The sheep were tightly packed together, their thin nostrils were snorting, their slender front hooves kept stamping on the ground, and they ran towards the sheepfold with their heads raised. Steam rose from the sheep and slowly rose into the cold air. The Rat and the Mole talked and laughed, and hurried cheerfully past the sheep. All day long. Together with the otters they hunted and explored the vast uplands where the caves fed their great river began. Now they were walking home across the fields. The short winter days were coming to an end and twilight was approaching them, but they were still quite far away from home. While they were stumbling around in the plowed fields, they heard the sound of sheep and came looking for the sound. Now, they saw a flat path extending from the sheep pen, which was much easier to walk. Moreover, with the natural sense of smell that all animals have, they know accurately, "Yes, this road leads to home!"

"It looks like a village ahead. "The Mole slowed down and said doubtfully. Because, the path trampled by feet first turned into a trail, then expanded into a tree-lined path, and finally led them onto a gravel road. The village was not to the taste of the two animals. The road they usually passed was a different road, avoiding the church, post office or hotel.

"Oh, that's all right," said the Rat. "In this season, at this time, men, women, children, dogs, cats, all stay at home quietly and warm themselves by the fire. We can sneak by without anyone noticing, and we won't cause any trouble. If you like, we can peek out of the window to see what they are doing."

As they walked softly into the village through a thin layer of powdery snow. By then, the rapidly falling night of mid-December had enveloped the small village. There was almost nothing visible except for the dim orange-red squares lining the streets. Through those windows, the firelight and lights in every farmhouse streamed into the dark world outside. Most of these low lattice windows are not hung with curtains, and the people inside do not shy away from the onlookers outside the windows. They sat around the tea table, concentrating on their handicrafts, or waving their arms and laughing loudly. Everyone looked elegant and comfortable, which is exactly the state that skilled actors aspire to achieve - without any awareness of the fact that they are facing the audience. a natural state. These two spectators, far from their own homes, casually wandered from one theater to another. There is something in their eyes when they see a cat being petted, a sleepy child being carried to bed, or a tired man stretching and banging his pipe on the end of a smoking log. A look of longing.

However, there was a small window with the curtains drawn, showing only a translucent blank in the darkness. Only here, the feeling of home, the feeling of the small world with low curtains in the small room, the feeling of shutting out and forgetting the tense big world of nature outside, is the strongest. Close to the white curtains, hanging A birdcage reflects a clear silhouette. Every wire, every perch, every appendage, even yesterday's rounded sugar cube, was clearly visible. The fluffy bird perched on a perch in the center of the cage, its head deeply The ground was buried in the wings and seemed very close to them, as if they could reach out and touch it. His round feather body, and even the thin feather tips, are like pencil drawings traced on the luminous screen. As they watched, the sleepy little thing stirred restlessly, woke up, fluffed its feathers, and raised its head. As he yawned lazily, they could see his tiny beak open wide. He looked around, then buried his head under his wings, and his fluffy feathers gradually gathered in and became still. At this time, a gust of biting wind blew into the back of their necks, and the cold rain and snow stung their skin. They seemed to wake up from a dream, feeling that their toes were cold and their legs were sore. Only then did they realize that they were leaving. My home still has a long journey to go.

As soon as you leave the village, the huts disappear immediately. On both sides of the road they smelled the scent of friendly fields again, rushing towards them through the darkness. So they cheered up and embarked on the final journey. This is the way home, and they know that this journey will end sooner or later. At that moment, the door latch clicked, a fire suddenly appeared in front of them, and familiar things welcomed them like overseas travelers returning from a long absence. They walked resolutely, silently, each thinking about his own thoughts. The Mole was preoccupied with supper. It was completely dark, and there were unfamiliar fields all around, so he just followed the Rat obediently and let the Rat lead the way.

As for the Rat, he walked in front as usual, with his shoulders slightly stooped and his eyes fixed on the straight gray road ahead. Therefore, he paid little attention to the poor Mole. At that moment, a call, like an electric shock, suddenly touched the Mole.

