From The Wind In The Willows, by Kenneth Grahame
`Hullo, Mole!' said the Water Rat.
`Hullo, Rat!' said the Mole.
`Would you like to come over?' enquired the Rat presently.
`Oh, its all very well to TALK,' said the Mole, rather
pettishly, he being new to a river and riverside life and its
ways.
The Rat said nothing, but stooped and unfastened a rope and
hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little boat which the
Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white
within, and was just the size for two animals; and the Mole's
whole heart went out to it at once, even though he did not yet
fully understand its uses.
The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up
his forepaw as the Mole stepped gingerly down. `Lean on that!'
he said. `Now then, step lively!' and the Mole to his surprise
and rapture found himself actually seated in the stern of a real
boat.
`This has been a wonderful day!' said he, as the Rat shoved off
and took to the sculls again. `Do you know, I've never been in a
boat before in all my life.'
`What?' cried the Rat, open-mouthed: `Never been in a--you
never--well I--what have you been doing, then?'
`Is it so nice as all that?' asked the Mole shyly, though he was
quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and
surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the
fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.
`Nice? It's the ONLY thing,' said the Water Rat solemnly, as
he leant forward for his stroke. `Believe me, my young friend,
there is NOTHING--absolute nothing--half so much worth doing
as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,' he went on
dreamily: `messing--about--in--boats; messing----'
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