The Willows and Beyond (16 page)

“Young Rat, stir yourself and fetch Mole over here, for he must not be kept waiting in the cold!”

Which was all very well, as the Mole observed to Nephew, except that in former days the Rat would have stirred
himself
to be the ferryman. So, after all, decided Mole, Ratty was really
not
himself, and whether it was the advance of years, the decline of the River, or something more, a way must be found to put the life and brightness back into his old friend’s eyes.

Because the Rat rested and slept more than formerly, the Mole found himself in Young Rat’s company a good deal. How impressed the Mole was by the youngster’s own quiet care of his “Cap’n”, his unassuming modesty where his considerable River skills were concerned, and the fond way he would talk of his younger days in his “old Pa’s” company.

“How long it seems that Ratty has been out of sorts. It’s the first day of December already,” murmured the Mole one morning, “and Christmas is almost upon us.

“Christmas?” said Young Rat. “My Pa used to mention it from his own childhood, but where we lived we never celebrated it.”

“Never celebrated the Festive Season!” cried the astonished Mole.

“We were in hot climes, in strange places, where people celebrated other things at other times.”

“But that’s terrible. That’s —The Mole could not find the right words to express his dismay that Young Rat, for all his nautical skills and worldly experience, had never celebrated Christmas.

“Pa said it wasn’t the same in a hot place. Said a decorated tree looked funny in the sun. Said turkey and plum pudding didn’t taste the same.”

Then, after due pause, he added, “Pa also said his happiest ever times were at Christmas, before he went a-wandering.”

The Mole was silent awhile thinking, and then a little longer, for till that moment it had never occurred to him just how much Young Rat must still grieve for his lost father.

“You miss your father, do you not?” he said. Young Rat nodded and replied, “Never had a chance to say goodbye. One moment we were together and the next the Gruesome got him and he had only strength left to get me a berth with the Royal Mail. Gave me this old marlin spike, shook my hand, and said that he’d done the best he could by me and the rest was up to me and I must make my own passage now But — but —“

The youngster bowed his head, and the Mole, who seemed to have done a good deal of comforting of late, put his arm about him and let him sob as the River rolled by and the dank morning mist began to clear.

“Pa said — he — he —“

“What did he say?” prompted the Mole.

“He used to say he always wanted to celebrate Christmas at home just once more, but now he never will and I will never see him again.

A little time later, when a further round of sobbing was done, the Mole said, “Well! We’ll just have to see that
you
celebrate Christmas this year!”

“And Mr Ratty,” said Young Rat, “he can too.”

“Indeed, what a good idea, what a
very
good idea —
and
Ratty too! We’ll give you both a Christmas that none of us will forget and that will bring good cheer to all of us!”

The youngster brightened and his eyes lit up.

“What exactly do we have to
do
at Christmas?”

The Mole said, “Do? We don’t have to
do
anything very much, except think a little of what our friends might want — for we give each of them a gift, don’t you see? — and have about us only those things and people and memories that we like and cherish. Then there’s the little matter of the festive board, which is to say the food and drink, in which department, if I may say so without being immodest, I am regarded locally as something of an expert. Why, my plum pudding —“What’s plum pudding?”

“Good heavens, there
is
a lot about Christmas you don’t know For there’s all the speeches and formality —that adds a little extra to the occasion, though you can take it from me that Mr Toad considers himself an authority on such matters!”

“When does it start?”

“Starts a long time back, for Christmas is in our hearts and it’s always there, waiting to come forth to lighten the darkness at the turning of the winter solstice. But when does it show its cheerful face once more? Why, I think that’s when the Yule log is lit in the fireplace of each and every home in the land, and those gathered there make three silent wishes, one for peace amongst us all, one for contentment to those who have had a struggle to find it in the year just past, and one for themselves, themselves alone.”

Thus did the two animals talk, the Mole bringing forth memories of his happy past with which to whet the appetite of Young Rat for a better future.

“Now let us go and tell Ratty that we intend to enjoy this Christmas, whatever the circumstances! Do not mind if he complains, and says it is all too much fuss, just as he always has in the past, but take it instead as a sign he’s getting better!”

But Ratty did not complain too much, and it was very soon generally agreed that this year it would be right and proper to celebrate Christmas all together.

“In which case,” declared the Badger, “there is only one place to do it, and that’s Toad Hall.”

Toad needed no persuading, and took it as a compliment that they wished to celebrate Christmas with him.

“Of course, in the days of the old Toad Hall, and my father, when I was young,” said he, “we opened our doors to all the River Bank folk, even the weasels and stoats. But in those days they knew their place and were not insubordinate. Eh, Badger?”

“In those days, I am beginning to think a great many things were a good deal better than they are now,” said the Badger darkly. “I had a letter today from the Town Hall regarding their intentions to build in the Wild Wood. We shall have to fight them to the very end! However, however… that is for the future. Back to more cheerful matters — let us make this a Christmas feast to remember.”

“It goes without saying that we can leave the catering in the hands of Mole here, and Nephew!” cried Toad.

“Hear, hear!” cried the others, as the Mole blushed and raised his hands modestly in protest.

“My kitchen and its staff will be at your disposal,” said Toad grandly.

