the dry leaves which had drifted into the hollow and hope he was safe for a time. And as he lay there, panting and trembling and listening to the whistlings and the patterings outside, he knew it at last and all its fullness. That dread thing which other little dwellers and field and hedgerow had encountered here and known as their darkest moment, that thing which the rat had vainly tried to shield him from, the terror of the wild wood. Meantime, the rat, warm and comfortable, dosed by his fireside. His paper of half-finished verses slipped from his knee, his head fell back, his mouth opened, and he wandered by the verdant banks of dream rivers. Then a coal slipped, the fire crackled and sent up a spare to flame, and he woke with a start. Remembering what he had been engaged upon, he reached down to the floor for his verses, poured over them for a minute, and then looked round for the mole to ask him if he knew a good rhyme for something or other. But the mole was not there. He listened for a time, the house seemed very quiet. Then he called, several times, and receiving no answer, got up and went out into the hall. The mole's cap was missing from its accustomed peg. His galoshes, which always laid by the umbrella stand, were also gone. The rat left the house and carefully examined the muddy surface of the ground outside, hoping to find the mole's tracks. There they were, sure enough, the galoshes were new, just bought for the winter, and the pimples on their soles were fresh and sharp. He could see the imprints of them in the mud, running along, straight and purposeful, leading direct to the wild wood. The rat looked very grave and stood in deep thought for a minute or two. Then he re-entered the house, strapped a belt round his waist, shoved a brace of pistols into it, took up a stout cudgel that stood in a corner of the hall, and set off for the wild wood at a smart pace. It was already getting towards dusk when he reached the first fringe of trees and plunged without hesitation into the wood, looking anxiously on either side for any sign of his friend. Here and there wicked little faces popped out of holes, but vanished immediately at sight of the valorous animal, his pistols and the great ugly cudgel in his grasp, and the whistling and pattering which he had heard quite plainly on his first entry, died away and ceased, and all was very still. He made his way manfully through the length of the wood to its furthest edge. Then, forsaking all paths, he set himself to traverse it, laboriously working over the whole ground, and all the time calling out cheerfully, Moly, Moly, Moly, where are you? It's me, it's old Rat. He had patiently hunted through the wood for an hour or more. When at last, to his joy, he had a little answering cry. Guiding himself by the sound, he made his way through the gathering darkness to the foot of an old beech tree with a hole in it, and from out of the hole came a feeble voice saying, Ratty, is that really you? The Rat crept into the hollow, and there he found the Mole, exhausted and still trembling. Oh, Rat, he cried, I've been so frightened you can't think. Oh, I quite understand, said the Rat soothingly. You shouldn't really have gone and done it, Mole. I did my best to keep you from it. We river bankers, we hardly ever come here by ourselves. If we have to come, we come in couples at least, then we're generally all right. Besides, there are a hundred things one has to know, which we understand all about, and you don't as yet. I mean, passwords and signs and sayings, which have power and effect, and plants you carry in your pocket, and verses you repeat, and dodges and tricks you practice. All simple enough when you know them, but you've got to be known if you're small, or you'll find yourself in trouble. Of course, if you were badger or odder, it would be quite another matter. Surely the brave Mr. Toad wouldn't mind coming here by himself, would he? inquired the Mole. Old Toad, said the Rat, laughing heartily. He wouldn't show his face here alone, not for a whole hatful of golden guineas, Toad wouldn't. The Mole was greatly cheered by the sound of the Rat's careless laughter, as well as by the sight of his stick and his gleaming pistols, and he stopped shivering and began to feel bolder and more himself again. Now then, said the Rat presently, we really must pull ourselves together and make a start for home while there's still a little light left. It will never do to spend the night here, you understand? Too cold for one thing. Dear Ratty, said the poor Mole, I'm dreadfully sorry, but I'm simply dead beat, and that's a solid fact. You must let me rest here a while longer and get my strength back if I'm to get home at all. Oh, all right, said the good-natured Rat. Rest away. It's pretty nearly pitch-dark now anyhow, and there ought to be a bit of a moon later. So the Mole got well into the dry leaves and stretched himself out, and presently dropped off into sleep, though of a broken and troubled sort, while the Rat covered himself up too as best he might for warmth and lay patiently waiting with a pistol in his paw. When at last the Mole woke up, much refreshed and in his usual spirits, the Rat said, Now then, I'll just take a look outside and see if everything's quiet, and then we really must be off. He went to the entrance of their retreat and put his head out. Then the Mole heard him saying quietly to himself, Hello, hello, here is a go. What's up, Ratty? asked the Mole. Snow is up, replied the Rat briefly, Or rather, down. It's snowing hard. The Mole came and crouched beside him, and, looking out, saw the wood that had been so dreadful to him in quite a changed aspect. Holes, hollows, pools, pitfalls, and other black menaces to the Wayfarer were vanishing fast, and a gleaming carpet of ferry was springing up everywhere that looked too delicate to be trodden upon by rough feet. A fine powder filled the air and caressed the cheek with a tingle in its touch, and the black bowls of the trees showed up in a light that seemed to come from below. Well, well, it can't be helped, said the Rat after pondering. We must make a start and take our chance, I suppose. The worst of it is, I don't exactly know where we are, and now the snow makes everything look so very different. It did indeed. The Mole would not have known that it was the same wood. However, they set out bravely and took the line that seemed most promising, holding on to each other and pretending with invincible cheerfulness that they recognized an old friend in every fresh tree that grimly and silently greeted them, or saw openings, gaps, or paths with a familiar turn in them in the monotony of white space and black tree trunks that refused to vary. An hour or two later, they had lost all count of time, they pulled up, dispirited, weary, and hopelessly at sea, and sat down on a fallen tree trunk to recover their breath and consider what was to be done. They were aching with fatigue and bruised with tumbles. They had fallen into several holes and got wet through. The snow was getting so deep that they could hardly drag their little legs through it, and the trees were thicker and more like each other than ever. There seemed to be no end to this wood and no beginning and no difference in it and, worst of all, no way out. We can't sit here very long, said the Rat. We shall have to make another push for it and do something or other that cold is too awful for anything and the snow will soon be too deep for us to wade through. He peered about him and considered. Look here, he went on. This is what occurs to me. There's a sort of dell down here in front of us where the ground seems all hilly and humpy and hummacky. We'll make our way down into that and try to find some sort of shelter, a cave or a hole with a dry floor to it, out of the snow and the wind. And there we'll have a good rest before we try again, for we're both of us pretty dead beat. Besides, the snow may leave off or something may turn up. So once more they got on their feet and struggled down into the dell where they hunted about for a cave or some corner that was dry and a protection from the keen wind and the whirling snow. They were investigating one of the hummacky bits the Rat had spoken of when suddenly the Mole tripped up and fell forward on his face with a squeal. Oh, my leg! he cried. Oh, my poor shin! And he sat up on the snow and nursed his leg in both his front paws. Poor old Mole, said the Rat kindly. You don't seem to be having much luck today, do you? Let's have a look at that leg. Yes, he went on, going down on his knees to look. You've cut your shin, sure enough. Wait till I get my handkerchief and I'll tie it up for you. I must have tripped over a hidden branch or a stump, said the Mole miserably. Oh, my! oh, my! It's a very clean cut, said the Rat, examining it again attentively. That was never done by a branch or a stump, looks as if it was made by a sharp edge or something in metal. Funny! He pondered a while and examined the humps and slopes that surrounded them. Well, never mind what done it, said the Mole. Forgetting his grammar and his pain. It hurts just the same, whatever done it. But the Rat, after carefully tying up the leg with his handkerchief, had left him and was busy scraping in the snow. He scratched and shoveled and explored all four legs wagging busily while the Mole waited impatiently, remarking at intervals. Oh, come on, Rat! Suddenly the Rat cried, Hooray! and then Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! Hooray! and