w jolly a fire of logs in the parlour would be, and what a supper he
meant to eat; never noticing his companion's silence and distressful
state of mind. At last, however, when they had gone some considerable
way further, and were passing some tree-stumps at the edge of a copse
that bordered the road, he stopped and said kindly, 'Look here, Mole old
chap, you seem dead tired. No talk left in you, and your feet dragging
like lead. We'll sit down here for a minute and rest. The snow has held
off so far, and the best part of our journey is over.'

The Mole subsided forlornly on a tree-stump and tried to control
himself, for he felt it surely coming. The sob he had fought with so
long refused to be beaten. Up and up, it forced its way to the air, and
then another, and another, and others thick and fast; till poor Mole at
last gave up the struggle, and cried freely and helplessly and openly,
now that he knew it was all over and he had lost what he could hardly be
said to have found.

The Rat, astonished and dismayed at the violence of Mole's paroxysm of
grief, did not dare to speak for a while. At last he said, very quietly
and sympathetically, 'What is it, old fellow? Whatever can be the
matter? Tell us your trouble, and let me see what I can do.'

Poor Mole found it difficult to get any words out between the upheavals
of his chest that followed one upon another so quickly and held back
speech and choked it as it came. 'I know it's a--shabby, dingy little
place,' he sobbed forth at last, brokenly: 'not like--your cosy
quarters--or Toad's beautiful hall--or Badger's great house--but it was
my own little home--and I was fond of it--and I went away and forgot all
about it--and then I smelt it suddenly--on the road, when I called
and you wouldn't listen, Rat--and everything came back to me with a
rush--and I WANTED it!--O dear, O dear!--and when you WOULDN'T turn
back, Ratty--and I had to leave it, though I was smelling it all the
time--I thought my heart would break.--We might have just gone and had
one look at it, Ratty--only one look--it was close by--but you wouldn't
turn back, Ratty, you wouldn't turn back! O dear, O dear!'

Recollection brought fresh waves of sorrow, and sobs again took full
charge of him, preventing further speech.

The Rat stared straight in front of him, saying nothing, only patting
Mole gently on the shoulder. After a time he muttered gloomily, 'I see
it all now! What a PIG I have been! A pig--that