The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad

Ichabod and Mr Toad

Ichabod

Ichabod and Mr Toad

Ichabod, Ichabod and Mr Toad...

If you were asked to chose the most fabulous character in English literature,

who would it be?

Robin Hood? King Arthur?

Becky Sharp?

Sherlock Holmes? Oliver Twist, perhaps?

Any one of them would be an excellent choice.

But as the most fabulous character of all, I nominate

a toad.

J Thaddeus Toad, Esquire. Have you never met him?

You'll find his story in "The Wind in the Willows".

Toad was the one disturbing element.

Incurable adventurer, mad, reckless, tried everything.

A positive mania for fads, and he never counted the cost.

He had a host of fair-weather friends.

But there were only three who had his best interests at heart.

One was a badger. MacBadger.

And then there was a water rat.

A bit stuffy, perhaps, but really a fine fellow. And a mole.

A gentle creature, kind and sympathetic.

They all made their homes in a quaint community along a riverbank.

On that particular day, Mole was in a hurry because...

because he was late for tea.

A regrettable habit, but Rat had learned to put up with it.

Sorry, says Mole. Quite alright, says Rat. Two lumps?

Then, just as they were getting settled...

- Special Delivery, Mr Rat. - Thank you, Postman.

How's everything on the river, sir?

Dashed quiet, as usual, thank you.

Mole, listen.

"Dear Rat: You and Mole must come to Toad Hall at once."

"Urgent!! A MacBadger."

Rat was certain Toad was making trouble again.

The answer to that lay just around the bend at Toad Hall,

the ancestral home of J Thaddeus himself.

This impressive structure was the finest home on the river.

The animals were tremendously proud of it.

They felt it gave the whole community an air of respectability.

To lose Toad Hall was, of course, unthinkable,

and yet it was no secret that Toad's follies

had brought him to the brink of bankruptcy.

So, MacBadger had volunteered to put Toad's house in order.

Smashed fence. Two guineas.

Damage, lamp post. Four pound six.

Destruction of hen house...

How can a man figure with all this hubbub?

- I'll not be put off! - Pay my bill!

- I want my money! - Silence!

You'll get your money in due course.

Now, go along with you. I'll pay no more today.

Why did I assume the responsibility of looking after...

Didn't I tell you...?

It's you, Rat. And Mole, too. Thank goodness, lads.

You've come at last.

Poor MacBadger. He'd reached the end of his rope.

As he said himself...

I'm practically a nervous wreck.

I say! What seems to be the trouble?

Summat's got to be done about Toad! This time he's gone too far!

But he promised us...

Promises? What good are promises when wild manias take him?

Now, look, you're his closest friends, are you not?

- Yes. - Very dear friends.

Then you must find Toad and stop him!

- What's he doing? - He's got a new mania.

He's rampaging about the county in a canary-yellow gypsy cart.

With a horse named Cyril.

Tally-ho!

Are we on our way to Nottingham, to Brittingham, to Buckingham

Or any hammy hamlet by the sea? No!

Are we on our way to Devonshire, to Lancashire or Worcestershire?

I'm not so sure We'll have to wait and see

Are we on our way to Dover? Or going merrily over

The jolly old road that goes to Plymouth Ho?

No! We're merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

On our way to nowhere in particular

We're merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily on our way

Though the roads are perpendicular

- We're always in a hurry - We have no time to stall

We've gotta be there We've gotta be there

But where, we can't recall

We're merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily on our way

And we may be going to Devonshire, to Lancashire, to Worcestershire

We're not so sure, but what do we care?

We're only sure we've got to be there

We're merrily on our way to nowhere at all

Hello, you fellows!

You're the very animals I was coming to see!

Come along! Hop up! We'll go for a jolly ride!

The open road, the dusty highway. Come!

I'll show you the world.

Travel, change, excitement...

How stupid of me! I want you fellows to meet my noble steed Cyril.

Aye, that's me.

A bit of a trotter, a bit of a rotter.

How do you do, how do you do, how do you do?

How do you do?

Say, guv'nor, your friends seem a bit on the stuffy side.

