Kenneth Grahame - Wind In The Willows - The Cart and the Car

Exerpt from the book where Toad has had an intervention regarding his obsession with cars.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
They were strolling along the high road easily, the mole
by the horse's head, talking to him, since the horse
had complained that he was being frightfully left out of it,
and nobody considered him in the slightest The toad and
the water rat walked behind the cart, talking together. At
least toad was talking and the rat was saying at intervals, yes, precisely,
but what did you say to him? And thinking all

(00:22):
the time of something very different, when far behind them
they heard the faint warning hum like the drone of
a distant bee. Glancing back, they saw a small cloud
of dust with a dark center of energy, advancing on
them at incredible speed, whilst from out of the dust
a faint poop poop wailed like an uneasy animal in pain.

(00:42):
Hardly regarding it, they turned to resume their conversation, when
in an instant, as it seemed, the peaceful scene was changed,
and with a blast of wind and a world of
sound that made them jump from the nearest ditch, it
was on them. The poop poop rang with a brazen shout.
In their ears, they had a moment's glimpse of an
interior of glittering plate and rich Morocco, and the magnificent

(01:04):
motor car, immense breath snatching, passionate with its pilot tents
and hugging his wheel, possessed all the earth and air
for a fraction of a second, flung in an enveloping
cloud of dust that blinded and wrapped them utterly, and
then dwindled into a speck in the far distance. Changed
back to a droning bee once more, the old gray horse,

(01:27):
dreaming as he plodded along of his quiet paddock in
a new and raw situation. As this, simply abandoned himself
to his natural emotions, rearing, plunging, backing steadily, In spite
of all the mole's efforts at his head, and all
the mole's lively language directed at his better feelings, he
drove the cart backwards towards the deep ditch at the
side of the road. It wavered an instant. Then there

(01:51):
was a heartrending crash, and the canary colored cart, their
pride and their joy, lay on its side in the
ditch and ademable wreck. The rat danced up and down
the road, simply transported with passion. Who scoundrels? You? How
I bet you? You? You your road hogs. I'll have
the law on you, I'll report you, I'll take you

(02:13):
through the courts. His homesickness had quite slipped away from him,
and for the moment he was the skipper of the
canary colored vessel, driven onto a shoal by the reckless
jockeying of rival mariners, and he was trying to recollect
all the fine and biting things. He used to say
to masters of steam launchers when their wash as they
drew too near to the bank, used to flood his
parlor carpet at home. Toad sat straight down in the

(02:36):
middle of the dusty road, his legs stretched out before him,
and stared fixedly in the direction of the disappearing motor car.
He breathed short, His face wore a placid, satisfied expression,
and at intervals he faintly murmured, pep pop. The mole
was busy trying to quiet the horse, which he succeeded

(02:57):
in doing after a time. Then he went to look
at the car on its side in the ditch. Indeed,
it was a solry sight, panels and windows, smashed, axles
hopelessly bent, one wheel off, Sardine tins scattered over the
wide world, and the bird in the bird cage, sobbing
pitifully and calling to be let out. Rat came to

(03:17):
help him, but the united efforts were not sufficient to
right the cart horw toad. They cried, come and bear
a hand, can't you? The toad never answered a word,
nor budged from his seat in the road. So they
went to see what was the matter with him. They
found him in a sort of trance, a happy smile
on his face, his eyes still fixed on the dusty

(03:37):
wake of their destroyer. At intervals he was still heard
to murmur poop, poop. The rat shook him by the shoulder.
How are you coming to help us, toad, he demanded, sternly.
Glorious staring sight, murmured toad, never offering to move. A
pertract motion. The real way to travel, the only way

(03:59):
to travel. Here to day and next week to morrow.
Villages skipped, towns and cities jumped, always somebody else's horizon.
Oh bliss o poo poo, Oh my, oh my,