We humans have long lost the subtler physical sensations, and cannot even find the appropriate words to describe the relationship between an animal and its environment - living or inanimate. A close communication relationship. For example, there is a whole set of subtle vibrations buzzing in the nostrils of animals day and night, such as calling, warning, teasing, rejection, etc. We can only use one word "smell" to summarize. At this moment, it was just such a mysterious fairy-like voice coming from the void, reaching the mole through the darkness. Its very familiar call made the Mole tremble all over, although he could not remember what it was for the moment. Walk, walk. He suddenly stopped there, sniffing everywhere with his nose, trying hard to catch the filament, the bundle of electricity that touched him strongly. In just a moment, he caught it, and with it came a flood of memories.

Home! This is the message they are sending him! A series of kind pleas, a series of gentle touches floating from the air. Invisible little hands pulled and pulled, all moving in the same direction! Ah, it must be right in front of him at this moment, his hometown. Ever since he first discovered the river, he left in a hurry and never looked back! Now, it sent spies and messengers to find him and bring him back. Ever since he ran away from home that bright morning, he had been immersed in his new life, enjoying all the joy, fun, and fascinating new experiences this life had brought him; as for his hometown, he had never even thought about it. Now, as memories of the past come flooding back, my hometown appears clearly before my eyes in the darkness. His home, though small, humble and sparsely furnished, was his, a home he had built for himself, a home to which he returned happily after a hard day's work. This family obviously also likes him, misses him, and looks forward to his return. Home is speaking to him sadly and plaintively through his nose, not resentful or angry, but simply reminding him miserably: Home is here and it needs him.

The call is clear, the call is clear. He must obey immediately and go back. "Rat!" he shouted excitedly, full of joy. "Stop! Come back! I need you, quickly!"

"Oh, come on, Mole, come quickly!" River Rat He shouted excitedly, still struggling to move forward without stopping.

"Stop, please, Rat!" the poor Mole begged, his heart aching. "You don't understand! This is my home, my hometown! I just smelled it, it's so close, so close. I must go back, must, must! Come back, Rat, please , please!”

At this time, the Rat was already far ahead and could not hear clearly what the Mole was shouting, nor could he hear the pleading in the Mole’s voice. A sharp tone. Moreover, he was worried that the weather was going to change because he also smelled something - he suspected it might be snowing.

"Mole, we can't stop now, we really can't stop!" he shouted back. "Whatever you find, let's come back and see tomorrow. But I don't dare to stop now - it's getting late, it's going to snow again, and I'm not familiar with this route. Mole, I need to rely on your nose, So come on, good boy!" The Rat didn't wait for the Mole to answer, but just kept walking forward.

Poor Mole stood alone in the road, his heart torn. He felt that a large pool of sad tears was gathering and swelling in his chest, and was about to well up in his throat and burst out. But even in the face of such a severe test, his loyalty to his friends remained unwavering, and he never thought of abandoning them for a moment. But at the same time, the message from his hometown was begging, whispering, nurturing, casting magic on him, and finally commanding his absolute obedience imperiously. He did not dare to stay longer in its magic circle, so he suddenly broke his heartstrings, turned his face to the road ahead, and followed the rat's footsteps obediently. Although, the looming smell still clung to the tip of his nose that was gradually disappearing, blaming him for making new friends and forgetting old ones.

It took him a long time to catch the Rat. The Rat was unaware of his secret, and chatted cheerfully to him about what they were going to do when they got home. How nice it is to have a wood fire burning in the living room. What to have for dinner. He paid no attention to the silence and melancholy look of his companion.

But later, when they had walked a long way and passed some tree stumps beside the bushes on the roadside, he stopped and said with concern: "Hey, Mole, old man, you seem to be exhausted. Not to mention, your legs feel like they are tied with lead. Let’s sit here and rest for a while. Fortunately, the snow has not fallen yet, and we have already walked most of the journey.”

Mole. The rat sat down miserably on a tree stump, trying hard to control his emotions, because he thought he was about to cry. He kept struggling hard and suppressing his crying, but the crying was not obedient and kept coming up bit by bit, one sound after another, followed by a series of intense gongs. Finally, he had no choice but to stop struggling and burst into tears in despair. Because he knew that he had lost what he had almost found and that it was all over.

