Cantitate/Preț
Produs

The Wind in the Willows

Autor Kenneth Grahame
en Limba Engleză Paperback – 31 mar 1908 – vârsta până la 12 ani
The Wind in the Willows is a children's novel by Kenneth Grahame, first published in 1908. Alternately slow moving and fast-paced, it focuses on four anthropomorphised animals in a pastoral version of Edwardian England. The novel is notable for its mixture of mysticism, adventure, morality and camaraderie, and celebrated for its evocation of the nature of the Thames Valley. In 1908, Grahame retired from his position as secretary of the Bank of England. He moved back to Berkshire, where he had lived as a child, and spent his time by the River Thames doing much as the animal characters in his book do - as the book says, "simply messing about in boats" - and expanding the bedtime stories he had earlier told his son Alastair into a manuscript for the book. The novel was in its 31st printing when playwright A. A. Milne adapted part of it for the stage as Toad of Toad Hall in 1929. Almost a century later, it was adapted again for the stage as a musical by Julian Fellowes. In 2003, The Wind in the Willows was listed at number 16 in the BBC's survey The Big Read. Kenneth Grahame was born on 8 March 1859 in Edinburgh. When he was 5, his mother died from puerperal fever, and his father, who had a drinking problem, gave the care of his four children over to their grandmother, who lived in Cookham Dean in Berkshire. There they lived in a spacious but dilapidated home, "The Mount", in extensive grounds by the River Thames, and were introduced to the riverside and boating by their uncle, David Ingles, curate at Cookham Dean church.[2] At Christmas 1865 the chimney of the house collapsed and the children moved to Fern Hill Cottage in Cranbourne, Berkshire. In 1866, their father tried to overcome his drinking problem and took the children back to live with him in Argyll, Scotland, but after a year they returned to their grandmother's house in Cranbourne, where Kenneth lived until he entered St Edward's School, Oxford in 1868.[3] During his early years at St. Edwards the boys had freedom to explore the old city with its quaint shops, historic buildings, and cobbled streets, St Giles' Fair, the idyllic upper reaches of the River Thames, and the nearby countryside.[4] Grahame married Elspeth Thomson in 1899; they had only one child, a boy named Alastair (whose nickname was "Mouse") born blind in one eye and plagued by health problems throughout his life.[5] When Alastair was about four years old, Grahame would tell him bedtime stories, some of which were about a toad, and when he holidayed alone he would write further tales of Toad, Mole, Ratty and Badger in letters to Alastair.[3] In 1908 Grahame took early retirement from his job at the Bank of England and moved with his wife and son to an old farmhouse in Blewbury, where he used the bedtime stories he had told Alastair as a basis for the manuscript of The Wind in the Willows. A number of publishers rejected the manuscript. It was published in the UK by Methuen and Co., and later in the US by Scribner. The critics, who were hoping for a third volume in the style of Graham's earlier works; The Golden Age and Dream Days, generally gave negative reviews.[3] The public loved it, however, and within a few years it sold in such numbers that many reprints were required. In 1909, then sitting US President Theodore Roosevelt wrote to Grahame to tell him that he had "read it and reread it, and have come to accept the characters as old friends
Citește tot Restrânge