“The invitations will be my department,” said the Badger, “with Portly and Grandson to help deliver them.”

“Use my letterheads, old fellow, and do not stint on the ink: I have plenty of it!” declared Toad.

“Now, when it comes to games and so forth,” continued Badger, “this is an area in which Otter excels, if I remember aright, and I suggest he should be in charge!”

“Let me know what games you’re lacking, Otter, and I’ll send to the Town for it,” said Toad.

“As for table decorations, crackers and the like,” said the Badger, “I would have asked Ratty, but as he may not feel up to it at the moment, I wonder if—”

“Sir,” interrupted Young Rat, “may I say something?”

The Badger nodded.

“Mr Ratty would be disappointed not to do anything, so as I am his assistant, could I ask him to tell
me
what to do?”

“Now that is the Christmas spirit!” said the Badger approvingly. “I am sure that Mole will see that Ratty does not overtax himself for he is a stickler for getting things in their right and proper place.”

“So am I,” said Young Rat quietly.

So the day was organized, each animal having his part to play.

“But what am
I
to do, Badger?” cried Toad, who was beginning to feel that matters had rather been taken out of his control.

The truth was that the Badger remembered only too well a particular Christmas, mercifully a very long time ago, when Toad’s father had most unfortunately put the matter of Christmas’s organization into his errant son’s hands. As a result, he had made the Badger promise that when Toad senior passed on he, Badger, would see to it that Toad was never again allowed sole responsibility for Christmas arrangements.

The Badger blinked, and a dark shadow crossed his face at the memory of the fell consequences of that dreadful hour; a day that had included an Emeritus Bishop being suspended from a chandelier, upside down; the father of the present Senior Commissioner of Police being wrapped up and given as a Christmas box to the dustmen; and — the injustice of it — the present High Judge’s uncle, then the highest Law Lord in the Land, being confined for a large part of the Christmas meal in darkness in the cellars below, without even a mince pie to his name.

“You,
Toad?” growled the Badger, forbearing to remind him of these grim events.

“Yes, me’ said Toad in a small voice. “I would like to do something, if you please. It is, after all, my home. And, if I may say so, it would be reasonable if Master Toad had a part to play as well.”

Badger had given considerable thought to this matter, for whilst it was wise to keep Toad well away from the organization of the Christmas festivities, they could hardly exclude him, and in any case would not wish to do so. Indeed, without Toad, disasters included, Christmas would not be the same. The Badger remembered all too well a certain party at his home that had been gloom itself till Toad had turned up and changed things altogether.

“Toad,” said the Badger gravely, “I have left you till last because what I want to ask you to do —“

“Ask it!” cried Toad.

“What we all want to ask you to consider —“

“I shall do it for you all,” said Toad magnanimously.

“— is difficult —“

“Nothing’s too difficult for Toad of Toad Hall.”

“— and demanding —”

“Demanding!Tshaw!”

“— and will take thought —”

“Thinking’s my best department!”

“— and a good deal of time —”

“I have made time my servant, Badger, old fellow, and that’s why I achieve so much so brilliantly”

“— and no one here could do it better.”

“Well, well,” said Toad, strutting about and puffing himself up. “Some lead and others follow, some can do and some can’t, some, and I may say a very few and I am one, can stride the world like a giant, as the poet said, or something like it, while others merely crawl about, don’t you know, and — what exactly is it you want me to do?”

“Make a speech.”

“A speech?” said Toad with incredulous delight, for it was not often that the Badger offered him this concession, knowing that his speeches went on too long and generally dwelt upon a single theme, namely the glory of toads as exemplified by himself.

“We would like you to make the Christmas speech,” said the Badger, “though it is a great deal to ask and you might not have time to prepare. Perhaps you would prefer it if Mole —“Mole? Ha! Can’t string two words together without pausing in the middle of them.”

“Or Ratty, if he’s well enough?”

“Ratty? Never could make speeches except with a nautical flavour and we’re a long way from the sea.

“Or myself, perhaps?”

“You, Badger? Make the Christmas speech? I don’t mean to be discourteous, old chap, but you’d need a lot of coaching before you could raise a laugh from an audience, and there just isn’t time.”

“Humph!” said the Badger.

“Of course I shall do it! It’ll take time to prepare and I regret I won’t have time to help with the other things, and I’ll have to find a suitable subject, and — Badger, I must go to my study at once. I’m sorry to leave you, but — My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen — Will there be any ladies? My Lords and Gentlemen doesn’t sound quite right. Will there be any Lords?”

Prattling thus, and with his time now answered for very fully till Christmas, Toad happily left them to sort out everything else.

As the Mole had hoped, it did prove to be a Christmas to remember. The heavy snow that finally began to fall three days before the festive day soon turned the countryside soft, and quiet. Yet the snow was not so thick that the field-mice, who from time immemorial had made their round of carol-singing upon Christmas Eve, could not struggle through, make themselves heard, and step shyly inside the door of each house they visited to eat mince pies and drink hot punch. Their last call was at Rat’s house where Ratty was bundled up by Mole and Young Rat and put into his boat to be rowed gently up the River to Toad Hall, the choir following his passage by way of the River Bank, their lights bobbing and ducking in the dark, and the carols clear in the still and snowy night.