The Rat was so stunned by the Mole's sudden grief that he did not dare to speak for a moment. Finally, he said very calmly and sympathetically: "What's going on, old man? Tell us your troubles and see if I can help."

The poor Mole was simply He was speechless, his chest heaved violently, and he choked back the words when he reached his mouth. Later, he finally choked up and said intermittently: "I know, my home is a - poor and dirty hut, not as comfortable as - your residence - not as beautiful as Toad Palace - not as good as... The badger's house is so spacious - but it is my own little home after all - I like it - after I left home, I completely forgot about it - but I suddenly smelled its scent again - just On the way, when I called you, but you ignored me - everything from the past came to me like a tide - I needed it! - Oh my God! - You just refused to look back, He. Rat - I had to leave him even though I kept smelling him - it broke my heart - we could have gone back and had a look at him, Rat - just one look - it Nearby - but you don't want to look back, Rat, you don't want to look back! Oh God! Oh God!" The memory set off a new wave of sadness, and he choked. He couldn't speak anymore.

The Rat stared straight ahead, saying nothing, and just patted the Mole gently on the shoulder. After a while he murmured in frustration: "Now I understand it all! What a pig I am! - a pig - that's me! - a pig in every sense of the word - a real one Pig!"

The Rat waited until the Mole's cries gradually subsided and became more or less rhythmic, until the Mole just sniffed and occasionally sobbed. . At this time, the Rat stood up from the tree stump and said calmly: "Okay, old man, let's get started now!" With that, he walked towards the original road they had walked so hard.

"Where are you going, Rat?" exclaimed the tearful Mole, looking up at him.

“Old man, let’s go find your home,” said the River Rat happily. “You’d better come too. It may take a while to find it, and you need to use your nose. "

"Oh, come back, Rat, come back!" The Mole stood up and chased the Rat. "I tell you, it's no use! It's too late, it's too dark, it's too far away, and it's going to snow again! Besides - I didn't mean to let you know my feelings for it - It's purely accidental, it's a mistake! Think of the river bank and your supper!" "To hell with the river bank and your supper!" said the River Rat sincerely. "I'm telling you, I have to go find your house, even if I stay out all night. Cheer up, old friend, take my arm, and we'll be back where we were soon. ."

The Mole was still sniffling and begging, reluctantly letting his friend drag him back. The Rat kept telling him stories to cheer him up and make the tedious journey seem shorter. Later, the Rat felt that they seemed to have arrived at the place where the Mole had "stumbled", and said, "Now, stop talking and get down to business! Use your nose and your heart to find it."

They walked forward in silence for a short distance. Suddenly, the Rat felt a weak electric tremor, passing through the Mole's body and coming from the arm he held. He immediately withdrew his arm, stepped back, and waited with all his attention.

For a moment, the mole stood stiffly still, his upturned nose trembling slightly, sniffing the air.

Then he hurried forward a few steps - made a mistake - stopped - and tried again; then, he walked forward slowly, firmly and confidently.

The river rat was very excited and followed the mole step by step. Like a sleepwalker, the mole crossed a dry ditch, crawled through a hedge, and sniffed across a wide, bare, pathless field under the dim starlight.

Suddenly, without any warning, he dove into the ground. Thanks to the Rat's heightened alertness, he immediately followed, into the tunnel that his sensitive nose detected.

The tunnel is very narrow, stuffy, and has a pungent earthy smell. It seemed to the Rat that they had walked for a long time before they reached the end and he could straighten up, stretch his limbs, and shake himself. The Mole struck a match, and by the light of the fire the Rat saw them standing in a clearing. The ground was swept clean and covered with a layer of sand. Facing them was the small front door of the Mole's house. There was a bell rope hanging next to the door. Above the door, three bold letters were painted: "Mole's House".