fell to executing a feeble jig in the snow. What have you found, Ratty? asked the Mole, still nursing his leg. Come and see! said the delighted Rat as he jigged on. The Mole hobbled up to the spot and had a good look. Well, he said at last, slowly. I see it right enough, seen the same sort of thing before, lots of times. Familiar object, I call it. A door scraper, well, what of it? Why dance jigs around a door scraper? But, don't you see what it means? You, you dull-witted animal? cried the Rat impatiently. Of course I see what it means, replied the Mole. It simply means that some very careless and forgetful person has left his door scraper lying about in the middle of the Wild Wood, just where it's sure to trip everybody up. Very thoughtless of him, I call it. When I get home I shall go and complain about it, too, to somebody or other, see if I don't. Oh, dear, oh, dear! cried the Rat, in despair at his obtuseness. Here, stop arguing and come and scrape. And he set to work again and made the snow fly in all directions around him. After some further toil his efforts were rewarded and a very shabby doormat lay exposed of you. There, what did I tell you? exclaimed the Rat in great triumph? Absolutely nothing, whatever, replied the Mole with perfect truthfulness. Well, now, he went on. You seem to have found another piece of domestic litter done for and thrown away. And I suppose you're perfectly happy. Better go ahead and dance your jig round that, if you've got to, and get it over. And then perhaps we can go on and not waste any more time over rubbish heaps. Can we eat a doormat or sleep under a doormat or sit on a doormat and sledge home over the snow on it, you exasperating rodent? Do you mean to say? cried the excited Rat, that this doormat doesn't tell you anything? Really, Rat? said the Mole quite pettishly. I think we'd had quite enough of this folly. Whoever heard of a doormat telling anyone anything, they simply don't do it. Not that sort at all. Doormats know their place. Now, look here, you, you thick-headed beast. replied the Rat, really angry. This must stop. Not another word, but scrape, scrape and scratch and dig and hunt round, especially on the sides of the hummocks. If you want to sleep dry and warm tonight, for this is our last chance. The Rat attacked a snow bank beside them with order, probing with his cudgel everywhere and digging with fury. And the Mole scraped busily too, more to oblige the Rat than for any other reason, for his opinion was that his friend was getting light-headed. Some ten minutes' hard work and the point of the Rat's cudgel struck something that sounded hollow. He worked till he could get a paw through and feel, then called the Mole to come and help him. Hard at it went the two animals, till at last the result of their labours stood full in view of the astonished and hitherto incredulous Mole. In the side of what had seemed to be a snow bank stood a solid-looking little door, painted a dark green, an iron bell-pull hung by the side and below it, on a small brass plate, neatly engraved in square capital letters, they could read by the aid of moonlight Mr. Badger. The Mole fell backwards on the snow from sheer surprise and delight. Rat! he cried in penitence. You're a wonder, a real wonder, that's what you are. I see it all now. You argued it out step by step in that wise head of yours. From the very moment I fell and cut my shin and you looked at the cut and at once your majestic mind said to itself, Door Scraper, and then you turned to and found the very Door Scraper that done it. No, some people would have been quite satisfied, but not you. Your intellect went on working. Let me only just find a door mat, says you to yourself, and my theory is proved. And of course, you found your door mat. You're so clever. I believe you could find anything you liked. Now, says you, that door exists as plain as if I saw it. There's nothing else remains to be done but to find it. Well, I've read about that sort of thing in books, but I've never come across it before in real life. You ought to go where you'll be properly appreciated. You'll simply wasted here among us fellows if I only had your head ready. But as you haven't interrupted the rat rather unkindly. I suppose you're going to sit on the snow all night and talk. Get up at once and hang on to that bell pole you see there. And ring hard as hard as you can while I hammer. While the rat attacked the door with his stick, the mole sprang up at the bell pool, clutched it and swung there, both feet well off the ground. And from quite a long way off, they could faintly hear a deep-toned bell respond. Chapter 4. Mr. Badger They waited patiently for what seemed a very long time, stamping in the snow to keep their feet warm. At last they heard the sound of slow, shuffling footsteps approaching the door and the inside. It seemed, as the mole remarked to the rat, like someone walking in carpet slippers that were too large for him and down at heel, which was intelligent of mole because that was exactly what it was. There was the noise of a bolt shot back and the door opened a few inches, enough to show a long snout and a pair of sleepy blinking eyes. Now, the very next time this happens, said a gruff and suspicious voice, I shall be exceedingly angry. Who is it this time, disturbing people on such a night? Speak up. Oh, Badger! cried the rat. Let us in, please. It's me, Rat, and my friend Mole, and we've lost our way in the snow. What? Ratty, my dear little man! exclaimed the Badger in quite a different voice. Come along in, both of you, at once, while you must be perished. Well, I never lost in the snow and in the wild wood, too, and at this time of night, but come in with you. The two animals tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get inside and heard the door shut behind them with great joy and relief. The Badger, who wore a long dressing gown and whose slippers were indeed very down at heel, carried a flat candlestick in his paw and had probably been on his way to bed when their summons sounded. He looked kindly down on them and patted both their heads. This is not the sort of night the small animals to be out, he said paternally. I'm afraid you've been up to some of your pranks again, Ratty, but come along, coming to the kitchen. There's a first-rate fire there and supper and everything. He shuffled on in front of them, carrying the light, and they followed him, nudging each other in an anticipating sort of way down a long, gloomy, and, to tell the truth, decidedly shabby passage into a sort of a central hall out of which they could dimly see other long tunnel-like passages branching, passages mysterious and without apparent end, but there were doors in the hall as well, out, oaken, comfortable-looking doors. One of these the badger flung open and at once they found themselves in all the glow and warmth of a large, fire-lit kitchen. The floor was well-worn red brick and on the wide hearth burnt a fire of logs between two attractive chimney-corners tucked away in the wall well out of any suspicion of draught. A couple of high-backed settles facing each other on either side of the fire gave further sitting accommodations for the sociably disposed. In the middle of the room stood a long table of plain boards placed on trestles with benches down each side. At one end of it where an armchair stood pushed back were spread the remains of the badger's plain but ample supper. Rows of spotless plates winked from the shelves of the dresser at the far end of the room and from the rafters overhead hung hams, bundles of dried herbs, nets of onions, and baskets of eggs. It seemed a place where heroes could fitly feast after victory where weary harvesters could line up in scores along the table and keep their harvest home with mirth and song or where two or three friends of simple tastes could sit about as they pleased and eat and smoke and talk in comfort and contentment. The ruddy brick floor smiled up at the smoky ceiling. The oaken settles, shiny with long wear, exchanged cheerful glances with each other, plates on the dresser, grinned at pots on the shelf and the merry firelight flickered and played over everything without distinction. The kindly badger thrust them down on a settle to toast themselves at the fire and bade them remove their wet coats and boots. Then he fetched them dressing gowns and slippers and himself bathed the mole's shin with warm water and mended the cut with sticking plaster till the whole thing was just as good as new, if not better. In the embracing light and warmth warm and dry had last with weary legs propped up in front of them and a suggestive clink of plates being arranged on the table behind it seemed to the storm-driven animals now in safe anchorage that the cold and trackless wild wood just left outside was miles and miles away and all that they had suffered in it a half-forgotten dream. When at last they were thoroughly toasted the badger summoned them to the table where he had been busy laying a repast. They had felt pretty hungry before but when they actually saw at last the supper that was spread for them really it seemed only a question of what they should attack first where all was so attractive and whether the other things would obligingly wait for them till they had time to give them attention. Conversation was impossible for a long time and when it was slowly resumed it was that regrettable sort of conversation that results from talking with your mouthful the badger did not