Toate formatele și edițiile

Toate formatele și edițiile Preț Express
Paperback (77) 1800 lei  3-5 săpt. +391 lei  7-13 zile
  Wordsworth Editions – 28 feb 1993 1800 lei  3-5 săpt. +391 lei  7-13 zile
  Wordsworth Editions – 28 feb 1993 2117 lei  3-5 săpt. +375 lei  7-13 zile
  WORDSWORTH EDITIONS LTD – aug 2021 2246 lei  3-5 săpt. +469 lei  7-13 zile
  Penguin Random House Group – 31 dec 2000 3232 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Bantam Classics – 31 dec 1919 3728 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Random House UK – 31 iul 2012 3803 lei  26-32 zile +1538 lei  7-13 zile
  OUP OXFORD – 7 iul 2010 3852 lei  3-5 săpt. +709 lei  7-13 zile
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 3932 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Alma Books COMMIS – 20 apr 2017 3987 lei  3-5 săpt. +1026 lei  7-13 zile
  Penguin Books – 27 feb 2008 4246 lei  26-32 zile +1584 lei  7-13 zile
  HarperCollins Publishers – 31 mai 2017 4456 lei  3-5 săpt. +681 lei  7-13 zile
  Aladdin Paperbacks – 28 feb 1989 4458 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 4503 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 4621 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 4726 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Mint Editions – 31 mar 2021 4815 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 4838 lei  3-5 săpt.
  4946 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 4968 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Faber and Faber – iul 2015 5162 lei  3-5 săpt. +1025 lei  7-13 zile
  Simon & Brown – 29 apr 2012 5634 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Penguin Books – 26 oct 2005 5700 lei  26-32 zile +1941 lei  7-13 zile
  Boxer Books – 2 sep 2024 5849 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 5958 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 5980 lei  3-5 săpt.
  6007 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6052 lei  3-5 săpt.
  6104 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6216 lei  3-5 săpt.
  EMPIRE BOOKS – 31 oct 2011 6278 lei  3-5 săpt.
  6432 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6458 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6692 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 9 dec 2015 6714 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 9 dec 2015 6810 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 6858 lei  3-5 săpt.
  6876 lei  3-5 săpt.
  HarperCollins Publishers – 18 oct 1995 7025 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 7073 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 7077 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 7246 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Klett Sprachen GmbH – 15 apr 2024 7588 lei  17-23 zile +705 lei  7-13 zile
  7955 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 8067 lei  3-5 săpt.
  www.bnpublishing.com – 20 oct 2013 8068 lei  3-5 săpt.
  History Press – 31 mar 2021 8437 lei  3-5 săpt. +2055 lei  7-13 zile
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 8777 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 9904 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Bottom of the Hill Publishing – 30 iun 2010 10052 lei  3-5 săpt.
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 10106 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Les prairies numériques – 9 noi 2020 10482 lei  3-5 săpt.
  GRIFFIN – 30 sep 1996 11463 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Outlook Verlag – 24 sep 2019 17906 lei  3-5 săpt.
  DOVER PUBLICATIONS INC. – 31 aug 1995 3325 lei  41-52 zile
  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform – 4947 lei  6-8 săpt.
  5151 lei  6-8 săpt.
  6455 lei  6-8 săpt.
