The Willows at Christmas by William Horwood

Author:William Horwood [Horwood, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, pdf
Published: 2011-08-23T13:20:37+00:00

It was some time later, when Toad was somewhat fortified and seemed to be on the road to recovery, that something happened which seemed to bring to a head all his years of failing struggle with Mrs Ffleshe.

He had finally found enough strength to raise a third cup of tea to his lips when with a slide and crash his father’s portrait, which must have worked loose, fell on to the mantel, and from there towards the ground.

In fact, it did rather more than that. It was in a heavy gilded frame and a corner of this crashed unerringly into the portrait of Nanny Fowle and dealt as severe a death blow as can be dealt to an inanimate object. It seemed to tear the portrait apart, frame and all, leaving it in tatters on the carpet, made subjugate by Toad Senior, who quite unharmed smiled benignly at them all, and particularly at his son.

For a long time Toad stayed mute and dumbstruck. Then, suddenly, he decided to take this accident as a sign from beyond the grave — or more accurately a call to action. But to what action, to what purpose?

“I am undone and broken, the wreck of the Toad I once was,” he cried, leaping up and scattering tea cups and presents everywhere. “It is my fault! All is lost! The Hall and the River Bank are ruined and I am to blame, for I can never be my father’s son!”

“Badger, perhaps you should fetch him a glass of water,” said the sensible Mole.

“Water?” cried Toad, turning and turning about in his distress. “What can water do against the awful might of Mrs Ffleshe? Niagara Falls would not trouble her nor a regiment of Hussars subdue her! Arsenic would be as ambrosia to such a one as she, and a stake in the heart would merely be taken as encouragement. No, the combined force of the Roman and Protestant churches could not make her know the meaning of generosity and kindness, and now this has happened to the portrait of Nanny Fowle my life is not worth living. And it is all my fault for not standing up to her!”

“Toad!” cried the Mole, who was finding it very hard to hold his friend down. “Toad, please try to be calm, because —These, never a wise choice of words with the excitable Toad, were the very worst just then.

“Calm!” cried Toad, throwing the Mole back against the fireplace and rushing for the door. “I cannot and will not and must not and shall not be calm!”

“Sir!” cried Miss Bugle, who appeared at that moment with the Badger. “Try this — or this!”

She offered him a glass of water with one hand and attempted to waft a bottle of smelling salts under his nose with the other.

“There is no other solution now!” he said, muttering more to himself than them. “Farewell, Miss Bugle! Farewell, Badger! Farewell, my home!”

Rushing to the great front door, he pulled it open violently and

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.