The Wind in the Willows / Ветер в ивах. Книга для чтения на английском языке

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 at 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.[5] 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 mouth full. 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 arm-chair 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?»

«Oh, 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 he'd only employ a decent, steady, well-trained animal, pay him good wages, and leave everything to him, he'd get on all right. 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 – literally 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! we're his friends – oughtn't we 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 assented, 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 has really turned, and the nights are shorter, and halfway through them one rouses and feels fidgety and wanting to be up and doing by sunrise, if not before – YOU know!..».

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Примечания

1

It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said «Bother!» and «O blow!» and also «Hang spring-cleaning!» and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. – Не стоит удивляться тому, что он внезапно бросил швабру на пол, сказал: «Хватит!», «К черту!», «Долой весеннюю приборку!», – и выскочил из дома, даже не надев пальто.

2

and steamers that flung hard bottles – at least bottles were certainly flung, and FROM steamers, so presumably BY them — и про пароходы, которые разбрасывают бутылки, по крайней мере, бутылки летят именно с пароходов, т. е. можно сказать, что они их и разбрасывают

3

in a wicker garden-chair — на плетеном садовом стуле

4

Come and bear a hand, can't you! – Ну же, иди и помоги нам!

5

When at last they were thoroughly toasted, the Badger summoned them to the table, where he had been busy laying a repast. – Когда они окончательно согрелись, Барсук, который был занят тем, что накрывал на стол, позвал их есть.