Вітер у вербах

           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.