mind that sort of thing at all nor did he take any notice of elbows on the table or everybody speaking at once as he did not go into society himself he had got an idea that these things belonged to the things that didn't really matter we know of course that he was wrong and took too narrow a view because they do matter very much though it would take too long to explain why he sat in his armchair at the head of the table and nodded gravely at intervals as the animals told their story and he did not seem surprised or shocked at anything and he never said I told you so or just what I always said or remarked that they ought to have done so and so or ought not to have done something else the mole began to feel very friendly towards him when supper was really finished at last and each animal felt that his skin was now as tight as was decently safe and that by this time he didn't care a hang for anybody or anything they gathered round the glowing embers of the great wood fire and thought how jolly it was to be sitting up so late and so independent and so full and after they had chatted for a time about things in general the badger said heartily now then tell us the news from your part of the world how's old Toad going on from bad to worse said the rat gravely while the mole cocked up on a settle and basking in the firelight his heels higher than his head tried to look properly mournful another smash-up only last week and a bad one you see he will insist on driving himself and he's hopelessly incapable if you'd only employ a decent steady well-trained animal pay him good wages and leave everything to him he'd get on alright but no he's convinced he's a heaven-born driver and nobody can teach him anything and all the rest follows how many has he had inquired the badger gloomily smashes or machines asked the rat oh well after all it's the same thing with Toad this is the seventh as for the others you know that coach house of his well it's piled up piled up to the roof with fragments of motor cars none of them bigger than your hat that accounts for the other six so far as they can be accounted for he's been in hospital three times put in the mole and as for the fines he's had to pay it's simply awful to think of yes and that's part of the trouble continued the rat Toad's rich we all know but he's not a millionaire and he's a hopelessly bad driver and quite regardless of law and order killed or ruined it's got to be one of the two things sooner or later badger were his friends only to do something the badger went through a bit of hard thinking now look here he said at last rather severely of course you know I can't do anything now his two friends are centered quite understanding his point no animal according to the rules of animal etiquette is ever expected to do anything strenuous or heroic or even moderately active during the off season of winter all are sleepy some actually asleep all are weather bound more or less and all are resting from arduous days and nights during which every muscle in them has been severely tested and every energy kept at full stretch very well then continued the badger but when once the year had really turned and the nights are shorter and half way through them one rouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up and doing by sunrise if not before you know both animals nodded gravely they knew well then went on the badger we that is you and me and our friend the mole here we'll take toad seriously in hand we'll stand no nonsense whatever we'll bring him back to reason by force if need be we'll make him be a sensible toad we'll you're asleep rat me said the rat waking up with a jerk he's been asleep two or three times in supper said the mole laughing he himself was feeling quite wakeful and even lively though he didn't know why the reason was of course that he being naturally an underground animal by birth and breeding the situation of badger's house exactly suited him and made him feel at home while the rat who slept every night in a bedroom the windows of which opened on a breezy river naturally felt the atmosphere still and oppressive well it's time we were all in bed said the badger getting up and fetching flat candlesticks come along you two and I'll show you to your quarters and take your time tomorrow morning breakfast at any hour you please he conducted the two animals to a long room that seemed half bed chamber and half loft the badger's winter stores which indeed were visible everywhere took up half the room piles of apples turnips and potatoes baskets full of nuts and jars of honey but the two little white beds on the remainder of the floor looked soft and inviting and the linen on them though course was clean and smelt beautifully of lavender and the mole and the water rat taking off their garments and some 30 seconds tumbled in between the sheets in great joy and contentment in accordance with the kindly badges and junctions the two tired animals came down to breakfast very late next morning and found a bright fire burning in the kitchen and two young hedgehogs sitting on a bench at the table eating oatmeal porridge out of wooden bowls the hedgehogs dropped their spoons rose to their feet and ducked their heads respectfully as the two entered there sit down sit down said the rat pleasantly and go on with your porridge where have you young's just come from lost your way in the snow I suppose yes please sir said the elder of the two hedgehogs respectfully me and little Billy here we was trying to find our way to school mother would have us go was the weather ever so and at last we lost ourselves sir and Billy he got frightened and took and cried being young and faint hearted and at last we happened up against Mr. Badger's back door and made so bold as to knock sir for Mr. Badger he is a kind hearted genital man as everyone knows I understand said the rat cutting himself some rashes from a side of bacon while the mole dropped some eggs into a saucepan another like outside you needn't sir me quite so much he added oh terrible bad sir terrible deep the snow is said the hedgehog no getting out for the likes of you gentlemen today where's Mr. Badger inquired the mole as he warmed the coffee pot before the fire the masters gone into his study sir replied the hedgehog and he said as how he was going to be particular busy this morning and on no account was he to be disturbed this explanation of course was thoroughly understood by everyone present the fact is as already set forth when you live a life of intense activity for six months in the year and of comparative or actual somnolence for the other six during the latter period you cannot be continually pleading sleepiness when there are people about things to be done the excuse gets monotonous the animals well knew that Badger having eaten a hearty breakfast had retired to his study and settled himself in an armchair with his legs up on another and a red cotton handkerchief over his face and was being busy in the usual way at this time of the year the front doorbell clanged loudly and the rat who was very greasy with buttered toast sent Billy the smaller hedgehog to see who it might be there was a sound of much stamping in the hall and presently Billy returned in front of the author who threw himself on the rat with an embrace and a shout of affection at greeting get off spluttered the rat with his mouth full thought I should find you here all right said the author cheerfully they were all in a great state of alarm along river bank they arrived this morning rat never been home all night normal either something dreadful must have happened they said and the snow had covered up all your tracks of course but I knew that when people were in any fix they mostly went to Badger or else Badger got to know of it somehow so I came straight off here through the wildwood and the snow my it was fine coming through the snow as the red sun was rising showing against the black tree trunks as you went along in the stillness every now and then masses of snow slid off to branches suddenly with a flop making you jump and run for cover snow castles and snow caverns had sprung up out of nowhere in the night and snow bridges terraces ramparts I could have stayed and played with them for hours here and there great branches had been torn away by the sheer weight of the snow and robins perched and hopped on them in their perky conceited way just as if they had done it themselves a ragged string of wild geese passed overhead high on a grey sky and a few rooks whirled over the trees inspected and flapped off homewards with a disgusted expression but I met no sensible being to ask the news of about halfway across I came on a rabbit sitting on a stump cleaning his silly face with his paws he was a pretty scared animal when I crept up behind him and placed a heavy forepaw on his shoulder I had to cuff his head once or twice to get any sense out of it at all at last I managed to extract from him that mole had been seen in the wild world last night by one of them it was the talk of the burrows he said how mole, Mr. Rat's particular friend, was in a bad fix how he had lost his way and they were up and out hunting and were chivvying him round and round then why didn't any of you do something I asked you may not be blessed with brains but there are hundreds and hundreds of you big stout fellows as fat as butter and your burrows running in all directions and you could have taken him in and made him safe and comfortable and tried to at all events what us he merely