Hello there and welcome to this episode of Down to Sleep, the podcast of softly spoken stories to

help you get a good night's rest. On tonight's episode, The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Graham.

Go ahead and get yourself nice and comfortable and we'll get ready to begin. I'll read this story to

you. All you've got to do is fall asleep.

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But for now, let's jump in to the Wind and the Willows with Chapter 1, the Riverbank.

The mole had been working very hard all morning, spring cleaning his little home.

First with brooms, then with dusters, then on ladders and steps and chairs with a brush and a pail of whitewash,

till he had dust in his throat and eyes and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching

back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above, and in the earth below, and around

him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.

It was small wonder then that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said,

Bother, and old blow, and also hang spring cleaning, and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat.

Something up above was calling him imperiously, and he made for the steep little tunnel,

which answered in his case to the gravel carriage drive owned by animals,

whose residence is nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and

scratched and scrabbled and scrooged, and then when he scroogeed again and scrabbled and scratched

and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, up we go, up we go, till

...