Toad, we want to have a talk with you.

A visit! Splendid!

This is serious. You must give up that horse and cart.

Give up my... But my dear Ratty, this is my career!

- You can't mean... - I do!

- You must stop this foolishness! - No.

- You must! - No. I won't do it.

Your reckless behaviour is giving animals a bad name!

You're becoming a menace to society.

At least think of poor MacBadger!

And as for that horse, no good will come of gadding about

with such a fast and irresponsible beast!

- Get him, Mole! - Come down, Toady.

Stop it! Let me go! Giddy up, Cyril! Giddy up!

It's no use. You'll never get me to give this up!

Tally-ho! Yikes!

Look!

Gad! What is it?

- Lummy, guv'nor, it's a motorcar. - Motorcar?

A motorcar... Gad! What have I been missing?

- Ratty, it isn't... He hasn't... - It is, and he has.

A new mania. Motor mania.

Mania.

That's it. That's what it was. A positive mania.

No telling where it would end. Might linger for months.

And with Toad Hall at stake, Rat and Mole had no choice.

Only one thing to do.

Lock the poor chap up until the poison worked out of his system.

Hold him, Moley!

- That's better. - And you can't escape.

Simply no use trying.

Let me out! Open up, I say! Please!

Open the door!

Playing jailer to one's dearest friend wasn't pleasant.

In fact, Moley immediately wanted to call it quits, but Ratty said no.

This time they must be firm.

It wasn't just a matter of saving Toad from himself.

There was MacBadger to consider, and Toad Hall and all it stood for.

There was only one thing wrong with Ratty's cure for motor mania.

It didn't work. You see, Toad was far too clever.

And, at the moment, completely mad. He was determined to get a motorcar,

even if he had to beg, borrow or...

Toad arrested! Extra!

His Majesty versus J Thaddeus Toad, Toad Hall,

Riverbank, Doodle-Bunton- Maxon-Morton, Surrey.

24th day of August, set forth in the following brief.

Accused is J Thaddeus Toad, of stealing a motorcar,

and with it, endangering sundry subjects of His Majesty,

- their life and limbs. - Counsel for the Crown,

proceed with the case.

My lord, I call, as first Crown witnesses,

Mr Rat and Mr Mole!

Is it true that you had the accused locked in his own house

because he had threatened to get a motorcar?

Did you, or did you not, have him locked up?

- We did. - Thank you! That is all!

- Next witness. - Mr Angus MacBadger!

As trustee of the Toad estate,

you knew of the prisoner's mania for motorcars?

And due to his extravagance, you cut off his allowance?

Then he was, to the best of your knowledge, without funds?

That is all! Thank you!

Gentlemen of the jury, the Crown rests.

Counsel for the defence will present his case.

My lord, with the court's indulgence,

I rise prepared to plead my own defence.

Stop it.

Gentlemen of the jury...

I call, as my first witness, Cyril Proudbottom.

Are you acquainted with the defendant, J Thaddeus Toad?

Lord love a duck, yes! He's one of the jolliest chaps I've run across.

And simply tons of money.

Good fellow? Throws it away.

But he wasn't throwing it away that day!

You heard Mr MacBadger testify that his allowance was cut off.

Then how did he get a motorcar?

The only way a gentleman gets anything.

- The honest way. - And what is the honest way?

I thought you wouldn't know!

Your Lordship, I...

The witness may testify in his own words.

Righto, guv'nor. I'll just give you the facts.

When Toady escaped from his boudoir he headed straight for my place.

Soon we was off down the highway,

but we hadn't gone far, I confess, when, with a rush and a roar...

something passed like the London Express.

It was big, it was red, it was beautiful.

A motorcar, a bit of alright.

Toady was transfixed with... rapture.

You could tell it was love at first sight.

The motor pulled up to a tavern, wherein was located a bar.

And we watched while some tough-looking weasels

got out of that lovely red car.

Now, weasels, I know, are deceitful.

And not to be trusted, at all.

But how could I know they'd stolen that car?

I didn't have no crystal ball.

The guv'nor is not one to dally.

He made up his mind like a flash. He says...