said do something us rabbits so I cuffed him again and left him there was nothing else to be done at any rate I had learned something and if I had had the luck to meet any of them I'd have learned something more or day would weren't you at all nervous? asked the mole some of yesterday's terror coming back to him at the mention of the wild wood nervous the otter showed a gleaming set of strong white teeth as he laughed I'd give him nerves if any of them tried anything on with me here mole try me some slices of ham like the good little chap you are I'm frightfully hungry and I've got any amount to say to Ratty here haven't seen him for an age so the good natured mole having cut some slices of ham set the hedgehogs to fry it and returned to his own breakfast while the otter and the rat their heads together eagerly talked river shop which is long shop and talk that is endless running on like the babbling river itself a plate of fried ham had just been cleared and sent back for more when the badger entered yawning and rubbing his eyes and greeted them all in his quiet simple way with kind inquiries for everyone it must be getting on full luncheon time he remarked to the otter better stop and have it with us you must be hungry this cold morning rather replied the otter winking at the mole the sight of these greedy young hedgehogs stuffing themselves with fried ham makes me feel positively vanished the hedgehogs who were just beginning to feel hungry again after their porridge and after working so hard at their frying looked timidly up at Mr. Badger but were too shy to say anything here you two youngsters be off home to your mother said the badger kindly I'll send someone with you to show you the way you won't want any dinner today I'll be bound he gave them six pence apiece and a pat on the head and they went off with much respectful swinging of caps and touching of four locks presently they all sat down to luncheon together the mole found himself placed next to Mr. Badger and as the other two were still deep in river gossip from which nothing could divert them he took the opportunity to tell Badger how comfortable and home like it all felt to him once well underground he said you know exactly where you are nothing can happen to you and nothing can happen to you you're entirely your own master and you don't have to consult anybody or mind what they say things go on all the same overhead and you let him and don't bother about him when you want to up you go and there the things are waiting for you the badger simply beamed on him that's exactly what I say he replied there's no security or peace and tranquility except underground and then if your ideas get larger why a dig in a scrape and there you are if you feel your house is a bit too big you stop up a hold or two and there you are again no builders no tradesmen no remarks passed on you by fellows looking over your wall and above all no weather look at rat now a couple of feet of flood water and he's got to move into hired lodgings uncomfortable inconveniently situated and horribly expensive take toad I say nothing against toad hall quite the best house in these parts as a house but supposing a fire breaks out where's toad supposing tiles are blown off or walls sink or crack or windows get broken where's toad supposing the rooms are draughty I hate to draft myself where's toad no up and out of doors is good enough to roam about and get one's living in but underground to come back to outlast that's my idea of home the mole assented heartily and the badger in consequence got very friendly with him when lunch is over he said I'll take you all round this little place of mine I can see you'll appreciate it you understand what domestic architecture ought to be you do after luncheon accordingly when the other two had settled themselves into the chimney corner and had started a heated argument about the subject of eels the badger lighted a lantern and bade the mole follow him crossing the hall they passed down one of the principal tunnels and the wavering light of the lantern gave glimpses on either side of rooms both large and small some mere cupboards others nearly as broad and imposing as toad's dining hall a narrow passage at right angles led them into another corridor and here the same thing was repeated the mole was staggered at the size, the extent the ramifications of it all at the length of the dim passages the solid vaultings of the crammed store chambers the masonry everywhere the pillars, the arches the pavements how on earth badger he said at last did you ever find time and strength to do all this it's astonishing indeed if I had done it but as a matter of fact I did none of it only cleaned out the passages and chambers as far as I had need of them there's lots more of it all round about I see you don't understand and I must explain it to you well, very long ago on the spot where the wildwood waves now before ever it had planted itself and grown up to what it is now there was a city where people you know here where we are standing they lived and walked and talked and slept and carried on their business here they stabled their horses and feasted from here they rode out to fight or drove out to trade they were a powerful people and rich and great builders they built to last for they thought their city would last forever but what has become of them all asked the mole they build and they go it is their way but we remain there were badgers here I've been told long before that same city ever came to be and now there are badgers here again we are an enduring lot and we may move out for a time but we wait and are patient and that we come and so it will ever be well and when they went at last those people said the mole when they went continued the badger the strong winds and persistent rains took the matter in hand patiently ceaselessly year after year perhaps we badgers too in our small way helped a little who knows it was all down down down gradually ruin and levelling and disappearance then it was all up up up gradually as seeds grew to saplings and saplings to forest trees and bramble and fern came creeping in to help leafmull rose and obliterated streams in their winter fresh air brought sand and soil to clog and to cover and in course of time our home was ready for us again and we moved in up above us on the surface the same thing happened animals arrived like the look of the place took up their quarters settled down spread and flourished they didn't bother themselves about the past they never do they're too busy the place was a bit bumpy and hilly naturally and full of holes but that was rather an advantage and they don't bother about the future either the future when perhaps the people will move in again for a time as may very well be the wildwood is pretty well populated by now with all the usual lot good bad and indifferent I name the names it takes all sorts to make a world but I fancy you know something about them yourself by this time I do indeed said the mole with a slight shiver well well said the badger patting him on the shoulder it was your first experience of them you see and we must all live and let look but I'll pass the word around tomorrow and I think you'll have no further trouble any friend of mine walks where he likes in this country or I'll know the reason why when they got back to the kitchen again they found the rat walking up and down very restless the underground atmosphere was oppressing him and getting on his nerves and he seemed really to be afraid that the river would run away if he wasn't there to look after it so he had his overcoat on and his pistols thrust into his belt again come along mall he said anxiously as soon as he caught sight of them we must get off while it's daylight don't want to spend another night in the wildwood again it'll be all right my fine fellow said the otter I'm coming along with you and I know every past blindfold and if there's a hedge that needs to be punched you can confidently rely upon me to punch it you really needn't fret ratty added the badger placidly my passages run further than you think and I bolt holes to the edge of the wood in several directions though I don't care for everybody to know about them when you really have to go you shall leave by one of my shortcuts meantime make yourself easy and sit down again the rat was nevertheless still anxious to be off and attend to his river so the badger taking up his lantern again led the way along a damp and airless tunnel that wound and dipped part vaulted part hewn through solid rock for a weary distance that seemed to be miles at last daylight began to show itself confusedly through tangled growth overhanging the mouth of the passage and the badger bidding them a hasty goodbye pushed them hurriedly through the opening made everything look as natural as possible again with creepers brushwood and dead leaves and retreated they found themselves standing on the very edge of the wild wood rocks and brambles and tree roots behind them confusedly heaped and tangled in front a great space of quiet fields hemmed by lines of hedges black on the snow and far ahead a glint of the familiar old river while the wintry sun hung red and low on the horizon the otter as knowing all the paths took charge of the party and they trailed out on a beeline for a distant style pausing their a moment and looking back they saw the whole mass of the wild wood dense, menacing compact, grimly set and vast white surroundings simultaneously they turned and made swiftly for