The Wind in the Valley or The Distance of the Mile

Author's Note and Dedication:

A Story of Friendship, Life, Loyalty, Kindness, and Adventure that is based off Kenneth Grahame's original classic with characters that President Theodore Roosevelt called "old friends".

The novel "The Wind in the Willows" has captured the hearts of children and nostalgic adults around the world as a classic tale of friendship, life, loyalty, kindness, and adventure that has lasted for more than one-hundred years. Be this story praised for beauty, ill-received for the lack of it, hailed as a triumphal classic of this genre or bashed because it's a disgrace to it all, I hope that it does on what Mr. Kenneth Grahame did with his original- invoke imagination, praise childhood, and most of all, endorse the human spirit. I shall attempt in every manner possible to do him justice, if not, then it shall have hopefully been a just attempt.

The reason this is under "Disney" is because the characters are the Disney versions from Walt Disney's The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad (1949) which was a package film featuring two segments "The Wind in the Willows" and "Sleepy Hallow"

Dedicated to Mister Kenneth Grahame

"It takes all sorts to make a world." -Kenneth Grahame

Chapter I: A Letter for Rat

There is, in the English countryside, just outside of Stratford Upon Avon, a river. This river is quaint, it isn't a valiant river that battles against the Thames for King of the Island, or a river that leads out into the sea like the American Mississippi, and it isn't the long Egyptian snake known as the Nile, but it is a simple, nonviolent, non-glory seeking selfless river, which has a simple name. River.

As the morning sun began to rise, River began to talk upon it's rocks and fish waking them up and telling them good morning. The birds sang to River, asking if they could partake in his water. River, being a nice sensible fellow complied and welcomed them and their cousins, nephews, and extended family down for a morning drink before breakfast, which he also offered, and the fish didn't seem to mind that they were being given up, because they figured that there were other organisms that needed to feast and the fish, being selfless, gladly opted for the birds to consume them. The birds, being polite, offered to take only the fish that wanted to go, for they weren't genocidal heathens. So the fish gathered together in one place and the birds partook in the meal, the fish died happy and the other fish were sad for a moment but they knew that their friends were appreciated. As things went on like this, there was, in the background, the singing of a song.

"Gather all me brothers, feast upon the wine, dine upon the bread and forget about the time. We shall walk and sing together, glass and spirit high. And we shall meet up again in the morning! Yes we shall meet up again in the morning!"

It was the Water Rat. He was a bit drunk, but was able to walk. River looked at him a bit worried, hoping that he wouldn't fall in and drown, for if it came to that there was nothing he could except call on the fish for help, but they couldn't be of much use anyway. Too small minds.

The Water Rat turned towards River and smiled, "No I'm not drunk!"

If River could speak he would tell his friend to do two things first, to never touch the cup again, and second, to go home and rest for a day, have a decent meal, and call it quits when it came to adventurous behavior. River would also remind him of Toad and how swimmingly his adventure with the motor-car turned out, but he, of course, stood silent. Rat laughed and fumbled with his keys as he approached his beaver-like dam home right next to River, which pleased them both. The one thing that Rat loved more than anything it would most definitely be River, he was always good to him and vice versa. They would always keep each other in check, cleaning themselves regularly, asking about the events of the day daily, all that sort of thing as if they could really communicate with each other, and in a way they did. For Water Rat had known River for quite some time, going on twenty-seven years, and during that time both of them had grown to respect each other, like a faithful dog does to his master.

Entering his home, Rat looked around the place and saw that Mole was tidying up. Mole was in short, Rat's friend, companion and advisor in almost all details. They both got into the habit of each other's comings and goings, their eating habits, which were relatively the same, their sleeping habits, which were relatively the same, and their overall personalities, which one would rub off the other and so on.

"I see you've been drinking with Toad again." Mole said, shaking his head, letting Rat's reason sink in.

"Yes," Rat replied, staggering over to a chair and hiccupping, "I have been drinking, but rest assured, I'm n-not d-drunk."

Mole smiled and nodded, walking over to a nearby wall and grabbing a pale, sitting it next to his friend for vomit to spew into.

