As he sat there on that old stump some of Prickly Porky’s little spears could be seen peeping out from the long hair on his back, but they didn’t look particularly dangerous. Peter Rabbit suddenly made a discovery. “Why!” he exclaimed. “He hasn’t any little spears on the under side of him!”

“I wondered who would be the first to notice that,” said Old Mother Nature. “No, Prickly Porky hasn’t any little spears underneath, and Pekan the Fisher has found that out. He knows that if he can turn Prickly Porky on his back he can kill him without much danger from those little spears, and he has learned how to do that very thing. That is why Prickly Porky is afraid of him. Now, Prickly Porky, climb down off that stump and show these little folks what you do when an enemy comes near.”

Grumbling and growling, Prickly Porky climbed down to the ground. Then he tucked his head down between his front paws and suddenly the thousand little spears appeared all over him, pointing in every direction until he looked like a giant chestnut burr. Then he began to thrash his tail from side to side.

“What is he doing that for?” asked Johnny Chuck, looking rather puzzled.

“Go near enough to be hit by it, and you’ll understand,” said Old Mother Nature dryly. “That is his one weapon. Whoever is hit by that tail will find himself full of those little spears and will take care never to go near Prickly Porky again. Once those little spears have entered the skin, they keep working in deeper and deeper, and more than one of his enemies has been killed by them. On account of those tiny barbs they are hard to pull out, and pulling them out hurts dreadfully. Just try one and see.”

But no one was anxious to try, so Old Mother Nature paused only a moment. “You will notice that he moves that tail quickly,” she continued. “It is the only thing about him which is quick. When he has a chance, in time of danger, he likes to get his head under a log or rock, instead of putting it between his paws as he is doing now. Then he plants his feet firmly and waits for a chance to use that tail.”

“Is it true that he can throw those little spears at folks?” asked Peter.

Old Mother Nature shook her head. “There isn’t a word of truth in it,” she declared. “That story probably was started by some one who was hit by his tail, and it was done so quickly that the victim didn’t see the tail move and so thought the little spears were thrown at him.”

“How does he make all those little spears stand up that way?” asked Jumper the Hare.

“He has a special set of muscles for just that purpose,” explained Old Mother Nature.

“When those quills stick into some one they must pull out of Prickly Porky’s own skin; I should think that would hurt him,” spoke up Striped Chipmunk.

“Not at all,” replied Old Mother Nature. “They are very loosely fastened in his skin and come out at the least little pull. New Ones grow to take the place of those he loses. Notice that he puts his whole foot flat on the ground just as Buster Bear and Bobby Coon do, and just as those two-legged creatures called men do. Very few animals do this, and those that do are said to be plantigrade. Now, Prickly Porky, tell us what you eat and where you make your home, and that will end today’s lesson.”

“I eat bark, twigs and leaves mostly,” grunted Prickly Porky ungraciously. “I like hemlock best of all, but also eat poplar, pine and other trees for a change. Sometimes I stay in a tree for days until I have stripped it of all its bark and leaves. I don’t see any sense in moving about any more than is necessary.”

“But that must kill the tree!” exclaimed Peter Rabbit.

“Well, what of it?” demanded Prickly Porky crossly. “There are plenty of trees. In summer I like lily pads and always get them when I can.”

“Can you swim?” asked Peter eagerly.

“Of course,” grunted Prickly Porky.

“I never see you out on the Green Meadows,” said Peter.

“And you never will,” retorted Prickly Porky. “The Green Forest for me every time. Summer or winter, I’m at home there.”

“Don’t you sleep through the cold weather the way Buster Bear and I do?” asked Johnny Chuck.

“What should I sleep for?” grumbled Prickly Porky. “Cold weather doesn’t bother me. I like it. I have the Green Forest pretty much to myself then. I like to be alone. And as long as there are trees, there is plenty to eat. I sleep a great deal in the daytime because I like night best.”

“What about your home?” asked Happy Jack.

“Home is wherever I happen to be, most of the time, but Mrs. Porky has a home in a hollow log or a cave or under the roots of a tree where the babies are born. I guess that’s all I’ve got to tell you.”