  6508 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Lulu.Com – 28 mai 2017 7122 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Wayward Park Publishing – 24 noi 2016 7241 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Waking Lion Press – 31 iul 2009 7713 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Bloomsbury Publishing – 9 iul 2015 7816 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Brian Westland – 31 mar 1908 8302 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Rupa Publication – 9 apr 2018 8528 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Norilana Books – 20 aug 2007 8864 lei  6-8 săpt.
  BLURB INC – 21 ian 2019 8964 lei  17-23 zile
  KUPERARD (BRAVO LTD) – 4 iul 2005 10238 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Simon & Brown – 30 apr 2011 11526 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 29 oct 2018 11992 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 13 noi 2018 12027 lei  38-44 zile
  Echo Library – 30 iun 2003 12241 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 31 oct 2011 12468 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 30 noi 2011 12603 lei  38-44 zile
  Alpha Editions – 15 dec 2019 12615 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Read & Co. Children's – 5 noi 2020 14018 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Blurb – 10 feb 2019 18247 lei  38-44 zile
  Echo Library – 31 mar 2006 19026 lei  38-44 zile
Hardback (32) 4278 lei  3-5 săpt. +1419 lei  7-13 zile
  Sterling Publishing (NY) – aug 2007 4278 lei  3-5 săpt. +1419 lei  7-13 zile
  Pan Macmillan – 22 mar 2017 4809 lei  3-5 săpt. +3314 lei  7-13 zile
  WORDSWORTH EDITIONS LTD – 6 sep 2018 4871 lei  3-5 săpt. +1215 lei  7-13 zile
  Flame Tree Publishing – 13 sep 2021 5083 lei  3-5 săpt. +1121 lei  7-13 zile
  Penguin Random House Children's UK – 3 mai 2017 5381 lei  26-32 zile +2100 lei  7-13 zile
  Hachette Children's Group – 11 oct 2023 6485 lei  3-5 săpt. +3569 lei  7-13 zile
  EVERYMAN – 20 oct 1993 7301 lei  26-32 zile +4471 lei  7-13 zile
  UNION SQUARE & CO – 11 iul 2024 7587 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Welbeck Publishing Group – 8 dec 2021 7626 lei  3-5 săpt. +4362 lei  7-13 zile
  Mint Editions – 19 apr 2021 7634 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Penguin Books – 27 feb 2008 7914 lei  26-32 zile +2883 lei  7-13 zile
  Penguin Random House Children's UK – 2 mai 2018 8232 lei  26-32 zile +3420 lei  7-13 zile
  Templar Publishing – 2 oct 2019 9091 lei  3-4 săpt. +4870 lei  7-13 zile
  Nosy Crow – 31 aug 2022 9462 lei  3-5 săpt. +3228 lei  7-13 zile
  HarperCollins Publishers – 4 mar 2020 9805 lei  3-5 săpt. +2372 lei  7-13 zile
  OUP OXFORD – 31 ian 2024 10063 lei  3-5 săpt. +3311 lei  7-13 zile
  Sterling Publishing (NY) – 24 mai 2006 11662 lei  17-23 zile +1011 lei  7-13 zile
  Atheneum Books for Young Readers – 31 aug 1983 12116 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Applesauce Press – 28 apr 2014 12279 lei  3-5 săpt.
  chiltern publishing – 5 aug 2024 12597 lei  3-5 săpt. +1401 lei  7-13 zile
  Applesauce Press – 26 dec 2022 15749 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Sterling Publishing – 29 feb 2012 16462 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Walker Books Ltd. – 3 sep 2000 17725 lei  3-5 săpt. +5249 lei  7-13 zile
  Outlook Verlag – 24 sep 2019 32661 lei  3-5 săpt.
  Norilana Books – 20 aug 2007 15248 lei  6-8 săpt.
  Lulu.Com – 28 mai 2017 16192 lei  6-8 săpt.
  16857 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 29 oct 2018 17297 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 3 noi 2011 17908 lei  38-44 zile
  18024 lei  38-44 zile
  Simon & Brown – 13 noi 2018 18052 lei  38-44 zile
  Read & Co. Children's – 5 noi 2020 20783 lei  6-8 săpt.