The Mole took a lantern from the wall and lit it. The Rat looked around and saw that they were in a vestibule. On one side of the door, there is a garden chair, and on the other side, there is a stone roller. This is because the mole likes to be tidy at home and does not like other animals kicking his ground into small mounds with footprints. On the wall hung several wire baskets with some ferns, and between the baskets were brackets on which were placed clay statues - Garibald's, young Samuel, Queen Victoria, and others. There are other Italian heroes. At the lower end of the vestibule, there is a skittle theater, surrounded by benches and small wooden tables. There are some circles printed on the table, which are signs of beer glasses. In the center of the courtyard was a small, round pond with goldfish and a rim of sea scallops. In the center of the pond stood a strange-shaped tower covered with sea scallop shells. On the top of the tower was a large silver-white glass ball, which reflected everything out of shape and looked funny.

Seeing these kind objects, the mole's face burst into a happy smile. He pushed the Rat into the door, lit a lamp in the hall, and took a quick look around his old home. He saw that everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, saw the desolate scene of the house he had long forgotten, saw how small its rooms were, and how simple and outdated its furnishings were. He could not help but feel depressed. He stood up and slumped down on the chair, covering his nose with his paws. "Rat!" he cried sadly, "Why did I do this? Why did I drag you to this poor and cold hut in such a cold night! Otherwise, you would have returned to the river bank by now. , warming his feet in front of the roaring fire, surrounded by your good things!”

The River Rat ignored his sad remorse and just ran around, opening the doors. , looking into the various rooms and cupboards, there were many lamps and candles lit all over the house. "What a wonderful little house!" he exclaimed happily. "How compact! How cleverly designed! Nothing is missing, everything is in perfect order! We will have a great time tonight. The first thing is to light a good fire, which I will take care of ——I'm good at finding things. It seems that this is the living room. Great! Did you design these small couches on the wall? I'll go get the firewood and coal. "Here, Mole, go get a duster - there's one in the drawer of the kitchen table - and dust it off, old man!"

The Mole's companion encouraged him enthusiastically. The rat was so inspired that he cheered up and worked hard to clean. The Rat came again and again, bringing in more firewood, and soon there was a roaring fire, and the flames roared up the chimney. He called to the Mole to come over and warm himself by the fire. But the Mole suddenly became sad again, fell down on a deck chair in frustration, and covered his face with a duster.

"Rat," he whimpered, "what will you do with your supper? You poor cold, hungry, tired animal, I have nothing to feed you - not even any bread. There are no scraps at all!”

“Why are you so miserable?” the Rat scolded him. "Look. Just now I clearly saw a screwdriver for opening sardine cans on the cupboard. Since you have a screwdriver, are you worried about not having a can? Cheer up and come with me to find it."

They So I rummaged through the cabinets and searched all over the house. Although the result was not very satisfying, it was not too disappointing. Sure enough, I found a can of sardines, an almost full box of biscuits, and a piece of German sausage wrapped in silver paper.

“That’s enough for your banquet!” said the Rat as he set the table. "I bet some of the animals would be happy to have supper with us tonight!"

"No bread!" moaned the Mole sadly; "No butter, no——"

p>

"No foie gras, no champagne!" sneered the Rat, curling his lips. "I just remembered - what's inside that little door at the end of the corridor? Of course it's your storage room! All your goodies are hidden there! Just wait."

He walked into the storeroom and came out a little while later, a little dusty on his body, holding a bottle of beer in each paw and a bottle of beer under each arm. "Mole, it seems you are quite a gourmet foodie," he commented. "There is always a lot of delicious food. This hut is more enjoyable than anywhere else. Hey, where did you get these pictures? Hanging these pictures will make this hut look more like a home. Tell us about it , how did you arrange it like this?”

While the Rat was busy taking the plate, knife and fork, and mixing the mustard into the egg cup, the Mole’s chest was still heaving due to the emotion just now. , he began to tell the story to the Rat, a little embarrassed at first, but then he became more and more enthusiastic and free-spirited. He told him how this was designed, how that was figured out, this was an accidental acquisition from an aunt, that was a great discovery and a bargain, and this was the result of frugality. Bought with hard-earned money. As he talked, his mood improved and he couldn't help but touch his belongings with his hands. Holding a lamp, he introduced their characteristics to the guests in detail, forgetting about the dinner that they both urgently needed. As for the River Rat, even though he was very hungry, he still pretended to be nonchalant. He nodded seriously, frowned and looked at it carefully, and then said "amazing" or "wonderful" when he saw any gaps.