“You might add that those babies are big for the size of their mother and have a full supply of quills when they are born,” said Old Mother Nature. “And you forgot to say how fond of salt you are, and how often this fondness gets you into trouble around the camps of men. Your fear of Pekan the Fisher we all saw. I might add that Puma the Panther is to be feared at times, and when he is very hungry Buster Bear will take a chance on turning you on your back. By the way, don’t any of you call Prickly Porky a Hedgehog. He isn’t any thing of the kind. He is sometimes called a Quill Pig, but his real name, Porcupine, is best. He has no near relatives. Tomorrow morning, instead of meeting here, we’ll hold school on the shore of the pond Paddy the Beaver has made. School is dismissed.”

Chapter XII.
A Lumberman and Engineer

Johnny Chuck and Striped Chipmunk were the only ones who were not on hand at the pond of Paddy the Beaver deep in the Green Forest at sun-up the next morning. Johnny and Striped Chipmunk were afraid to go so far from home. To the surprise of everybody, Prickly Porky was there.

“He must have traveled all night to get here he is such a slow-poke,” said Peter Rabbit to his cousin, Jumper the Hare.

Peter wasn’t far from the truth. But how ever he got there, there he was, reaching for lily pads from an old log which lay half in the water, and appearing very well satisfied with life. You know there is nothing like a good meal of things you like, to make everything seem just as it should.

Old Mother Nature seated herself on one end of Paddy’s dam and called the school to order. Just as she did so a brown head popped out of the water close by and a pair of anxious eyes looked up at Old Mother Nature.

“It is quite all right, Paddy,” said she softly. “These little folks are trying to gain a little knowledge of themselves and other folks, and we are going to have this morning’s lesson right here because it is to be about you.”

Paddy the Beaver no longer looked anxious. There was a sparkle in his eyes. “May I stay?” he asked eagerly. “If there is a chance to learn anything I don’t want to miss it.”

Before Old Mother Nature could reply Peter Rabbit spoke up. “But the lesson is to be about you and your family. Do you expect to learn anything about yourself?” he demanded, and chuckled as if he thought that a great joke.

“It seems to me that some one named Peter learned a great deal about his own family when he first came to school to me,” said Old Mother Nature. Peter had grace enough to hang his head and look ashamed. “Of course you may stay, Paddy. In fact, I want you to. There are some things I shall want you to explain. That is why we are holding school over here this morning. Just come up here on your dam where we can all get a good look at you.”

Paddy the Beaver climbed out on his dam. It was the first time Happy Jack Squirrel ever had seen him out of water, and Happy Jack gave a little gasp of surprise. “I had no idea he is so big!” he exclaimed.

“He is the biggest of all the Rodents in this country, and one of the biggest in all the Great World. Also he is the smartest member of the whole order,” said Old Mother Nature.

“He doesn’t look it,” said Chatterer the Squirrel with a saucy jerk of his tail.

“Which means, I suppose, that you haven’t the least doubt that you are quite as smart as he,” said Old Mother Nature quietly, and Chatterer looked both guilty and a little bit ashamed. “I’ll admit that you are smart, Chatterer, but often it is in a wrong way. Paddy is smart in the very best way. He is a lumberman, builder and engineer. A lot of my little people are workers, but they are destructive workers. The busier they are, the more they destroy. Paddy the Beaver is a constructive worker. That means that he is a builder instead of a destroyer.”

“How about all those trees he cuts down? If that isn’t destroying, I don’t know what is!” said Chatterer, and with each word jerked his tail as if somehow his tongue and tail were connected.

“So it is,” replied Old Mother Nature good-naturedly. “But just think of the number of trees you destroy.”

“I never have destroyed a tree in my life!” declared Chatterer indignantly.

“Yes, you have,” retorted Old Mother Nature.

“I never have!” contradicted Chatterer, quite forgetting to whom he was speaking.

But Old Mother Nature overlooked this. “I don’t suppose you ever ate a chestnut or a fat hickory nut or a sweet beechnut,” said she softly.

“Of course,” retorted Chatterer sharply. “I’ve eaten ever and ever and ever so many of them. What of it?”

In the heart of each one was a little tree, explained Old Mother Nature. “But for you very many of those little trees would have sprung up and some day would have made big trees. So you see for every tree Paddy has destroyed you probably have destroyed a hundred. You eat the nuts that you may live. Paddy cuts down the trees that he may live, for the bark of those trees is his food. Like Prickly Porky he lives chiefly on bark. But, unlike Prickly Porky, he doesn’t destroy a tree for the bark alone. He wastes nothing. He makes use of every bit of that tree. He does something for the Green Forest in return for the trees he takes.”