home for firelight and the familiar things it played on for the voice sounding cheerily outside their window of the river that they knew and trusted in all its moods that never made them afraid with any amazement as he hurried along eagerly anticipating the moment when he would be at home again among the things he knew and liked the mole saw clearly that he was an animal of tilled field and hedgerow linked to the plowed furrow the frequented pasture the lane of evening lingerings the cultivated garden plot for others the asperities the stubborn endurance or the clash of actual conflict that went with nature in the rough must be wise must keep to the pleasant places in which his lines were laid and which held adventure enough in their way to last for a lifetime the end of chapters three and four of the Wind and the Willows The Remarkable Rocket by Oscar Wilde this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain and for more information if you are a volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Rocket read by Java Man read by Grace Buchanan Prince read by Lourda Bengal Light Duck and People read by T.J. Burns Squib page and people read by Jasmine Summer Princess Catherine Wheel and Goose read by Beth Thomas Cracker read by Honoria Roman Candle read by Lynette Cochens Workman People read by Lynette Cochens King read by Adrian Stevens Frog read by Adrian Stevens First Boy read by Todd Second Boy read by Grace Buchanan Narrated by Rob Marland The Remarkable Rocket The King's Son was going to be married so there were general rejoicings he had waited a whole year for his bride and at last she had arrived she was a Russian princess and had driven all the way from Finland in a sledge drawn by six reindeer the sledge was shaped like a great golden swan and between the swan's wings lay the little princess herself her long ermine cloak reached right down to her feet on her head was a tiny cap of silver tissue and she was as pale as the snow palace in which she had always lived so pale was she that as she drove through the streets all the people wondered She's like a white rose they cried and threw down flowers on her from the balconies at the gate of the castle the prince was waiting to receive her he had dreamy violet eyes and his hair was like fine gold when he saw her he sank upon one knee and kissed her hand your picture was beautiful he murmured but you are more beautiful than your picture and the little princess blushed she was like a white rose before said a young page to his neighbour but she's like a red rose now and the whole court was delighted for the next three days everybody went about saying white rose, red rose red rose, white rose and the king gave orders that the page's salary was to be doubled as he received no salary at all this was not of much use to him but it was considered a great honour and was duly published in the court gazette when the three days were over the marriage was celebrated it was a magnificent ceremony and the bride and bridegroom walked hand in hand under a canopy of purple velvet embroidered with little pearls then there was a state banquet which lasted for five hours the prince and princess sat at the top of the great hall and drank out of a cup of clear crystal only true lovers could drink out of this cup for if false lips touched it it grew grey and dull and cloudy it's quite clear that they love each other he read the little page as clear as crystal and the king doubled his salary a second time what an honour! cried all the courtiers after the banquet there was to be a ball the bride and bridegroom were to dance the rose dance together and the king had promised to play the flute he played very badly but no one had ever dared to tell him so he was the king indeed, he knew only two heirs and was never quite certain which one he was playing but it made no matter for whatever he did everybody cried out charming the last item on the programme was a grand display of fireworks to be let off exactly at midnight the little princess had never seen a firework in her life so the king had given orders that the royal pyrotechnist should be in attendance on the day of her marriage what a fireworks like she had asked the prince one morning as she was walking on the terrace they are like the aurora borealis said the king who always answered questions that were addressed to other people only much more natural I prefer them to stars myself as you always know where they're going to appear and they are as delightful as my own flute playing I certainly see them so at the end of the king's garden a giant stand had been set up and as soon as the royal pyrotechnist had put everything in its proper place the fireworks began to talk to each other the world is certainly very beautiful cried a little squib just look at those yellow tulips why, if they were real crackers they could not be lovelier I am very glad I have travelled travel improves the mind wonderfully and does away with all one's prejudices the king's garden is not the world you foolish squib said a big roman candle the world is an enormous place and it would take you three days to see it thoroughly any place you love is the world to you exclaimed a pensive catherine wheel who had been attached to an old deal box in early life and prided herself on her broken heart but love is not fashionable anymore the poets have killed it they wrote so much about it that nobody believed them and I am not surprised true love suffers and is silent I remember myself once but it is no matter now romance is a thing of the past nonsense said the roman candle romance never dies like the moon and lives forever the bride and bridegroom for instance love each other very dearly I heard all about them this morning from a brown paper cartridge who happened to be staying in the same drawer as myself and knew the latest court news but the catherine wheel shook her head romance is dead romance is dead romance is dead she murmured people who think that if you say the same thing over and over a great many times it becomes true in the end suddenly a sharp dry cough was heard and they all looked round it came from a tall supercilious looking rocket who was tied to the end of a long stick he always coughed before he made any observation so as to attract attention he said and everybody listened except the poor catherine wheel who was still shaking her head and murmuring romances did order order cried out a cracker he was something of a politician and had always taken a prominent part in the local elections so he knew the proper parliamentary expressions to use quite did whispered the catherine wheel and she went off to sleep as soon as there was perfect silence the rocket coughed a third time and began he spoke with a very slow, distinct voice as if he was dictating his memoirs and always looked over the shoulder of the person to whom he was talking in fact he had a most distinguished manner how fortunate it is for the king's son he remarked it seems to be married on the very day on which I am to be let off really if it had been the range beforehand it could not have turned out better for him but princess are always lucky dear me said the little squib I thought it was quite the other way and that we were to be let off in the princess honor it may be so with you indeed I have no doubt that it is but with me it is different I am a very remarkable rocket and come of remarkable parents my mother was the most celebrated catherine wheel of a day and was renowned for her graceful dancing when she made her great public appearance she spun round 19 times before she went out and each time that she did so she threw into the air seven pink stars she was three feet and a half in diameter and made of the very best gunpowder my father was a rocket like myself and of French extraction he flew so high that the people were afraid that he would never come down again he did though for he was of a kindly disposition and he made a most brilliant descent in a shower of golden rain the newspapers wrote about his performance in very flattering terms indeed the court-gazette called him a triumph of pyrotechnic art pyrotechnic pyrotechnic you mean said a Bengal light I know it's pyrotechnic for I saw it written on my own canister well I said pylotechnic answered the rocket in a severe tone of voice and the Bengal light felt so crushed that he began at once to bully the little squibs in order to show that he was still a person of some importance I was saying continued the rocket I was saying what was I saying you were talking about yourself replied the Roman candle of course I knew I was discussing some interesting subject when I was so rudely interrupted I hate rudeness and bad manners of every kind for I am extremely sensitive no one in the whole world is so sensitive as I am I am quite sure of that what is a sensitive person said the cracker to the Roman candle a person who because he has horns himself always treads on other people's toes answered the Roman candle in a low whisper and the cracker nearly exploded with laughter pray what are you laughing at inquired the rocket I am not laughing I'm laughing because I'm happy replied the cracker that is a very selfish reason said the rocket angrily what right have you to be happy you should be thinking about others in fact you should be thinking about me I am always thinking about myself and I expect everybody else to do the same that is what is called sympathy it is a beautiful virtue and I possess it in a high degree suppose for