Preț: 8302 lei

Nou

Puncte Express: 125

Preț estimativ în valută:
1589 1680$ 1325£

Carte tipărită la comandă

Livrare economică 28 decembrie 24 - 11 ianuarie 25

Preluare comenzi: 021 569.72.76

Specificații

ISBN-13: 9781774416914
ISBN-10: 1774416913
Pagini: 164
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 9 mm
Greutate: 0.23 kg
Editura: Brian Westland

Textul de pe ultima copertă

The Wind in the Willows is a book for those 'who keep the spirit of youth alive in them; of life, sunshine, running water, woodlands, dusty roads, winter firesides.'

Descriere

Descriere de la o altă ediție sau format:
'Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.'So says Rat to Mole, as he introduces him to the delights of the river and his friends Toad, the spirit of rebellion, and Badger, the spirit of England. But it is a world where the motor-car is about to wreck the gipsy caravan, the revolutionaries in the Wild Wood are threatening the social fabric, the god Pan is abroad, and the warm seductive whispers of the south are drifting into the English lanes.An international children's classic, The Wind in the Willows grew from the author's letters to his young son, yet it is concerned almost exclusively with adult themes: fear of radical changes in political, social, and economic power. Mole's acceptance into the conservative world of the River Bank, and Toad's wild attempts to escape from it, are narrated in virtuoso language ranging from lively parody to elaborate fin-de-siècle mysticism. A profoundly English fiction with a world following, it is a book for adults adopted by children, a timeless masterpiece, and a vital portrait of an age. ABOUT THE SERIES: For over 100 years Oxford World's Classics has made available the widest range of literature from around the globe. Each affordable volume reflects Oxford's commitment to scholarship, providing the most accurate text plus a wealth of other valuable features, including expert introductions by leading authorities, helpful notes to clarify the text, up-to-date bibliographies for further study, and much more.

Notă biografică

Kenneth Grahame (Author)
Kenneth Grahame (1859-1932) was born in Edinburgh, but grew up with relatives in Berkshire where he developed his love for the countryside surrounding the upper parts of the River Thames. He was educated at St Edward's in Oxford, but instead of going on to Oxford University he joined the Bank of England, where he rose to become Secretary. He wrote several books includingThe Golden AgeandDream Dayswhich includes the short story'The Reluctant Dragon' (later made into a Disney movie). Kenneth Grahame developed the character of Toad inThe Wind in the Willowsto amuse his young son, Alistair. It was published in 1908 and still remains a best-loved children's classic.

John Burningham (Illustrator)
John Burningham was born in 1936. He studied illustration at the Central School of Art. His first children's book,Borka,was published in 1963, and it was awarded the Kate Greenaway Medal as the best illustrated book of the year. John Burningham collaborated with Ian Fleming onChitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang,designing the model of the famous car. He lived in London with his wife Helen Oxenbury, also a well-known author and illustrator. John Burningham died on January 4th, 2019.


Extras

Chapter One


The River Bank

The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said, “Bother!” and “O blow!” and also “Hang spring-cleaning!” and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above was calling him imperiously, and he made for the steep little tunnel which answered in his case to the gravelled carriage-drive owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged, and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, “Up we go! Up we go!” till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow.

“This is fine!” he said to himself. “This is better than whitewashing!” The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion of the cellarage he had lived in so long the carol of happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side.

“Hold up!” said an elderly rabbit at the gap. “Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!” He was bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. “Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!” he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. “How stupid you are! Why didn’t you tell him—” “Well, why didn’t you say—” “You might have reminded him—” and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then much too late, as is always the case.

It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him and whispering “whitewash!” he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to be the only idle dog among all these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.

He thought his happiness was complete when, as he meandered aimlessly along, suddenly he stood by the edge of a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before—this sleek, sinuous, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with a gurgle and leaving them with a laugh, to fling itself on fresh playmates that shook themselves free, and were caught and held again. All was a-shake and a-shiver—glints and gleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble. The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spellbound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea.

As he sat on the grass and looked across the river, a dark hole in the bank opposite, just above the water’s edge, caught his eye, and dreamily he fell to considering what a nice, snug dwelling-place it would make for an animal with few wants and fond of a bijou riverside residence, above flood level and remote from noise and dust. As he gazed, something bright and small seemed to twinkle down in the heart of it, vanished, then twinkled once more like a tiny star. But it could hardly be a star in such an unlikely situation; and it was too glittering and small for a glow-worm. Then, as he looked, it winked at him, and so declared itself to be an eye; and a small face began gradually to grow up round it, like a frame round a picture.

A brown little face, with whiskers.

A grave round face, with the same twinkle in its eye that had first attracted his notice.

Small neat ears and thick silky hair.

It was the Water Rat!

Then the two animals stood and regarded each other cautiously.

“Hullo, Mole!” said the Water Rat.

“Hullo, Rat!” said the Mole.

“Would you like to come over?” enquired the Rat presently.