Chatterer looked at Happy Jack and blinked in a puzzled way. Happy Jack looked at Peter Rabbit and blinked. Peter looked at Jumper the Hare and blinked. Jumper looked at Prickly Porky and blinked. Then all looked at Paddy the Beaver and finally at Old Mother Nature, and all blinked. Old Mother Nature chuckled.

“Don’t you think the Green Forest is more beautiful because of this little pond?” she asked. Everybody nodded. “Of course,” she continued. “But there wouldn’t be any little pond here were it not for Paddy and the trees he has cut. He destroyed the trees in order to make the pond. That is what I meant when I called him a constructive worker. Now I want you all to take a good look at Paddy. Then he will show us just how as a lumberman he cuts trees, as a builder he constructs houses and dams, and as an engineer he digs canals.”

As Paddy sat there on his dam, he looked rather like a giant member of the Rat family, though his head was more like that of a Squirrel than a Rat. His body was very thick and heavy, and in color he was dark brown, lighter underneath than above. Squatting there on the dam his back was rounded. All together, he was a very clumsy-looking fellow.

Peter Rabbit appeared to be interested in just one thing, Paddy’s tail. He couldn’t keep his eyes off it.

Old Mother Nature noticed this. “Well, Peter,” said she, “what have you on your mind now?”

“That tail,” replied Peter. “That’s the queerest tail I’ve ever seen. I should think it would be heavy and dreadfully in the way.”

Old Mother Nature laughed. “If you ask him Paddy will tell you that that tail is the handiest tail in the Green Forest,” said she. “There isn’t another like it in all the Great World, and if you’ll be patient you will see just how handy it is.”

It was a queer-looking tail. It was broad and thick and flat, oval in shape, and covered with scales instead of hair. Just then Jumper the Hare made a discovery. “Why!” he exclaimed, “Paddy has feet like Honker the Goose!”

“Only my hind feet,” said Paddy. “They have webs between the toes just as Honker’s have. That is for swimming. But there are no webs between my fingers.” He held up a hand for all to see. Sure enough, the fingers were free.

“Now that everybody has had a good look at you, Paddy,” said Old Mother Nature, “suppose you swim over to where you have been cutting trees. We will join you there, and then you can show us just how you work.”

Paddy slipped into the water, where for a second or two he floated with just his head above the surface. Then he quickly raised his broad, heavy tail and brought it down on the water with a slap that sounded like the crack of a terrible gun. It was so loud and unexpected that every one save Old Mother Nature and Prickly Porky jumped with fright. Peter Rabbit happened to be right on the edge of the dam and, because he jumped before he had time to think, he jumped right into the water with a splash. Now Peter doesn’t like the water, as you know, and he scrambled out just as fast as ever he could. How the others did laugh at him.

“What did he do that for?” demanded Peter indignantly. “To show you one use he has for that handy tail,” replied Old Mother Nature. “That is the way he gives warning to his friends whenever he discovers danger. Did you notice how he used his tail to aid him in swimming? He turns it almost on edge and uses it as a rudder. Those big, webbed hind feet are the paddles which drive him through the water. He can stay under water a long time — as much as five minutes. See, he has just come up now.”

Sure enough, Paddy’s head had just appeared clear across the pond almost to the opposite shore, and he was now swimming on the surface. Old Mother Nature at once led the way around the pond to a small grove of poplar trees which stood a little way back from the water. Paddy was already there. “Now,” said Old Mother Nature “show us what kind of a lumberman you are.”

Paddy picked out a small tree, sat up much as Happy Jack Squirrel does, but with his big flat tail on the ground to brace him, seized the trunk of the tree in both hands, and went to work with his great orange-colored cutting teeth. He bit out a big chip. Then another and another. Gradually he worked around the tree. After a while the tree began to sway and crack. Paddy bit out two or three more chips, then suddenly slapped the ground with his tail as a warning and scampered back to a safe distance. He was taking no chances of being caught under that falling tree.

The tree fell, and at once Paddy returned to work. The smaller branches he cut off with a single bite at the base of each. The larger ones required a number of bites. Then he set to work to cut the trunk up in short logs. At this point Old Mother Nature interrupted.

“Now show us,” said she, “what you do with the logs.”

Paddy at once got behind a log, and by pushing, rolled it ahead of him until at last it fell with a splash in the water of a ditch or canal which led from near that grove of trees to the pond. Paddy followed into the water and began to push it ahead of him towards the pond.