instance anything happened to me tonight what a misfortune that would be for everyone the prince and princes would never be happy again their whole married life would be spoiled and as for the king I know he would not get over it really when I begin to reflect on the importance of my position I am almost moved to tears if you want to give pleasure to others cried the Roman candle you had better keep yourself dry certainly exclaimed the Bengal light who was now in better spirits that is only common sense common sense indeed said the rocket indignantly you forget that I am very uncommon and very remarkable why anybody can have common sense provided that they have no imagination but I have imagination for I never think of things as they really are I always think of them as being quite different as for keeping myself dry there is evidently no one here who can at all appreciate an emotional nature fortunately for myself I don't care the only thing that sustains one through life is the consciousness of the immense inferiority of everybody else and this is a feeling that I have always cultivated but none of you have any hugs here you are laughing and making merry just as if the prince and princes had not just been married well really exclaimed a small fire balloon why not it is a most joyful occasion and when I soar up into the air I intend to tell the stars all about it you will see them twinkle when I talk to them about the pretty bride ah what a trivial view of life said the rocket but it is only what I expected there is nothing in you you are hollow and empty why perhaps the prince and princes may go to live in a country where there is a deep river and perhaps they may have one only son a little fair-haired boy with violet eyes like the prince himself and perhaps someday he may go out to walk with his nurse and perhaps the nurse may go to sleep under a great elder tree and perhaps the little boy may fall into the deep river and be drowned what a terrible misfortune poor people to lose their only son it is really too dreadful I shall never get over it but they have not lost their only son said the Roman candle no misfortune has happened to them at all I never said that they had replied the rocket I said that they might if they had lost their only son there would be no use in saying anything more about the matter I hate people who cry over spilled milk but when I think that they might lose their only son I certainly am very much affected you certainly are cried the Bengal light in fact you are the most affected person I ever met you are the rudest person I ever met said the rocket and you cannot understand my friendship for the prince why you don't even know him growled the Roman candle I never said I knew him answered the rocket I dare say that if I knew him I should not be his friend at all it is a very dangerous thing to know one's friends you had really better keep yourself dry said the fire balloon that is the important thing very important for you I have no doubt answered the rocket but I shall weep if I choose and he actually burst into real tears which flowed down his stick like raindrops and nearly drowned two little beetles who were just thinking of setting up house together and were looking for a nice dry spot to live in he must have a truly romantic nature said the Catherine wheel for he weeps when there is nothing at all to weep about and she heaved a deep sigh and thought about the deal box but the Roman candle and the Bengal light were quite indignant and kept saying humbug at the top of their voices they were extremely practical and whenever they objected to anything they called it humbug then the moon rose like a wonderful silver shield and the stars began to shine and a sound of music came from the palace the prince and princess were leading the dance they danced so beautifully that the tall white lilies peeped in at the window and watched them and the great red poppies nodded their heads and beat time then ten o'clock struck and then eleven and then twelve at the last stroke of midnight everyone came out onto the terrace and the king sent for the royal pyrotechnist let the fireworks begin said the king and the royal pyrotechnist made a low bow and marched down to the end of the garden he had six attendants with him each of whom carried a lighted torch at the end of a long pole it was certainly a magnificent display whizz, whizz went to the Catherine wheel as she spun round and round boom, boom went the Roman candle then the squibs danced all over the place and the Bengal lights made everything look scarlet goodbye cried the fire balloon as he soared away dropping tiny blue sparks bang, bang answered the crackers who were enjoying themselves immensely everyone was a great success except the remarkable rocket he was so damp with crying that he could not go off at all the best thing in him was the gunpowder and that was so wet with tears that it was of no use all his poor relations to whom he would never speak except with a sneer shot up into the sky like wonderful golden flowers with blossoms of fire huzzah, huzzah cried the court and the little princess laughed with pleasure ha ha ha ha I suppose they are reserving me for some grand occasion said the rocket no doubt that is what it means and he looked more supercilious than ever the next day the workman came to put everything tidy this is evidently a deputation said the rocket I will receive them with becoming dignity so he put his nose in the air and began to frown severely as if he were thinking about some very important subject but they took no notice of him at all till they were just going away then one of them caught sight of him hello he cried what a bad rocket and he threw him over the wall into the ditch bad rocket bad rocket he said as he whirled through the air impossible grand rocket that is what the man said bad and grand sound very much the same indeed they often are the same and he fell into the mud it is not comfortable here he remarked but no doubt it is some fashionable watering place and they have sent me away to recruit my hell my nerves are certainly very much shattered and I require rest then a little frog with bright jeweled eyes and a green mottled coat swam up to him a new arrival I see said the frog well after all there was nothing like mud give me rainy weather and a ditch and I am quite happy do you think it will be a wet afternoon I am sure I hope so but the sky is quite blue and cloudless what a pity ahem said the rocket and he began to cough what a delightful voice you have cried the frog really it is quite like a croak and croaking is of course the most musical sound in the world you'll hear our glee club this evening we sit in the old duck pond close by the farmer's house and as soon as the moon rises we begin it's so entrancing that everybody lies awake to listen to us in fact it was only yesterday that I heard the farmer's wife say to a mother that she could not get a wink of sleep at night on account of us it is most gratifying to find oneself so popular ahem said the rocket angrily he was very much annoyed that he could not get a word in a delightful voice certainly continued the frog I hope you will come over to the duck pond I am off to look for my daughters I have six beautiful daughters and I am so afraid the pike may meet them he is a perfect monster and would have no hesitation in breakfasting of them well, goodbye I have enjoyed our conversation very much I assure you conversation indeed said the rocket you have talked the whole time yourself that is not conversation somebody must listen answered the frog and I like to do all the talking myself saves time and prevents arguments but I like arguments said the rocket I hope not said the frog complacently arguments are extremely vulgar for everybody in good society holds exactly the same opinions goodbye a second time I see my daughters in the distance and the little frog swam away you are a very irritating person said the rocket and very ill-bred I hate people who talk about themselves as you do when one wants to talk about oneself as I do it is what I call selfishness and selfishness is a most detestable thing especially to anyone of my temperament for I am well known for my sympathetic nature in fact you should take example by me you could not possibly have a better model now that you have the chance you had better avail yourself of it for I am going back to court almost immediately I am a great favorite I caught in fact the prince and princes were married yesterday in my honor of course you know nothing of these matters for you are a provincial there's no good talking to him said a dragonfly who was sitting on the top of a large brown bullrush no good at all for he has gone away well that is his loss not mine answered the rocket I am not going to stop talking to him merely because he pays no attention I am like hearing myself talk it is one of my greatest pleasures I often have long conversations all by myself and I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying then you should certainly lecture on philosophy said the dragonfly and he spread a pair of lovely gore's wings and soared away into the sky how very silly of him not to stay here said the rocket I am sure that he has not often got such a chance of improving his mind however I don't care a bit genius like mine is sure to be appreciated some day and he sank down a little deeper into the mud after some time a large white duck swam up to him she had yellow legs and webbed feet and was