Wind in the Willows — Part A

The Wind in the Willows
— by Kenneth Grahame —
adapted and performed by Abdiel/ YingXiong

The Wind in the Willows—a famous tale of warmth, humor and wit—has delighted generations of children and adult readers since its first publication in 1908. Among them was C.S. Lewis, who recalled "humbler pleasures, chuckling as it were in the ear, mumbling/ of glee, as kindly animals talk in a children's tale."

Join the Mole and Water Rat as they go boating on the river, hear the fieldmice carol-singing at Christmas time, witness the scandalous escapades of that "lovable rebel" Toad, and see the vain attempts of wise old Badger to reform Toad's character.

These four main characters are joined by a marvellous and varied supporting cast of characters, including squabbling rabbits, serenading fieldmice, and the villainous weasels who take over Toad's home when Toad is imprisoned for stealing a car!

Abdiel has brought this one-man show to three continents since its first performance in New York City in 1998. His joyous embodiment, with his variety of voices and accents, captures the book's wonder, comedy, and magic, and is a delight for both literature and theatre lovers. The piece lasts about an hour including a brief intermission.

Contact to book a live performance in China!

The RiverBank

The Mole had been workingvery hard all the morning, spring cleaning his little home. First with brooms,then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pailof whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes ofwhitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring wasmoving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating evenhis dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent andlonging. It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush onthe floor, said 'Bother!' 'O blow!' 'Hang spring-cleaning!' and bolted out ofthe house without even waiting to put on his coat. Something up above wascalling him urgently, and he made for the steep little tunnel outside his frontdoor. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged, and then hescrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with hislittle paws and muttering to himself, 'Up we go! Up we go!' till at last, pop!his snout came out into the sunlight, and he found himself rolling in the warmgrass of a great meadow.

'This is fine!' 'This isbetter than whitewashing!' The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft breezescaressed his heated brow, and the carol of happy birds fell on his dulledhearing almost like a shout. Jumping of all his four legs at once, in the joyof living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his wayacross the meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side.

'Hold up!' said an elderlyrabbit at the gap. 'Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!'He was bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, whotrotted along the side of the hedge making fun of the other rabbits as theypeeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. 'Onion-sauce!Onion-sauce!' he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of asatisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. 'How stupidyou are!'—'Well why didn't you tell him'—'Well, why didn't you say'—'You mighthave reminded him—' and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was thenmuch too late, as is always the case.

Mole thought his happinesscomplete when, as he meandered aimlessly along, suddenly he stood by the edgeof a full-fed river. Never in his life had he seen a river before—this sleek,sinuous, full-bodied animal, chasing and chuckling, gripping things with agurgle and leaving them with a laugh. All was a-shake and a-shiver—glints andgleams and sparkles, rustle and swirl, chatter and bubble. The Mole wasbewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted, as onetrots when very small, until, tired at last, he sat on the bank.

As he looked across theriver, a dark hole in the bank opposite, just above the water's edge, caughthis eye. As he gazed, something bright and small seemed to twinkle down in theheart of it. Then, it winked at him, and so declared itself to be, an eye; anda small face began to grow up around it, like a frame round a picture.

A brown little face, withwhiskers.

It was the Water Rat!

Then the two animals stoodand regarded each other cautiously.

'Hullo, Mole!' said theWater Rat.

'Hullo, Rat!' said theMole.

'Would you like to comeover?'

'Oh, it's all very well totalk,' said the Mole rather impatiently, he being new to a river and riversidelife and its ways.

The Rat said nothing, butlightly stepped into a little boat, which the Mole had not observed. It waspainted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for two animals.

The Rat sculled acrosssmartly and made fast. Then he held up his fore-paw as the Mole steppedgingerly down. And the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself actuallyseated in a real boat.

'This has been a wonderfulday!' 'Do you know, I've never been in a boat in all my life.'

'What? Never been in a—younever—well, I—what have you been doing, then?'

'Is it so nice as allthat?'

'Nice? It's the onlything'. 'Believe me, Mole my young friend, there is nothing—absolutelynothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simplymessing'

Look ahead, Rat!'

It was too late. The boatstruck the bank full tilt.

'—about in boats—or withboats. In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter, that's the charm of it. Look hereMole! If you've really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we dropdown the river together, and have a long day of it?'

The Mole waggled his toesfrom sheer happiness. 'What a day I'm having. Let's start at once.'

The Rat returned to hisside of the river bank, secured his boat, climbed up, and soon reappearedstaggering under a fat, wicker luncheon-basket.

'What's inside it?'

'There's cold chicken...cold tongue cold ham cold beef pickled-gherkin-salad, french-rollscress-sandwiches potted-meat ginger-beer lemonade soda-water—'

'O stop, stop. This is toomuch!'

Off they went. Intoxicatedwith the sparkle, the ripple, the scents and sounds and the sunlight, the Moletrailed a paw in the water and dreamed long waking dreams, while the Rat sang alittle song, which he called 'Ducks' Ditty':

All along the backwater,
Through the rushes tall,
Ducks are a-dabbling,
Up tails all!

Ducks' tails, drakes'tails,
Yellow feet a-quiver,
Yellow bills all out of sight,
Busy in the river!

The Rat's splendid rhymeswere rather lost on Mole, who did not yet share his new-found friend's love ofpoetry.

'What lies over there,Rat?' Mole asked.

'That? O that's just theWild Wood. That's where Badger lives ... and the weasels. We ... don't go therevery much, we river-bankers.'

'And beyond the Wild Wood?Where it's all blue and dim?'

'Beyond the Wild Wood comesthe Wide World, and that's something that doesn't matter to you or me.

'Look here, Mole! Why don'tyou come and stay with me for a time. It's very plain and rough, you know, butyou'll be comfortable there. And I'll teach you to row, and to swim, and prettysoon you'll be as handy on the water as any of us.'

The Mole was so touched byRat's kind manner of speaking that he found no voice to answer him; and he hadto brush away a tear of two with the back of his paw. But the Rat kindly lookedin another direction.

Presently the Rat broughtthe boat to a willow-shaded bank, made fast, and during the course of theirsplendid feast, discoursed enthusiastically about the charms of life on theriver and about its most colorful inhabitant, the honorable Mr. Toad of ToadHall. 'He is indeed the best of animals. So simple, so good-natured, and soaffectionate. It may be that he is both boastful and conceited. But he has gotsome great qualities, has Toady.'

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