The Mole hobbled up to the spot and had a good look. 

 “Well,” he said at last, slowly, “I SEE it right enough. Seen the same sort of thing before, lots of times. Familiar object, I call it. A door-scraper! Well, what of it? Why dance jigs around a door-scraper?” 

 “But don’t you see what it means, you—you dull-witted animal?” cried the Rat impatiently. 

 “Of course I see what it means,” replied the Mole. “It simply means that some VERY careless and forgetful person has left his door-scraper lying about in the middle of the Wild Wood, just where it’s sure to trip everybody up. Very thoughtless of him, I call it. When I get home I shall go and complain about it to—to somebody or other, see if I don’t!” 

 “O, dear! O, dear!” cried the Rat, in despair at his obtuseness. “Here, stop arguing and come and scrape!” And he set to work again and made the snow fly in all directions around him. 

 After some further toil his efforts were rewarded, and a very shabby door-mat lay exposed to view. 

 “There, what did I tell you?” exclaimed the Rat in great triumph. 

 “Absolutely nothing whatever,” replied the Mole, with perfect truthfulness. “Well now,” he went on, “you seem to have found another piece of domestic litter, done for and thrown away, and I suppose you’re perfectly happy. Better go ahead and dance your jig round that if you’ve got to, and get it over, and then perhaps we can go on and not waste any more time over rubbish-heaps. Can we EAT a doormat? or sleep under a door-mat? Or sit on a door-mat and sledge home over the snow on it, you exasperating rodent?” 

 “Do—you—mean—to—say,” cried the excited Rat, “that this door-mat doesn’t tell you anything?” 

 “Really, Rat,” said the Mole, quite pettishly, “I think we’d had enough of this folly. Who ever heard of a door-mat telling anyone anything? They simply don’t do it. They are not that sort at all. Door-mats know their place.” 

 “Now look here, you—you thick-headed beast,” replied the Rat, really angry, “this must stop. Not another word, but scrape—scrape and scratch and dig and hunt round, especially on the sides of the hummocks, if you want to sleep dry and warm to-night, for it’s our last chance!” 

 The Rat attacked a snow-bank beside them with ardour, probing with his cudgel everywhere and 

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