considered a great beauty on account of her waddle quack quack quack she said what a curious shape you are may I ask were you born like that or is it the result of an accident it is quite evident that you have always lived in the country answered the rocket otherwise you would know who I am however I excuse your ignorance it would be unfair to expect other people to be as remarkable as oneself you will no doubt be surprised to hear that I can fly up into the sky and come down in a shower of golden rain I don't think much of that said the duck as I cannot see what use it is to anyone now if you could plow the fields like the ox or draw a cart like the horse or look after the sheep like the carly dog that would be something my good creature cried the rocket in a very haughty tone of voice I see that you belong to the lower orders a person of my position is never useful we have certain accomplishments and that is more than sufficient I have no sympathy myself with industry of any kind least of all with such industries as you seem to recommend indeed I have always been of opinion that hard work is simply the refuge of people who have nothing whatever to do well well said the duck who was of a very peaceable disposition and never quarreled with anyone everybody has different tastes I hope at any rate that you are going to take up your residence here oh dear no cried the rocket I am merely a visitor a distinguished visitor the fact is that I find this place rather tedious there is neither society here nor solitude in fact it is essentially suburban I shall probably go back to court for I know that I am destined to make a sensation in the world I had thoughts of entering public life once myself remarked the duck there are so many things that need reforming indeed I took the chair at a meeting some time ago and we passed resolutions condemning everything that we did not like however they did not seem to have much effect now I go in for domesticity and look after my family I am made for public life said the rocket and so are all my relations even the humblest of them whenever we appear we excite great attention I have not actually appeared myself but when I do so it will be a magnificent sight as for domesticity it ages one rapidly and distracts one's mind from higher things the higher things of life how fine they are said the duck and that reminds me how hungry I feel and she swam away down the stream saying quack quack quack come back come back screamed the rocket I have a great deal to say to you but the duck paid no attention to him I am glad that she has gone he said to himself she has a decidedly middle-class mind and he sank a little deeper still into the mud and began to think about the loneliness of genius when suddenly two little boys in white smocks came running down the bank with a kettle and some faggots this must be the deputation said the rocket and he tried to look very dignified hello cried one of the boys look at this old stick I wonder how it came here and he picked the rocket out of the ditch old stick said the rocket impossible gold stick that is what he said gold stick is very complimentary in fact he mistakes me for one of the court dignitaries let us put it into the fire said the other boy it will help to boil the kettle so they piled the faggots together and put the rocket on top and lit the fire this is magnificent cried the rocket they are going to let me off in broad daylight so that everyone can see me we will go to sleep now they said when we wake up the kettle will be boiled and they lay down on the grass and shut their eyes the rocket was very damp so he took a long time to burn at last however the fire caught him now I am going off he cried and he made himself very stiff and straight I know I shall go much higher than the stars much higher than the moon much higher than the sun in fact I shall go so high that and he went straight up into the air delightful he cried I shall go on like this forever what a success I am but nobody saw him then he began to feel a curious tingling sensation all over him now I am going to explode he cried I shall set the whole world on fire and make such a noise that nobody will talk about anything else for a whole year and he certainly did explode bang bang went the gunpowder there was no doubt about it but nobody heard him not even the two little boys for they were sound asleep then all that was left of him was the stick and this fell down on the back of a goose making a walk by the side of the ditch good heavens cried the goose it is going to rain sticks and she rushed into the water I knew I should create a great sensation gasped the rocket and he went out End of the Remarkable Rocket by Oscar Wilde The Diamond Necklace by Guy de Maupassant of Dramatic Reading Seen in Story Collection Volume 2 This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Narrated by Betsy Walker Mathilde Loiselle, read by Sonia Monsieur Loiselle, read by Larry Wilson Jean Forestier, read by Beth Thomas Hewler, read by phone The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born as if by a slip of fate into a family of clerks she had no dowry, no expectations no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction she dressed plainly because she could not dress well but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a higher station since with women there is neither caste nor rank for beauty, grace and charm take the place of family and birth natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant a supple mind are their soul hierarchy and often make of women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies Mathilde suffered ceaselessly feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries she was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs the ugliness of the curtains all those things of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious tortured her and made her angry the sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework with despairing regrets and bewildering dreams she thought of silent anti-chambers hung with oriental tapestry illumined by tall bronze candelabra and of two great footmen in knee-breaches who sleep in the big armchairs made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove she thought of long reception halls hung with ancient silk of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends with men famous and sought after whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire when she sat down to dinner before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days opposite her husband who uncovered the soup-tourine and declared with a delighted air ah, the good soup I don't know anything better than that she thought of dainty dinners of shining silverware of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinx-like smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail she had no gowns no jewels nothing she loved nothing but that she felt made for that she would have liked so much to please to be envied to be charming to be sought after she had a friend a former schoolmate at the convent who was rich and whom she did not like to go see anymore because she felt so sad when she came home but one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand he said there is something for you she tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words the Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honour of Monsieur and Madame Loiselle's company at the Palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th instead of being delighted as her husband had hoped she threw the invitation on the table crossly muttering what do you wish me to do with that? why, my dear, I thought you would be glad you never go out and this is such a fine opportunity I had great trouble to get it everyone wants to go it is very select and they are not giving many invitations to clerks the whole official world will be there she looked at him with an irritated glance and said, impatiently and what do you wish me to put on my beck? he had not thought of that he stammered why, the gown you go to the theatre in it looks very well to me he stopped, distracted seeing that his wife was weeping two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth what's the matter? what's the matter? he answered by a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice while she wiped her wet cheeks nothing only I have no gown and therefore I can't go to this ball give your car to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am he was in despair he resumed come, let us see, Matilda how much would it cost a suitable gown which you could use on other occasions something very simple she reflected several seconds making her calculations and wondering also what some she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk finally she replied hesitating I don't know exactly but I think I could manage it with 400 francs he grew a little pale because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a Sunday but he said ah, very well, I give you 400 francs and try to have a pretty gown the day of the ball drew near and Madame Loiselle seemed sad, uneasy, anxious her frock was ready, however her husband said to her one evening what is the matter come, you have seemed very queer these last three days and she answered it annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry not a single ornament nothing to put on I shall look poverty stricken I would almost rather not go at all you might wear natural flowers