Finally, the Rat finally coaxed him back to the dining table, and when he was about to open the sardine can in earnest, there was a sound in the courtyard - like little feet stamping on the sand, and little ones. The voices were all talking. Some words came to their ears intermittently - "Okay, now everyone stand in a row - Tommy, raise the lantern higher - clear your throat first - after I shout one, two, three, no more Cough - where is Little Bill? Come here, we are all waiting - "

"What happened?" The Rat stopped what he was doing and asked.

"The field mice must be here," replied the Mole, with a rather proud look on his face. "At this time of year, it's become a custom in this area for them to visit every house and sing Christmas carols. They never miss my house - they always end up at Mole House. I always treat them to a drink. Drinks, and if you can afford it, treat them to dinner. Hearing them sing Christmas songs is like going back in time."

"Let's go and see!" he shouted. Jump up and run towards the door.

They opened the door at once, and a beautiful and moving festive scene appeared in front of them. In the vestibule, under the dim light of a horn lantern, eight or ten little voles stood in a semicircle, each wearing a long red woolen scarf around their neck, their front paws deeply inserted into their pockets, and their feet light. Stomping lightly on the ground to keep warm. With bright beady eyes, they looked at each other shyly, snickered, sniffed, and pulled up their sleeves for a while. When the gate opened, the older field mouse holding the lantern shouted "Ready - one, two, three!" and then the small, thin voices sang together, singing an old Christmas song. This song was composed by their ancestors in the frost-covered fallow fields, or by the fireside with the door closed by heavy snow, and has been passed down from generation to generation. Every Christmas, the field mice stand on the muddy streets and sing these hymns in front of the brightly lit windows.

"A Christmas Carol"

Fathers and fellow villagers, in this cold season,

open your doors wide,

let Let us rest by your fireside,

Though the wind and snow may take advantage of the break,

You will be happy tomorrow!

We stand in the frost, rain and snow,

Checking our fingers and tapping our heels,

Coming from afar to bless you——

< p>You sit by the fire, we stand in the middle of the street——

I wish you a happy tomorrow morning!

Because of the time before midnight,

a star guides us forward,

blessing and good luck from heaven——

Ming Dynasty will bless you, and you will have blessings all year round.

The morning will bring endless joy!

Good man Joseph trudged in the snow——

Seeing a star in the sky above the stable;

Mary no longer needed to go forward——

< p>Welcome, hut, maternity bed under the roof!

She will be happy tomorrow morning!

Then they heard the angel say:

“Who is the first to shout Christmas?

It is all the animals,

because they live in In the stables,

The joy will be theirs tomorrow morning!"

The singing stopped, the singers smiled coyly, glanced sideways at each other, and then there was silence - but only for a moment. . Then, from far away on the ground, through the tunnel they came through, there was a faint buzzing of bells, tinkling, and a cheerful music was played.

"Well done, boys!" cried the Rat enthusiastically. "Come in, all, warm yourself up by the fire, and have something hot to eat!"

"Yes, voles, come in quickly," the Mole shouted hurriedly. "Just the same as before! Close the door. Move the bench to the fire. Now, please wait a moment until we--oh, Rat!" he cried desperately, slumping down on his chair, on the verge of tears. fell down. "What are we doing? We don't have anything to treat them to!"

"Leave this to me," said the River Rat, who was full of masters. "Hey, lantern holder, come here. I have something to ask you. Tell me, are there any shops open at this hour?"

"Of course, sir," the field mouse said respectfully. to answer. "At this time of year, our shop is open day and night."

"That's good!" said the Rat. "You go immediately with a lantern and buy me——"

Then they whispered for a while, and Mole only heard a few words here and there, what——"Be careful, want fresh ones! ——No, one pound is enough. It must be made by Perkins. I don’t want anything else. No, just the best. If that store doesn’t have it, try another one. Yes, of course it must be homemade. Yes, no cans - well, do your best!" Then, a bunch of jingles were heard, a handful of coins fell from one paw to the other, and a large shopping basket was handed to the field mouse. So the field mouse took the lantern and went out quickly.

