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Kenneth Grahame

      The Wind in the Willows

      THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS

      ‘Do you know,’ the Mole said, ‘I’ve never been in a boat before in all my life.’

      ‘What?’ cried the Rat. ‘My dear fellow, you haven’t lived! Believe me, there is nothing – really nothing – nicer than just messing about in boats.’

      And so the Mole learns a new way of life with his friend the Water Rat. Long, golden summer days on the river, while the wind whispers its secrets through the willow trees. Life is full of excitement and adventure, and new friends: the Otter and the Badger, and of course, Mr Toad – the famous, the clever, the brave, the wonderful Mr Toad …

      Well, that’s what Toad thinks, but his friends are not so sure. And when he goes crazy about motor-cars, he becomes a very silly, and a very dangerous Toad …

Great Clarendon Street, Oxford OX2 6DPOxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide inOxford New YorkAuckland Cape Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi New Delhi Shanghai Taipei TorontoWith offices inArgentina Austria Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Greece Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine VietnamOXFORD and OXFORD ENGLISH are registered trade marks of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countriesThis simplified edition © Oxford University Press 2008Database right Oxford University Press (maker)First published in Oxford Bookworms 19952 4 6 8 10 9 7 5 3 1No unauthorized photocopyingAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the ELT Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address aboveYou must not circulate this book in any other binding or cover and you must impose this same condition on any acquirerAny websites referred to in this publication are in the public domain and their addresses are provided by Oxford University Press for information only. Oxford University Press disclaims any responsibility for the contentISBN 978 0 19 479137 3Word count (main text): 11,540 wordsFor more information on the Oxford Bookworms Library, visit www.oup.com/bookwormse-Book ISBN 978 0 19 478656 0e-Book first published 2012

      1

      The river

      The Mole worked very hard all morning, cleaning his little home. He brushed, and he washed; he cleaned the floors and the walls, he stood on chairs to wash the tops of cupboards, he got under the beds, he took up the carpets. He cleaned and he cleaned, until his arms and his back ached with tiredness.

      It was springtime, and the smell and the sound of spring were everywhere, even in the Mole’s dark little house under the ground. And with the spring comes the promise of change, of sunshine, of new green leaves. So it was not surprising that the Mole suddenly put down his brushes and said, ‘Oh bother!’ and then, ‘I’m tired of cleaning!’ Something up above the ground was calling to him, and he ran out of his house and began to dig his way upwards to the sun.

      He dug and he pushed, and he pushed and he dug. ‘Up we go! Up we go!’ he said to himself, until at last his nose came out into the sunlight, and he found himself in the warm grass of a field.

      ‘This is fine!’ said the Mole. ‘This is better than cleaning!’ The sunshine was warm on his back and the air was filled with the songs of birds. He gave a little jump for happiness, shook himself, and then began to cross the field towards some trees. Here and there he went, through the fields and the woods, looking and smelling and listening. Everywhere animals and birds were busy, talking and laughing, looking for food, making new homes for the spring. The Mole enjoyed it all.

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