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Badger takes the parade

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`Straighten up, everybody,' commanded the Badger in his best parade ground voice. 'We must all give a good impression to the reviewer. This means you too, Ratty.' 'Why yes badger,' cried Ratty, hastily stuffing his tea cake under the picnic table. 'Best behaviour, what?' 'Where is Mole?' continued the Badger, glancing sternly at the cake crumbs clinging stubbornly to the Rat's whiskers. The Mole broke surface directly beneath the picnic table, almost scattering the Rat's carefully laid out treats to the four winds. Clambering out from under, he turned towards the stern Badger. 'Here I am, sir,' squeaked the Mole anxiously.' I do hope I am not late?' 'Of course not, Moley, Just in time, what?' Laughed the Rat as he straightened his table. It would not do to leave good, picnic food unstraightened. It would only, he knew, attract the Weasels. Or even a stoat or two. 'When you have quite finished,' announced the Badger, striving to maintain the dignity of the occasion, 'I would like you to impress upon the good people reading this that Mr Grahame's novel, which is all about us, I hasten to remind you, is the finest tale of riverside life ever written by human or animal. I want you to impress upon anyone who asks that this is a cheery-up of a book, a time to relax of a book, a best reward of a book, to warm the hearts of all.' The Badger unshipped a particularly stern glare. 'Do I make myself clear?' 'Why of course, Badger, 'replied the Rat while doffing his boater at a pair of passing rabbits and their giggling brood, 'Wind in the Willows is the finest book of its kind. I would advise folk everywhere,' he smiled at the rabbits, 'to read it to their children for double the pleasure.' 'Yes quite', the Badger harrumphed. 'Now, on the next item on the agenda. Where, oh where, is that wasteful extravagant miscreant, you know who?' Crash! With an explosion of knives, forks, cupcakes, bread and honey, and cheese, the picnic table evaporated into the ether. The animals scattered, the Rat losing his boater in the proceedings. When the dust settled, all was revealed. The remains of a once-fine motorcar sat right in the middle of what had once been a picnic. Upside down, stuck helplessly in the bough of an oak, waved the tweed-clad legs of one who, even upside down, could not be mistook for a upright citizen. From inside the strong oak there came a muffled, yet unmistakable cry. 'Poop poop!'

Still One of the Best Children's Stories

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I purchased this book to read to my young grandson (4 years old). The book brought back many wonderful memories of my childhood and the magical world the story gives to a young child hearing it for the first time. Until I started to read to my grandson I had forgotten what a wonderful story it is, far surpassing most of the modern tales for children. It still feels as fresh as the day it was written and is not dated at all. For some reason, I don't know why children seem to be able to relate to stories about animals rather than about human beings, this is reflected in the number of programmes on children's television about animals. Whether it be paper back or hard back with illustrations get the children in your family a copy of Wind in the Willows, I guarantee they will love it. This is quite an expensive volume (but a terrific price on Amazon at the moment). It is worth it for the beautiful illustrations.