Free The Willows and Beyond by Kenneth Grahame, William Horwood, Patrick Benson

tragedy and comedy that he thought Master Toad might find helpful.
    Toad’s only regret was the gloomy feeling that came over him when he himself had to practise the austere habits he now daily preached over the breakfast table. His plight was somewhat eased, however, by certain private arrangements he had made with his butler. It was not so hard sticking to the healthful regime of orange juice, thin un-buttered toast, a solitary egg (poached) and single slice of bacon (lean) once a week that he had prescribed for them both, when he knew that a full English breakfast plus buttered crumpets (so necessary to stave off the advance of winter) were awaiting him in his bedroom, once he had packed his ward off to the study each morning at a quarter to nine.

    “Aaah … !“ sighed Toad, who was rediscovering certain lost pleasures of youth as he tucked into his secret second daily breakfast, such as the fact that scrumped apples taste a good deal better than those honestly obtained.
    It was true he was a mite puzzled that Master Toad seemed to be taking his medicine so willingly and without complaint, but then he remembered that he himself had taught the youngster the arts of cunning and deception. No doubt the youth had established his own lines of supply for extra sustenance, and no doubt they involved the Housekeeper (whom Master Toad had long since charmed) and certain drawers and shelves in the library as hiding places which Toad might himself have used.
    One day soon, Master Toad would be off into the world and there he would discover that very often the end justified the means, and Toad felt sure he would be grateful for the lessons directly and indirectly taught him that autumn.
    Toad ruminated on these matters as he led his ward back to Toad Hall that night. But as they went inside and Master Toad compliantly headed off to bed with only one final plea — “Pater, are we really to go ‘iking tomorrow?” — which Toad ignored, he turned his thoughts to the one area in which he had so far failed.
    For the youth had successfully avoided each and every one of the planned afternoon sessions of educational exercise by resorting to all the tricks in the book, and many more that Toad had never come across.
    Master Toad had been afflicted by sprained ankles, headaches, upset stomachs, grumbling appendices, double vision, fainting fits and many other physical ailments, as well as some mental ones, all of the kind that can be relied on to disappear the moment darkness descends and the threat of educational exercise has receded for another day, and dinner is in the offing.
    So successful had these stratagems been, and so easily had Toad been daily defeated on this front, that his ward had begun to suspect that his pater’s heart was no more taken by the idea of hiking than his own. Indeed, he had the smug sense that the battle was won, and there would be no more talk of hiking from Mr Toad.
    In this he was nearly right, but finally wrong. For Toad had indeed found the notion of hiking considerably to his distaste, and the vast stock of hiking equipment he had ordered up from a well-known emporium in the Town used to dealing with military needs had at first baffled and alarmed him. Its sheer weight was dispiriting for a start, for Toad had quickly realized that what was not to be worn was to be carried. Then, too, there was the difficulty of working out what each item of equipment was meant to do. Hobnail boots were easy enough, as were water bottles. But dangerous-looking knives? A mosquito net? And a spade that looked like a pick? For what strange reason were these supplied to a gentleman who wished to take a healthful stroll in the countryside?
    Eventually, on Badger’s wise advice, he ordered several books on the subject of hiking, which was then attracting a good deal of attention from authors good and bad, experienced and inexperienced. Toad was no great reader and had eyed them askance for several days after their