He Had Got Down To The Bones

Since Early Morning He Had Been Swimming In The River, In Company With His Friends The Ducks. And When The Ducks Stood On Their Heads Suddenly, As Ducks Will, He Would Dive Down And Tickle Their Necks, Just Under Where Their Chins Would Be If Ducks Had Chins, Till They Were Forced To Come To The Surface Again In A Hurry, Spluttering And Angry And Shaking Their Feathers At Him, For It Is Impossible To Say Quite All You Feel When Your Head Is Under Water.

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.

Don't, For Goodness' Sake, Keep On Saying 'don't'; I Hear So Much Of It, And It's Monotonous, And Makes Me Tired.

You Are Brave! For My Sake, Do Not Be Rash!

The Rat, Meanwhile, Was Busy Examining The Label On One Of The Beer-bottles. "i Perceive This To Be Old Burton," He Remarked Approvingly. "sensible Mole! The Very Thing! Now We Shall Be Able To Mull Some Ale. Get The Things Ready, Mole, While I Draw The Corks."