"Whatever makes you feel better about yourself Rat." Mole laughed, as he started to build a cooking fire for tonight's supper, which he would also prepare. He didn't mind doing things like that. Rat was busy enough, tending to River, keeping Mr. Toad in check, that is when he has is senses, making sure that river boaters were well taken care of, for he was in charge of them too, for it was his main source of income, and visiting Cyril every now and again in the stable. Mole figured that he could pick up the slack, by preparing the meals and keeping house, it was the least he could for his friend who took him in and showed him the finer things in life.

A knock at the door followed by the doorbell. Mole stopped his work and opened the door.

"Hullo Mole, is Rat home?"

It was the mailman, a tall friendly fellow with a blue uniform, gold buttons, and a smile that said, 'hello world, how may I serve you today?'

Mole smiled, "Hullo Mr. Freely, Rat is home, but I'm afraid he has fallen a bit ill."

Mr. Freely looked back over Mole's shoulder and saw that Rat was already partaking in filling the pale with his excess. "I see," Mr. Freely said looking into the house and seeing the ordeal, "Well, anyways, I brought a letter for him, tell him to read it when he gets the chance will you?" Mole nodded and put the letter safely in his pocket.

"Anything else Mr. Freely?" Mole asked, hoping that Mr. Freely would stay for conversation.

The mailman shook his head, "Afraid not Mole," he smiled and tipped his hat, "best be off. Good 'ay to you!" He peered his head into the house and looked at Rat, seeing that he was keeling over the pale, "Get some rest and perhaps a bit of warm mead Rat, and you'll feel better in no time."

Rat nodded, and in between puking and feeling awful said, "Thank you Mr. Freely."

The mailman then stood up, straightened his uniform coat and walked down along River's bank whistling 'Good Morning'.

"You know you really should be more careful Ratty." Mole said, sitting back down in his place, stoking the fire.

"Yes I know Mole," Rat replied, sitting up and fanning himself, feeling a little better but not by much. For now at least, the vomiting and keeling over stopped.

"I know I should've been more alert but the brandy, the meat, the wine! Oh it was glorious!" He stood up a moment, began walking around the room describing every detail of the origin of his drunken state.

"It all started with Cyril, the horse," Rat said, "I was paying him a visit and seeing that his hay was clean. With that was done he suggested that we go up to Toad Hall, grab Toad and go out for a joy ride. We even questioned about inviting you, but Cyril was against it, saying that he'll probably deny it anyway."

"I would have." Mole interrupted with a quaint laugh and smile.

"Don't interrupt," Rat said, "it's bad manners, now, as I was saying, we walked up to Toad Hall, went inside and low and behold there was Toad, setting up the table with all of his food and drink. He had the finest silverware, plates, and cups that his money could buy out on his finest tablecloth. Anyway he smiled, ran up to us with a shake of the hand and we began to have a glorious lunch. As we ate, Toad asked where you were, and I said, he's probably taking care of house."

"I was." Mole said, interrupting a second time.

"Mole, don't interrupt, if I have to ask you again, I'm going to send you off." Rat warned as he cleared his throat. "Toad then began to tell us about how much he's always wanted to visit America. I told him that for the first time in his life you're doing something that makes sense. I asked him whatever for, and he said 'to partake in the drink, to partake in the excitement, and to partake in the city of,' he paused for dramatic effect, as he does with everything as you know, 'New York!' Can you believe it! He's going to New York City!"

"New York City?" Mole asked, "Why in the world would he go there?"

"That's exactly what I asked," Rat said, "he told me that he's going there to meet President Franklin Roosevelt himself. I told him that would be a great tremendous honor, to be the first toad in history to meet a President of the United States. He nodded, but he wasn't finished, 'I'm going to live there, leave this place forever.'"

"What!" Mole cried, turning towards Rat, looking stupefied "Toad leave England! Why that's preposterous!"

