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COMPOSER.

The idea pleased him mightily, and he worked very hard and got all the letters finished by noon, at which hour it was reported to him that there was a small and rather bedraggled weasel at the door, inquiring timidly whether he could be of any service to the gentlemen.

Toad swaggered out and found it was one of the prisoners of the previous evening, very respectful and anxious to please.

He patted him on the head, shoved the bundle of invitations into his paw, and told him to cut along quick and deliver them as fast as he could, and if he liked to come back again in the evening, perhaps there might be a shilling for him, or, again, perhaps there mightn't; and the poor weasel seemed really quite grateful, and hurried off eagerly to do his mission.

When the other animals came back to luncheon, very boisterous and breezy after a morning on the river, the Mole, whose conscience had been pricking him, looked doubtfully at Toad, expecting to find him sulky or depressed.

Instead, he was so uppish and inflated that the Mole began to suspect something; while the Rat and the Badger exchanged significant glances.

As soon as the meal was over, Toad thrust his paws deep into his trouser-pockets, remarked casually, 'Well, look after yourselves, you fellows! Ask for anything you want!' and was swaggering off in the direction of the garden, where he wanted to think out an idea or two for his coming speeches, when the Rat caught him by the arm.

Toad rather suspected what he was after, and did his best to get away; but when the Badger took him firmly by the other arm he began to see that the game was up.

The two animals conducted him between them into the small smoking-room that opened out of the entrance-hall, shut the door, and put him into a chair.

Then they both stood in front of him, while Toad sat silent and regarded them with much suspicion and ill-humour.

'Now, look here, Toad,' said the Rat.

'It's about this Banquet, and very sorry I am to have to speak to you like this.

But we want you to understand clearly, once and for all, that there are going to be no speeches and no songs.

Try and grasp the fact that on this occasion we're not arguing with you; we're just telling you.'

Toad saw that he was trapped.

They understood him, they saw through him, they had got ahead of him.

His pleasant dream was shattered.

'Mayn't I sing them just one LITTLE song?' he pleaded piteously.

'No, not ONE little song,' replied the Rat firmly, though his heart bled as he noticed the trembling lip of the poor disappointed Toad.

It's no good, Toady; you know well that your songs are all conceit and boasting and vanity; and your speeches are all self-praise and-and-well, and gross exaggeration and-and--'

'And gas,' put in the Badger, in his common way.

'It's for your own good, Toady,' went on the Rat.

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