“Oh, it’s all very well to talk,” said the Mole rather pettishly, he being new to a river and riverside life and its ways.

The Rat said nothing, but stooped and unfastened a rope and hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little boat which the Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for two animals; and the Mole’s whole heart went out to it at once, even though he did not yet fully understand its uses.

The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up his forepaw as the Mole stepped gingerly down. “Lean on that!” he said. “Now then, step lively!” and the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself actually seated in the stern of a real boat.

“This has been a wonderful day!” said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. “Do you know, I’ve never been in a boat before in all my life.”

“What?” cried the Rat, open-mouthed: “Never been in a—you never—well I—what have you been doing, then?”

“Is it so nice as all that?” asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.

“Nice? It’s the only thing,” said the Water Rat solemnly as he leant forward for his stroke. “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,” he went on dreamily: “messing—about—in—boats; messing—”

“Look ahead, Rat!” cried the Mole suddenly.

It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt. The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air.

“—about in boats—or with boats,” the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. “In or out of ’em, it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that’s the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don’t; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you’re always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you’ve done it there’s always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you’d much better not. Look here! If you’ve really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop down the river together, and have a long day of it?”

The Mole waggled his toes from sheer happiness, spread his chest with a sigh of full contentment, and leant back blissfully into the soft cushions. “What a day I’m having!” he said. “Let us start at once!”

“Hold hard a minute, then!” said the Rat. He looped the painter through a ring in his landing-stage, climbed up into his hole above, and after a short interval reappeared staggering under a fat wicker luncheon-basket.

“Shove that under your feet,” he observed to the Mole, as he passed it down into the boat. Then he untied the painter and took the sculls again.

“What’s inside it?” asked the Mole, wriggling with curiosity.

“There’s cold chicken inside it,” replied the Rat briefly: “cold tonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinssaladfrenchrollscresssand wichespottedmeatgingerbeerlemonadesodawater—”

“O stop, stop!” cried the Mole in ecstasies. “This is too much!”

“Do you really think so?” enquired the Rat seriously. “It’s only what I always take on these little excursions; and the other animals are always telling me that I’m a mean beast and cut it very fine!”

The Mole never heard a word he was saying. Absorbed in the new life he was entering upon, intoxicated with the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and the sounds and the sunlight, he trailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams. The Water Rat, like the good little fellow he was, sculled steadily on and forbore to disturb him.

“I like your clothes awfully, old chap,” he remarked after some half an hour or so had passed. “I’m going to get a black velvet smoking-suit myself some day, as soon as I can afford it.”

“I beg your pardon,” said the Mole, pulling himself together with an effort. “You must think me very rude; but all this is so new to me. So—this—is—a—River!”

“The River,” corrected the Rat.

“And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!”

“By it and with it and on it and in it,” said the Rat. “It’s brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It’s my world, and I don’t want any other. What it hasn’t got is not worth having, and what it doesn’t know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we’ve had together! Whether in winter or summer, spring or autumn, it’s always got its fun and its excitements. When the floods are on in February, and my cellars and basement are brimming with drink that’s no good to me, and the brown water runs by my best bedroom window; or again when it all drops away and shows patches of mud that smells like plum-cake, and the rushes and weed clog the channels, and I can potter about dry shod over most of the bed of it and find fresh food to eat, and things careless people have dropped out of boats!”

“But isn’t it a bit dull at times?” the Mole ventured to ask. “Just you and the river, and no one else to pass a word with?”

“No one else to—well, I mustn’t be hard on you,” said the Rat with forbearance. “You’re new to it, and of course you don’t know. The bank is so crowded nowadays that many people are moving away altogether. O no, it isn’t what it used to be, at all. Otters, kingfishers, dabchicks, moorhens, all of them about all day long and always wanting you to do something—as if a fellow had no business of his own to attend to!”

“What lies over there?” asked the Mole, waving a paw towards a background of woodland that darkly framed the water-meadows on one side of the river.