The rest of the voles sat in a row on the bench, with their little legs hanging and swinging back and forth, enjoying the warmth of the fire. They baked the chilblains on their feet over the fire until they stung and itched. The Mole tried to induce them to talk freely, but failed, so he talked about family history and asked them to tell the names of their many brothers one by one. It seems that because their brothers are still young, they are not allowed to go out to sing Christmas songs this year. song, but maybe I will get my parents’ permission soon.

At this time, the Rat was busy looking at the label on the beer bottle. "You can see it's from Old Burton," he commented approvingly. "Mole is very knowledgeable! It's an authentic product! Now we can use it to mix hot mulled wine! Mole, get your household items ready, and I'll uncork the bottle."

The mulled wine will be mixed quickly. Okay, so I plunged the tin pot of wine into the red flame; after a while, every vole was sipping, coughing, and choking (because a little hot mulled wine is powerful enough) , wiped tears, laughed again, forgetting that they had been freezing in their lives.

"These little guys can act," the Mole introduced to the Rat. "The play was all written and performed by them. The acting was awesome! Last year, they performed a wonderful play for us, about a field mouse who was captured by a North African pirate ship at sea and forced to live in the cabin of the ship. He paddled there. Later he escaped and when he returned to his hometown, his beloved girl entered the monastery. Hey, you participated in the show.

Stand up and read us a line. "

The named vole stood up, giggled shyly, glanced around, but was speechless and could not utter a word. His companions cheered him up, and the mole coaxed and encouraged him. He, the Rat, even grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, but nothing worked, and he just couldn't shake himself off. They circled around him like a bunch of sailors trying to save a drowning man according to the rules of the Royal Society for the Rescue of Drowned Persons. Like a person who has been drowning for a long time. At this time, the door latch clicked and the door opened. The field mouse holding the lantern staggered under the weight of the heavy basket and walked in.

Waiting until the basket was full of fruits. When the real things were poured out on the table, there was no mention of the drama. Under the control of the Rat, every animal was doing something or getting something. In a few minutes, dinner was served. It was ready. The Mole sat down at the head of the dining table as if in a dream. He saw that the table that was empty just now was now filled with delicious food. He saw that his children were all beaming with joy and couldn't wait to devour them. He himself also He let his belly go and munched on the magic food. He thought to himself that this time he returned home, and the results were so satisfactory. They talked while eating, and the voles told him about the recent local news and tried their best to answer. He asked hundreds of questions. The River Rat said little and only asked the guests to get what they needed and enjoy themselves, so that the Mole didn't have to worry about anything.

In the end, the voles chatted quietly. They thanked the host repeatedly, wished the host a happy holiday, and left. Their pockets were filled with souvenirs for the younger brothers and sisters at home. After seeing off the last guest, the door was closed and the lanterns were lit. When the tinkling gradually faded away, the Mole and the Rat turned up the fire, pulled up the chairs, warmed themselves the last glass of sweet wine before going to bed, and talked about what happened at the end of the long day. , the Rat yawned greatly, and said, "Mole, old friend, I am so exhausted. The word 'sleepy' is not enough. Your own bed is over there, right? Then I will sleep on this bed. What a wonderful little house! Everything is very convenient! ”

The Rat crawled into his bed, wrapped himself tightly in the blanket, and immediately fell into sleep, like a row of barley falling into the arms of the reaper.

The tired Mole was eager to go to sleep quickly, and immediately laid his head on the pillow, feeling very comfortable. However, before closing his eyes, he had to look around his room, which was illuminated by the fire. The room looked very soft and warm. The firelight flickered, illuminating the familiar and friendly objects that had become a part of him unconsciously. They were now welcoming him back with smiles and no complaints. His current state of mind was right. It was the state that the astute Rat quietly led him into. He clearly saw how ordinary and humble his home was, but at the same time he also knew how important they were to him in his life. What a special meaning this kind of haven had. He did not intend to abandon the new life and the bright open world, to leave the sunshine and air and all the joy they gave him, to crawl underground and stay at home. The pull of the world was too strong, even in the underground, and it kept calling him. He knew that he had to return to the bigger stage, but it was always a good thing to have a place like this. They belong entirely to him, and they are always delighted to see him, and receive the same cordial reception no matter when he comes back.