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The river bank (10) [The river bank]

The river bank (10)

" Did I ever tell you that good story about Toad and the Lock-keeper ? It happened this way. Toad... "

Just then, an errant May-fly swerved unsteadily past.

There was a swirl of water and a " cloop ! " and the May-fly disappeared.

So did the Otter.

The Mole looked down.

The voice was still in his ears, but the water he jumped in was clealy vacant.
Not an Otter to be seen, as far as the distant horizon.

But again there was a streak of bobbles on the surface of the river.

The Rat hummed a tune, and the Mole recollected that animal-etiquette on the sudden disappearance of one's friends.   

" Well, well, " said the Rat, " I Suppose we ought to be moving. I wonder which of us had better pack the lunchon-basket ? "

He did not speak as if he was frightfully eager for the treat.

" O, please let me, " said the Mole.

So, of course, the Rat let him.

Packing the basket was not quite such a pleasant work as unpack the basket. It never is.

The Mole was somehow got the basket packed and strapped up tightly.
But just then he saw a plate staring up at him from the grass and he had to be unpacked again.

And there was the fork on the grass and there was the mustard pot which he had been sitting on without knowing it, he had to be done the job again.

At least the Rat said it was time to go home.
 
The afternoon sun was getting low as the Rat sculled gently homewards in a dreamy mood, murmuring poetry-things over to himself.

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