Вітер у вербах
Dulce Domum
Bustleabout,oldchap!"
Encouragedbyhisinspiritingcompanion,theMolerousedhimselfanddustedandpolishedwithenergyandheartiness,whiletheRat,runningtoandfrowitharmfulsoffuel,soonhadacheerfulblazeroaringupthechimney.HehailedtheMoletocomeandwarmhimself;butMolepromptlyhadanotherfitoftheblues,droppingdownonacouchindarkdespairandburyinghisfaceinhisduster."Rat,"hemoaned,"howaboutyoursupper,youpoor,cold,hungry,wearyanimal?I’venothingtogiveyou—nothing—notacrumb!"
"Whatafellowyouareforgivingin!"saidtheRatreproachfully."Why,onlyjustnowIsawasardine-openeronthekitchendresser,quitedistinctly;andeverybodyknowsthatmeanstherearesardinesaboutsomewhereintheneighbourhood.Rouseyourself!pullyourselftogether,andcomewithmeandforage."
Theywentandforagedaccordingly,huntingthrougheverycupboardandturningouteverydrawer.Theresultwasnotsoverydepressingafterall,thoughofcourseitmighthavebeenbetter;atinofsardines—aboxofcaptain’sbiscuits,nearlyfull—andaGermansausageencasedinsilverpaper.
"There’sabanquetforyou!"observedtheRat,ashearrangedthetable.
