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◆萌化人心，正能量爆棚——一本让你读懂友谊、学会爱、感受成长的暖心动物童话。
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◆分角色朗读的范本，亲子共读的典范——一本迅速提升亲子亲密度的神奇之书。
全程多是小动物们的对话，每个动物的语气形态和风格都不一样，分角色朗读画面感十足——你与孩子的亲密度，只差一本《柳林风声》的距离。
◆温馨提示：
（1）斜体字在文中表示强调，这是从原版开始就一直保留的特色元素。朗读/默读时据此揣摩语气，阅读起来更带感哦。
（2）与无删减插图全译中文版（柳林风声（经典插图本，著名儿童翻译家张炽恒全本全译））相对照，阅读体验会更好~~
【内容简介】
《柳林风声》是一部妙趣横生、温馨有爱的动物童话，讲述的是几个小动物居家度日、外出游玩儿、离家历险，以及齐心协力夺回家园的故事。这里有胆小却喜欢冒险、对朋友十分忠诚的鼹鼠莫尔，有热情好客、宽容体贴又充满浪漫诗趣的水鼠兰特，有侠义持重、颇具领导风范又不喜社交的獾子班杰，还有虚荣浮夸、不断追求新事物、喜欢冒险刺激的癞蛤蟆托德。他们在风景如画的杨柳河岸、神秘莫测的野树林中演绎了一幕幕有乐同享、有难同当的美丽故事。
现在，带上你的童心，踏上杨柳河岸，追随鼹鼠莫尔的脚步，开启惊险刺激又充满温情的旅程吧！
【作者简介】
肯尼斯•格雷厄姆（Kenneth Grahame，1859—1932），英国童话作家。他自幼失去双亲，跟着外公外婆在乡间生活，这使酷爱大自然和文学的他，得到了充分的滋养。而那风景如画的乡野风光，正是《柳林风声》中几个小动物的美丽世界。
他一生坎坷，被家人安排做了一名银行职员。但骨子里对文字的热爱和对幼子的无限深情，使他用温暖细腻的笔触和奇幻丰富的想象力写出了《柳林风声》。《柳林风声》描绘了诗意的大自然和友爱的小生灵，语言灵动，充满脉脉温情，是英国散文体作品的典范。
【媒体评论】
这本书非常得棒，文笔风趣幽默，又很温馨感人。其中对自然环境和动物的描写都非常的吸引人，从动物们的身上也可以看到自己的影子。
——爱书的网友
这是我这辈子看过*棒的童话书。如果条件可以的话，（读）英文*。
——贴吧网友ericgao0517
【目录】
1 The River Bank
2 The Open Road
3 The Wild Wood
4 Mr. Badger
5 Dulce Domum
6 Mr. Toad
7 The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
8 Toad’s Adventures
9 Wayfarers All
10 The Further Adventures of Toad
11 “Like Summer Tempests Came His Tears”
12 The Return of Ulysses
【免费在线读】
1 The River Bank
The Mole had been working very hard all the 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 “O 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 gravelled carriage-drive owned by animals whose residences are nearer to the sun and air. So he scraped and scratched and scrabbled and scrooged and then he scrooged again and scrabbled and scratched and scraped, working busily with his little paws and muttering to himself, “Up we go! Up we go!” till at last, pop! his snout came out into the sunlight and he found himself rolling in the warm grass of a great meadow.
“This is fine!” he said to himself. “This is better than whitewashing!” The sunshine struck hot on his fur, soft breezes caressed his heated brow, and after the seclusion of the cellarage he had lived in so long the carol of happy birds fell on his dulled hearing almost like a shout. Jumping off all his four legs at once, in the joy of living and the delight of spring without its cleaning, he pursued his way across the meadow till he reached the hedge on the further side.
“Hold up!” said an elderly rabbit at the gap. “Sixpence for the privilege of passing by the private road!” He was bowled over in an instant by the impatient and contemptuous Mole, who trotted along the side of the hedge chaffing the other rabbits as they peeped hurriedly from their holes to see what the row was about. “Onion-sauce! Onion-sauce!” he remarked jeeringly, and was gone before they could think of a thoroughly satisfactory reply. Then they all started grumbling at each other. “How stupid you are! Why didn’t you tell him——” “Well, why didn’t you say——” “You might have reminded him——” and so on, in the usual way; but, of course, it was then much too late, as is always the case.
It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. And instead of having an uneasy conscience pricking him and whispering “whitewash!” he somehow could only feel how jolly it was to be the only idle dog among all these busy citizens. After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself, as to see all the other fellows busy working.
…………
“I beg your pardon,” said the Mole, pulling himself together with an effort. “You must think me very rude; but all this is so new to me. So—this—is—a—River!”
“The River,” corrected the Rat.
“And you really live by the river? What a jolly life!”
“By it and with it and on it and in it,” said the Rat. “It’s brother and sister to me, and aunts, and company, and food and drink, and (naturally) washing. It’s my world, and I don’t want any other. What it hasn’t got is not worth having, and what it doesn’t know is not worth knowing. Lord! the times we’ve had together! Whether in winter or summer, spring or autumn, it’s always got its fun and its excitements. When the floods are on in February, and my cellars and basement are brimming with drink that’s no good to me, and the brown water runs by my best bedroom window; or again when it all drops away and shows patches of mud that smells like plum-cake, and the rushes and weed clog the channels, and I can potter about dry shod over most of the bed of it and find fresh food to eat, and things careless people have dropped out of boats!”
