譯序

章河岸

第二章大路朝天

第三章野樹林

第四章班傑先生

第五章家園之樂

第六章托德先生

第七章黎明之門前的吹笛人

第八章托德的冒險

第九章旅行者種種

第十章托德的進一步冒險

第十一章淚如夏日暴雨

第十二章奧德修斯歸來

1     The River Bank

2     The Open Road

3     The Wild Wood

4     Mr. Badger

5     Dulce Domum

6     Mr. Toad

7     The Piper at the Gates of Dawn

8     Toad’s Adventures

9     Wayfarers All

10   The Further Adventures of Toad

11   “Like Summer Tempests Came His Tears”

12   The Return of Ulysses

章河岸

整個早晨，鼴鼠莫爾都在十分努力地工作，給他的小家做春季大清掃。先掃地，再撢灰，然後踩著梯子、臺階和椅子，用石灰水刷牆。後弄得眼睛裡喉嚨口都是灰土，一身黑皮毛上濺滿石灰水的白點子，胳膊酸疼，腰酸背痛。而他頭頂上的空氣、腳下的泥土，他的周圍，都洋溢著春天的氣息，連他那昏暗低矮的小房子，都滲透著對春天無比美妙的渴望氛圍。所以呀，他突然發飆就沒什麼可奇怪的了：他把刷子扔在地板上，“討厭，”他說，“啊，見鬼！”還加上一句：“去他的春季大清掃！”說完外套都沒披上，就衝出了家門。上面有什麼東西在急切地召喚著他。他沿著陡峭而狹窄的通道，向上爬去。這通道對他來說，就相當於那些住宅離太陽和天空更近的動物所擁有的鋪石子兒的馬車道。他一邊忙著用小爪子扒呀、挖呀、抓呀、摳呀，一邊自言自語地咕噥著： “我們上去嘍！我們上去嘍！”終於，噗！大鼻子鑽進了陽光裡，他發現自己在一片大草甸上，在溫暖的草上打滾。

“真棒！”他說，“這可比石灰水好多了！”陽光灑在他的皮毛上，暖洋洋的；柔和的微風撫摩著他曬熱的額頭。在與世隔絕的地洞裡住了那麼久，聽覺也遲鈍了，鳥兒快樂的鳴唱一下子灌進耳朵，差不多就像是吼叫。他立刻彈起四條腿，在生活的歡樂中，在春天的喜悅裡，把春季大清掃拋到腦後，躥過大草坪，來到它另一邊的樹籬前。

“站住！”樹籬豁口處，一隻上了年紀的兔子喝道，“此路私人所有，留下六便士買路錢！”頃刻間，他就被很不耐煩的莫爾輕蔑地撞翻了。別的兔子急忙從洞口向外窺望，想看看外面究竟在鬧騰什麼事。莫爾沿著樹籬內側一溜小跑，耍弄他們尋開心。“蠢貨！蠢貨！”他嘲弄地說，他們還沒來得及想出一句十分滿意的話來回敬他，他已經跑得沒了影兒。於是他們像慣常那樣，一個個互相埋怨起來。“瞧你多笨！你干嗎不告訴他……““喲，你為什麼不說……”“你原本可以提醒他……”等等；不過當然啰，這些都是事後聰明，他們照例總是這一套的。

一切都太美好了，仿佛不是真的一樣。他很起勁地在草地上東跑西顛，沿著灌木叢，翻過坡頂，發現處處鳥兒在築巢，花兒在綻開花蕾，葉子在抽出嫩芽─萬物都很快樂，都在成長，都沒有空閑。他聽不到愧疚感在耳邊嘀咕：“石灰水！”隻覺得，在這一大群忙碌的公民中間，做的一隻懶狗狗，有多麼快活。說到底，休假這事兒好的地方，也許還不是自己在休息，而是看到別的家伙都在忙著干活。

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1  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.

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