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The Open Road

           Atlasttheyturnedintotheirlittlebunksinthecart;andToad,kickingouthislegs,sleepilysaid,"Well,goodnight,youfellows!Thisisthereallifeforagentleman!Talkaboutyouroldriver!"

           "Idon’ttalkaboutmyriver,"repliedthepatientRat."YouknowIdon’t,Toad.ButIthinkaboutit,"headdedpathetically,inalowertone:"Ithinkaboutitallthetime!"

           TheMolereachedoutfromunderhisblanket,feltfortheRat’spawinthedarkness,andgaveitasqueeze."I’lldowhateveryoulike,Ratty,"hewhispered."Shallwerunawayto-morrowmorning,quiteearlyveryearlyandgobacktoourdearoldholeontheriver?"

           "No,no,we’llseeitout,"whisperedbacktheRat."Thanksawfully,butIoughttostickbyToadtillthistripisended.Itwouldn’tbesafeforhimtobelefttohimself.Itwon’ttakeverylong.Hisfadsneverdo.Goodnight!"

           TheendwasindeednearerthaneventheRatsuspected.

           AftersomuchopenairandexcitementtheToadsleptverysoundly,andnoamountofshakingcouldrousehimoutofbednextmorning.SotheMoleandRatturnedto,quietlyandmanfully,andwhiletheRatsawtothehorse,andlitafire,andcleanedlastnight’scupsandplatters,andgotthingsreadyforbreakfast,theMoletrudgedofftothenearestvillage,alongwayoff,formilkandeggsandvariousnecessariestheToadhad,ofcourse,forgottentoprovide.

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