Вітер у вербах
The Open Road
Hefranklypreferredthepaddock,andtookadealofcatching.MeantimeToadpackedthelockersstilltighterwithnecessaries,andhungnose-bags,netsofonions,bundlesofhay,andbasketsfromthebottomofthecart.Atlastthehorsewascaughtandharnessed,andtheysetoff,alltalkingatonce,eachanimaleithertrudgingbythesideofthecartorsittingontheshaft,asthehumourtookhim.Itwasagoldenafternoon.Thesmellofthedusttheykickedupwasrichandsatisfying;outofthickorchardsoneithersidetheroad,birdscalledandwhistledtothemcheerily;good-naturedwayfarers,passingthem,gavethem"Goodday,"orstoppedtosaynicethingsabouttheirbeautifulcart;andrabbits,sittingattheirfrontdoorsinthehedgerows,helduptheirfore-paws,andsaid,"Omy!Omy!Omy!"
Lateintheevening,tiredandhappyandmilesfromhome,theydrewuponaremotecommonfarfromhabitations,turnedthehorseloosetograze,andatetheirsimplesuppersittingonthegrassbythesideofthecart.Toadtalkedbigaboutallhewasgoingtodointhedaystocome,whilestarsgrewfullerandlargerallaroundthem,andayellowmoon,appearingsuddenlyandsilentlyfromnowhereinparticular,cametokeepthemcompanyandlistentotheirtalk.