said her husband they're very stylish at this time of year for 10 francs you can get two or three magnificent roses she was not convinced no, there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich how stupid you are her husband cried go look up your friend Madame Forrester and ask her to lend you some jewels you're intimate enough with her to do that she uttered a cry of joy true, I never thought of it the next day she went to her friend and told of her distress Madame Forrestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror took out a large jewel box brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loiselle choose, my dear she saw first some bracelets then a pearl necklace then a Venetian gold cross set with precious stones of admirable workmanship she tried on the ornaments before the mirror hesitated and could not make up her mind apart with them to give them back she kept asking haven't you any more why yes, look further, I don't know what you like suddenly she discovered in a black satin box a superb diamond necklace and her heart throbbed with a moderate desire her hands trembled as she took it she fastened it round her throat outside her high-necked waist and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror then she asked, hesitating filled with anxious doubt will you lend me this only this why yes, certainly she threw her arms around her friend's neck kissed her passionately then fled with her treasure the night of the ball arrived Madame Loiselle was a great success she was prettier than any other woman present elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy all the men looked at her, asked her name sought to be introduced all the attachés of the cabinet wished to waltz with her she was remarked by the minister himself she danced with rapture, with passion intoxicated by pleasure forgetting all in the triumph of her beauty in the glory of her success in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration these awakened desires and that sense of triumph which is so sweet to a woman's heart she left the ball about four o'clock in the morning her husband had been sleeping since midnight in a little deserted ante room with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball he threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought the modest wraps of common life the poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the baldress she felt this and wished to escape so as not to be remarked by the other women who were enveloping themselves in costly furs Loiselle held her back saying wait a bit, you will catch cold outside I will call a cab but she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs when they reached the street they could not find a carriage and began to look for one shouting after the cab men passing at a distance they went towards the Seine in despair, shivering with cold at last they found on the quay one of those ancient night cabs which as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during the day are never seen round Paris until after dark it took them to their dwelling on the Rue des Moctires and sadly they mounted the stairs to their flat all was ended for her as to him he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning she removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory but suddenly she uttered a cry she no longer had the necklace around her neck what is the matter with you? demanded her husband already half done dressed she turned distractedly toward him I have... I have... I've lost madam foe's tears and necklace she cried he stood up bewildered what? how? impossible they looked among the folds of her skirt of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere but they did not find it you're sure you had it on when you left the ball he asked yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house but if you lost it in the street we should have heard it fall ah, it must be in the cab yes, probably did you take his number? no, and you? you didn't notice it? no they looked thunderstruck at each other at last Loisell put on his clothes ah, I shall go back on foot said he over the whole route to see whether I can find it he went out she sat waiting on a chair in her ball-dress without strength to go to bed overwhelmed, without any fire without a thought her husband returned about seven o'clock he had found nothing he went to police headquarters to the newspaper offices to offer a reward he went to the cab companies everywhere, in fact whether he was urged by the least spark of hope she waited all day in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity Loisell returned at night with a hollow pale face he had discovered nothing you must write your friend said he that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it minted that will give us time to turn around she wrote at his dictation at the end of a week they had lost all hope Loisell who had aged five years declared we must consider how to replace that ornament the next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within he consulted his books it was not I, madam, who sold that necklace I must simply have furnished the case then they went from jeweler to jeweler searching for a necklace like the other trying to recall it both sick with chagrin and grief they found in a shop on the palais royale a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost it was worth 40,000 francs they could have it for 36 so they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet and they made a bargain that he should buy it back for 34,000 francs in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February Loisell possessed 18,000 francs which his father had left him he would borrow the rest he did borrow asking a thousand francs of one 500 of another five louis here three louis there he gave notes, took up ruinous obligations dealt with users and all the race of lenders he compromised all the rest of his life risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it and frightened by the trouble yet to come by the black misery that was about to fall upon him by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer he went to get the new necklace laying upon the jeweler's counter 36,000 francs when Madame Loisell took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner you should have returned it sooner I might have needed it she did not open the case as her friend had so much feared if she had detected the substitution what would she have thought, what would she have said would she not have taken Madame Loisell for a thief thereafter Madame Loisell knew the horrible existence of the needy she bore her part however with sudden heroism that dreadful debt must be paid she would pay it they dismissed their servant they changed their lodgings they rented a garret under the roof she came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen she washed the dishes using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans she washed the soiled linen the shirts and the dishcloths which she dried upon a line she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing and, dressed like a woman of the people she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher a basket on her arm, bargaining meeting with impertinence defending her miserable money, sue by sue every month they had to meet some notes renew others, obtain more time her husband worked evenings making up a tradesman's accounts and late at night he often copied manuscript for five sue a page this life lasted ten years at the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything with the rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest Madame Loiselle looked old now she had become the woman of impoverished households strong and hard and rough with frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water but sometimes, when her husband was at the office she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired what would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? who knows, who knows how strange and changeful is life how small a thing is needed to make or ruin us but one Sunday having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child it was Madame Forestier still young, still beautiful, still charming Madame Loiselle felt moved should she speak to her? yes, certainly and now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it why not? she went up good day, Jean the other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good wife did not recognise her at all and stammered but Madame, I do not know you must have mistaken no, I am Mathilde Loiselle her friend uttered a cry oh, my poor Mathilde, how you are changed yes, I have had a pretty hard life since I last saw you and great poverty and that because of you of me? how so? do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball? yes, well well, I lost it what do you mean? you brought it back I brought you back another exactly like it and it has taken us ten years to pay for it you can understand that it was not easy for us for us who had nothing at last it has ended and I am very glad Madame Forestier had stopped you say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine? yes, you never noticed it then they were very similar and she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous Madame Forestier deeply moved took her hands oh, my poor Mathilde, why my necklace was paced it was worth at most only five hundred francs end of the diamond necklace