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"
The
River
,
"
corrected
the
Rat
.
"
And
you
really
live
by
the
river
?
What
a
jolly
life
!
"
"
By
it
and
with
it
and
on
it
and
in
it
,
"
said
the
Rat
.
"
It
's
brother
and
sister
to
me
,
and
aunts
,
and
company
,
and
food
and
drink
,
and
(
naturally
)
washing
.
It
's
my
world
,
and
I
do
n't
want
any
other
.
What
it
has
n't
got
is
not
worth
having
,
and
what
it
does
n't
know
is
not
worth
knowing
.
Lord
!
the
times
we
've
had
together
!
Whether
in
winter
or
summer
,
spring
or
autumn
,
it
's
always
got
its
fun
and
its
excitements
.
When
the
floods
are
on
in
February
,
and
my
cellars
and
basement
are
brimming
with
drink
that
's
no
good
to
me
,
and
the
brown
water
runs
by
my
best
bedroom
window
;
or
again
when
it
all
drops
away
and
shows
patches
of
mud
that
smells
like
plum-cake
,
and
the
rushes
and
weed
clog
the
channels
,
and
I
can
potter
about
dry
shod
over
most
of
the
bed
of
it
and
find
fresh
food
to
eat
,
and
things
careless
people
have
dropped
out
of
boats
!
"
"
But
is
n't
it
a
bit
dull
at
times
?
"
the
Mole
ventured
to
ask
.
"
Just
you
and
the
river
,
and
no
one
else
to
pass
a
word
with
?
"
"
No
one
else
to
--
well
,
I
must
n't
be
hard
on
you
,
"
said
the
Rat
with
forbearance
.
"
You
're
new
to
it
,
and
of
course
you
do
n't
know
.
The
bank
is
so
crowded
nowadays
that
many
people
are
moving
away
altogether
.
O
no
,
it
is
n't
what
it
used
to
be
,
at
all
.
Otters
,
king-fishers
,
dabchicks
,
moorhens
,
all
of
them
about
all
day
long
and
always
wanting
you
to
do
something
--
as
if
a
fellow
had
no
business
of
his
own
to
attend
to
!
"
"
What
lies
over
there
?
"
asked
the
Mole
,
waving
a
paw
towards
a
background
of
woodland
that
darkly
framed
the
water-meadows
on
one
side
of
the
river
.
"
That
?
O
,
that
's
just
the
Wild
Wood
,
"
said
the
Rat
shortly
.
"
We
do
n't
go
there
very
much
,
we
river-bankers
.
"
"
Are
n't
they
--
are
n't
they
very
nice
people
in
there
?
"
said
the
Mole
a
trifle
nervously
.
