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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!”
birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied.
the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.
“There’s cold chicken inside it,” replied the Rat briefly; “coldtonguecoldhamcoldbeefpickledgherkinssaladfrenchrollscresssandwichespottedmeatgingerbeerlemonadesodawater—”
“And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!”
It’s my world, and I don’t want any other.
It was so very beautiful that the Mole could only hold up both fore-paws and gasp, “O my! O my! O my!”
he soon laid his head on his pillow in great peace and contentment, knowing that his new-found friend the River was lapping the sill of his window.
he would dive down and tickle their necks, just under where their chins would be if ducks had chins,
gay flower-decked lawns
Poor Mole! The Life Adventurous was so new a thing to him, and so thrilling; and this fresh aspect of it was so tempting; and he had fallen in love at first sight with the canary-coloured cart and all its little fitments.
he was fond of the Mole,
‘Live for others!’ That’s my motto in life.”
It was a golden afternoon. The smell of the dust they kicked up was rich and satisfying; out of thick orchards on either side the road, birds called and whistled to them cheerily; good-natured wayfarers, passing them, gave them “Good-day,” or stopped to say nice things about their beautiful cart; and rabbits, sitting at their front doors in the hedgerows, held up their fore-paws, and said, “O my! O my! O my!”
stars grew fuller and larger all around them, and a yellow moon, appearing suddenly and silently from nowhere in particular, came to keep them company and listen to their talk.
The Mole reached out from under his blanket, felt for the Rat’s paw in the darkness, and gave it a squeeze.
he faintly murmured “Poop-poop!”
one morning the diffident and delaying dog-rose stepped delicately on the stage, and one knew, as if string-music had announced it in stately chords that strayed into a gavotte, that June at last was here.
Drowsy animals, snug in their holes while wind and rain were battering at their doors,
the radiant transformation of earth, air, and water, when suddenly the sun was with them again, and grey was gold and colour was born and sprang out of the earth once more.
The line of the horizon was clear and hard against the sky, and in one particular quarter it showed black against a silvery climbing phosphorescence that grew and grew. At last, over the rim of the waiting earth the moon lifted with slow majesty till it swung clear of the horizon and rode off, free of moorings;
“This is the place of my song-dream, the place the music played to me,” whispered the Rat, as if in a trance.
