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The Return of Ulysses
ThroughtheFrenchwindowsofthebreakfast-roomhecouldseetheMoleandtheWaterRatsittinginwickerchairsoutonthelawn,evidentlytellingeachotherstories;roaringwithlaughterandkickingtheirshortlegsupintheair.TheBadger,whowasinanarm-chairanddeepinthemorningpaper,merelylookedupandnoddedwhenToadenteredtheroom.ButToadknewhisman,sohesatdownandmadethebestbreakfasthecould,merelyobservingtohimselfthathewouldgetsquarewiththeotherssoonerorlater.Whenhehadnearlyfinished,theBadgerlookedupandremarkedrathershortly:"I’msorry,Toad,butI’mafraidthere’saheavymorning’sworkinfrontofyou.Yousee,wereallyoughttohaveaBanquetatonce,tocelebratethisaffair.It’sexpectedofyou—infact,it’stherule."
"O,allright!"saidtheToad,readily."Anythingtooblige.ThoughwhyonearthyoushouldwanttohaveaBanquetinthemorningIcannotunderstand.ButyouknowIdonotlivetopleasemyself,butmerelytofindoutwhatmyfriendswant,andthentryandarrangeitfor’em,youdearoldBadger!"
"Don’tpretendtobestupiderthanyoureallyare,"repliedtheBadger,crossly;"anddon’tchuckleandsplutterinyourcoffeewhileyou’retalking;it’snotmanners.WhatImeanis,theBanquetwillbeatnight,ofcourse,buttheinvitationswillhavetobewrittenandgotoffatonce,andyou’vegottowrite’em.