“That? O, that’s just the Wild Wood,” said the Rat shortly. “We don’t go there very much, we river-bankers.”

“Aren’t they—aren’t they very nice people in there?” said the Mole a trifle nervously.

“W-e-ll,” replied the Rat, “let me see. The squirrels are all right. And the rabbits—some of ’em, but rabbits are a mixed lot. And then there’s Badger, of course. He lives right in the heart of it; wouldn’t live anywhere else, either, if you paid him to do it. Dear old Badger! Nobody interferes with him. They’d better not,” he added significantly.

“Why, who should interfere with him?” asked the Mole.

“Well, of course—there—are others,” explained the Rat in a hesitating sort of way. “Weasels—and stoats—and foxes—and so on. They’re all right in a way—I’m very good friends with them—pass the time of day when we meet, and all that—but they break out sometimes, there’s no denying it, and then—well, you can’t really trust them, and that’s the fact.”

The Mole knew well that it is quite against animal-etiquette to dwell on possible trouble ahead, or even to allude to it; so he dropped the subject.

“And beyond the Wild Wood again?” he asked; “where it’s all blue and dim, and one sees what may be hills or perhaps they mayn’t, and something like the smoke of towns, or is it only cloud-drift?”

“Beyond the Wild Wood comes the Wide World,” said the Rat. “And that’s something that doesn’t matter, either to you or me. I’ve never been there, and I’m never going, nor you either, if you’ve got any sense at all. Don’t ever refer to it again, please. Now then! Here’s our backwater at last, where we’re going to lunch.”

Leaving the main stream, they now passed into what seemed at first sight like a little landlocked lake. Green turf sloped down to either edge, brown snaky tree-roots gleamed below the surface of the quiet water, while ahead of them the silvery shoulder and foamy tumble of a weir, arm-in-arm with a restless dripping millwheel, that held up in its turn a grey-gabled mill-house, filled the air with a soothing murmur of sound, dull and smothery, yet with little clear voices speaking up cheerfully out of it at intervals. It was so very beautiful that the Mole could only hold up both forepaws and gasp: “O my! O my! O my!”

The Rat brought the boat alongside the bank, made her fast, helped the still awkward Mole safely ashore, and swung out the luncheon-basket. The Mole begged as a favour to be allowed to unpack it all by himself; and the Rat was very pleased to indulge him, and to sprawl at full length on the grass and rest, while his excited friend shook out the table-cloth and spread it, took out all the mysterious packets one by one and arranged their contents in due order, still gasping: “O my! O my!” at each fresh revelation. When all was ready, the Rat said, “Now, pitch in, old fellow!” and the Mole was indeed very glad to obey, for he had started his spring-cleaning at a very early hour that morning, as people will do, and had not paused for bite or sup; and he had been through a very great deal since that distant time which now seemed so many days ago.

Recenzii

 • "It is a book that breaks nearly every rule of modern children's fiction... it wasn't about fairies at the bottom of the garden, but it was about magic -- just the right kind of magic. It thrills me still to read it." --Shirley Hughes, The Times
"It is a book that breaks nearly every rule of modern children's fiction...it wasn't about fairies at the bottom of the garden, but it was about magic - just the right kind of magic. It thrills me still to read it" -- Shirley Hughes The Times "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats." But reading about Mole, Ratty, Toad and Badger runs it a close second." -- Michael Morpurgo "People think of it as a children's book, but that's not all it is. What seared my imagination was its surrealism. The rat, the mole and badger could talk, but they could also change size: a badger could crawl down a rat hole, a toad could drive a car. At nine or 10 that fascinated me and that made a deep impression on my career" -- Terry Pratchett Independent on Sunday "A book about the love of friends and the joys of existence" Sunday Times "I loved Toad of Toad Hall and his merry antics, especially with his motor car - poop poop!" -- Kenneth Branagh Daily Express

Caracteristici

New edition of a sentimental British favourite