The Willows and Beyond Read Free Page A

if the source were ‘The Cheesery, Wensleydale, Yorkshire’, you might reasonably conclude it was a Wensleydale cheese.”
    “But that wouldn’t be livestock,” said the Mole.
    “I would not be quite so sure upon that point, sir, if I were you, given some of the cheeses I have seen lingering in the Sorting Office.”
    “So with respect to livestock, if the source were something such as a farm, for example, or —“Or an abattoir, sir, in those cases where said livestock is no longer alive, or in other words is dead. But in this case —“Yes?” said the Mole eagerly.
    “— the source is quoted, and again I must remind you that —“
    “Yes, yes,” said the Mole impatiently, having now got the measure of this postman and seeing that he was as curious about the matter as the Mole himself.
    “Well then, the source is given as ‘Egypt’!” said the postman without further ado.
    “O my!” said the Mole, whose knowledge of Egyptian livestock was restricted to camels. “O my!”
    “A sentiment with which I wholeheartedly agree, sir.” At which the Mole suggested that he and Nephew guide the postman to the Rat without more delay by way of the River.
    The walk down to the bank was pleasant, and confirmed the promise of the dawn, and as the Mole had expected, the Rat was already out on his side of the River, busying himself about his boat and moorings.
    “Mole! Good, good. Just the fellow I was hoping to see —“

    He stopped the moment he saw the postman, with a look of surprise and enquiry on his face. The matter was very soon explained, however, if not yet understood. Over came the Rat in his boat in a trice, but as the postman refused to hand the item to him directly and insisted he must deliver it personally to the Water Rat’s address, back over the River they all went.
    “It must be a mistake,” said the Rat finally, when the card had been read several times and the matter had been fully explained to him. “I know nobody in Egypt, and I have certainly not ordered any camels.”
    “It can’t be helped, I’m afraid, sir: rules are rules. We, that is the Royal Mail, assumed responsibility for this item the moment it touched the shores of the land, but you took up that same responsibility once you had acknowledged receipt, if only mutely, which is to say through silent reading of the card. Then, allowing for a day’s grace once you are informed of said livestock’s presence, you must pay storage charges at a rate of sixpence a day minimum. Herds work out more dearly than individuals.”
    “Well —” said the Rat.
    “Be warned, sir, those charges soon mount up. In the case of Lord Bell, former cotton king of Glasgow, who foolishly acknowledged receipt of fifteen gross bales of cotton from India but omitted to collect them for six years, the charges bankrupted him, and he went to gaol!”
    “O dear, Ratty, you had better collect it today,” said the Mole.
    “But the last thing I want on a day like this is to go to the Town!”
    “In a case such as yours, sir,” advised the postman, who was used to difficult customers and knew how to spot their weak points, “the first item the bailiffs would take, as part payment of unpaid charges, would certainly be that boat of yours.”
    “Not my boat!” said the horrified Rat, eyeing the craft that had given him and the Mole so much happiness, and which had been so damaged on some of their more dangerous expeditions that it had taken all his skills and patience to restore it.
    “And the oars, sir. They’d have to go as well. If you take my advice you’ll collect this item forthwith.”
    “Yes, I will, I must,” said a very subdued Ratty “But, Mole?”
    “Yes?”
    “Perhaps you’d come with me, and Nephew too, for if this livestock proves to be a herd of something rather than a single specimen then I shall need a good deal of help.”
    He sighed, and looked about the River with considerable misgiving, for the morning was turning glorious, and