Вітер у вербах
The River Bank
I’veneverbeenthere,andI’mnevergoing,noryoueither,ifyou’vegotanysenseatall.Don’teverrefertoitagain,please.Nowthen!Here’sourbackwateratlast,wherewe’regoingtolunch."
Leavingthemainstream,theynowpassedintowhatseemedatfirstsightlikealittlelandlockedlake.Greenturfslopeddowntoeitheredge,brownsnakytree-rootsgleamedbelowthesurfaceofthequietwater,whileaheadofthemthesilveryshoulderandfoamytumbleofaweir,arm-in-armwitharestlessdrippingmill-wheel,thatheldupinitsturnagrey-gabledmill-house,filledtheairwithasoothingmurmurofsound,dullandsmothery,yetwithlittleclearvoicesspeakingupcheerfullyoutofitatintervals.ItwassoverybeautifulthattheMolecouldonlyholdupbothfore-pawsandgasp:"Omy!Omy!Omy!"
TheRatbroughttheboatalongsidethebank,madeherfast,helpedthestillawkwardMolesafelyashore,andswungouttheluncheon-basket.TheMolebeggedasafavourtobeallowedtounpackitallbyhimself;andtheRatwasverypleasedtoindulgehim,andtosprawlatfulllengthonthegrassandrest,whilehisexcitedfriendshookoutthetable-clothandspreadit,tookoutallthemysteriouspacketsonebyoneandarrangedtheircontentsindueorder,stillgasping:"Omy!Omy!"ateachfreshrevelation.