"Preposterous indeed." Rat replied, "I told him that I would allow a visit there, but never a permanent residency. 'Do you have any idea what would become of this place if you left. Why it wouldn't be Toad Hall anymore!' I said. 'Right Toady, it just wouldn't be the same without ya, besides, what does America got that England hasn't?' Cyril asked. I was wondering the same thing and Toad answered rather disrespectfully but honestly. 'America doesn't have a king, America has a people's voice, and America doesn't have a Parliament!' He cried. I was bubbling and festering like an overcooked salmon, 'What do you think this is the sixteenth century Toad!' I shouted, 'We are no longer the vast tyrannical Empire of Robin Hood days! We are friends with America and her allies and we intend to stay that way, but for the love of your senses, don't move there. It's a bad investment.' Toad didn't listen to me, he never listens to anyone, and he simply said, 'Ratty, Ratty, Ratty, you poor soul, you have no idea if an investment is bad or not until you've invested in that investment.' I sighed, and slumped in my chair, I couldn't argue with that logic. 'Even if it ends up being good, we would miss you terribly!' I assured, trying to gain some sympathy for him. Toad smiled, 'Ah, but I haven't told you the best part yet, you're coming with me!'"

"He's insane!" Mole said, standing to his feet.

"Insane, more like psychopathic. He wants to drag me away from River, you out of here, Cyril away from the stables, Badger out of the Wild Wood and himself out his house to go to some foreign country with foreign people who do not know our names only to make a name for ourselves when we have perfectly happy and content lives right here!" Rat shouted.

"Well, did you say anything to him?" Mole asked, hoping that Rat didn't cave in like last time.

"I did, I told him, 'I'm not going on this silly escapade of yours, you can go as you wish, I won't stop you and frankly I don't think anyone else will either, stop you or join you, that's my two cents, now, let's put off this business and drink.' So we did, Toad didn't speak another word of it, and me, Cyril, and Toad got drunk out of our heads! Cyril could barely stand, Toad was on the floor, laughing like a loony bin. I was the only one who could walk, so I led Cyril to the stables and headed home. You know the rest. So, did we get any mail? I suspected that's on what Mr. Freely was here for."

"Yes." Mole replied, pulling out the letter, "a letter came for you. I didn't really look at it, thought it was your letter and your business and that I would leave you to it."

Rat smiled as he grabbed the letter from his friend, "Thank you Mole, you kind hearted soul."

He opened the letter and read it, when he was finished, he quickly folded it up and put it in his pocket. Not speaking a word.

"Something wrong?" Mole asked with concern, seeing that Rat was horror stricken. His whiskers were twitchy, his eyes were wandering, and his mouth was closed shut, unable to move.

"Rat, come on wake up!" Mole snapped his fingers, hoping that it would do something to faze his friend out of his dream trancelike state. It didn't do much good. Being desperate, Mole tried everything, pouring water on him, enticing Rat's nose with the dinner that was cooking, slapping him in the face, he even called on Badger to help, but even still Rat remained motionless and expressionless. His mind however was racing back and forth to and fro, like a squirrel not knowing which way to run. The contents of the letter repeated in his brain, over and over, a broken record. All Rat could do was wait and let his confused and nervous brain process the information, leaving himself to stand there like a complete idiot.

"Rat, it's me Badger!" Badger screamed, knowing full well that his voice was terrifying to any animal, but was utterly fearful to Rat. It was a simple mistake, an accident. Rat was walking along in the Wild Wood with Mole to pick some berries, when Badger, being a little bit mischievous that morning snuck up behind them and scared them silly...

"Whatever is the matter with you Badger!" Rat said after the scare. Badger just laughed, and Rat and Mole walked away. The next day Badger came over to apologize but it made no difference, to this day Rat is terrified of badgers...

"What can we do?" Mole asked, a bit concerned now, for Rat had been going on like this for quite some time now. "The only thing we can do," Badger said, "put him in bed and hope by morning he'll come to."

So, running out of options and ideas, Badger and Mole heaved Rat into bed.

"I'll stay the night just to be on the safe side." Badger said. Mole who was thankful that he wouldn't have to go through the night alone, offered Badger a nice meal, a glass of mead and a warm guest bed before retiring to his own room to get into his nightclothes, brush his teeth, and say his prayers. As he pulled back his covers, he got down on his knees on the floor, looked out his small window.

"Dear God," Mole said reverently, "please fix Rat's face, head and body, he doesn't look so well. And knock some sense into Toad, I'm not sure about this whole America business, and lastly, thanks for every day and for good friends. Amen." He crawled back into bed, closed his eyes, and dreamt of America, secretly wishing that he had the courage to go there himself, but then he realized that he would miss this old place, so he erased the thought from his head and slept soundly 'til morning.