“That will do,” spoke up Old Mother Nature. “Come out and show us how you take the branches.”

Obediently Paddy climbed out and returned to the fallen tree. There he picked up one of the long branches in his mouth, grasping it near the butt, twisted it over his shoulder and started to drag it to the canal. When he reached the latter he entered the water and began swimming, still dragging the branch in the same way. Once more Old Mother Nature stopped him. “You’ve shown us how you cut trees and move them, so now I want you to answer a few questions,” said she.

Paddy climbed out and squatted on the bank.

“How did this canal happen to be here handy?” asked Old Mother Nature.

“Why, I dug it, of course,” replied Paddy looking surprised. “You see, I’m rather slow and clumsy on land, and don’t like to be far from water. Those trees are pretty well back from the pond, so I dug this canal, which brings the water almost to them. It makes it safer for me in case Old Man Coyote or Buster Bear or Yowler the Bobcat happens to be looking for a Beaver dinner. Also it makes it very much easier to get my logs and branches to the pond.”

Old Mother Nature nodded. “Just so,” said she. “I want the rest of you to notice how well this canal has been dug. At the other end it is carried along the bottom of the pond where the water is shallow so as to give greater depth. Now you will understand why I called Paddy an engineer. What do you do with your logs and branches, Paddy?”

“Put them in my food-pile, out there where the water is deep near my house,” replied Paddy promptly. “The bark I eat, and the bare sticks I use to keep my house and dam in repair. In the late fall I cut enough trees to keep me in food all winter. When my pond is covered with ice I have nothing to worry about; my food supply is below the ice. When I am hungry I swim out under the ice, get a stick, take it back into my house and eat the bark. Then I take the bare stick outside to use when needed on my dam or house.”

“How did you come to make this fine pond?” asked Old Mother Nature.

“Oh, I just happened to come exploring up the Laughing Brook and found there was plenty of food here and a good place for a pond,” replied Paddy. “I thought I would like to live here. Down where my dam is, the Laughing Brook was shallow — just the place for a dam.”

“Tell us why you wanted a pond and how you built that dam,” commanded Old Mother Nature.

“Why, I had to have a pond, if I was to stay here,” replied Paddy, as if every one must understand that. “The Laughing Brook wasn’t deep or big enough for me to live here safely. If it had been, I would have made my home in the bank and not bothered with a house or dam. But it wasn’t, so I had to make a pond. It required a lot of hard work, but it is worth all it cost.

“First, I cut a lot of brush and young trees and placed them in the Laughing Brook in that shallow place, with the butts pointing up-stream. I kept them in place by piling mud and stones on them. Then I kept piling on more sticks and brush and mud. The water brought down leaves and floating stuff, and this caught in the dam and helped fill it in. I dug a lot of mud in front of it and used this to fill in the spaces between the sticks. This made the water deeper in front of the dam and at the same time kept it from getting through. As the water backed up, of course it made a pond. I kept making my dam longer and higher, and the longer and higher it became the bigger the pond grew. When it was big enough and deep enough to suit me, I stopped work on the dam and built my house out there.”

Everybody turned to look at Paddy’s house, the roof of which stood high out of water a little way from the dam. “Tell us how you built that,” said Old Mother Nature quietly.

“Oh, I just made a big platform of sticks and mud out there where it was deep enough for me to be sure that the water could not freeze clear to the bottom, even in the coldest weather,” replied Paddy, in a matter-of-fact tone. “I built it up until it was above water. Then I built the walls and roof of sticks and mud, just as you see them there. Inside I have a fine big room with a comfortable bed of shredded wood. I have two openings in the floor with a long passage leading from each down through the foundations and opening at the bottom of the pond. Of course, these are filled with water. Some houses have only one passage, but I like two. These are the only entrances to my house.

“Every fall I repair my walls and roof, adding sticks and mud and turf, so that now they are very thick. Late in the fall I sometimes plaster the outside with mud. This freezes hard, and no enemy who may reach my house on the ice can tear it open. I guess that’s all.”

Peter Rabbit drew a long breath. “What dreadful lot of work,” said he. “Do you work all the time?”

Paddy chuckled. “No, Peter,” said he. And Old Mother Nature nodded in approval. “Quite right,” said she. “Quite right. Are there any more questions?”

“Do you eat nothing but bark?” It was Happy Jack Squirrel who spoke.

“Oh, no,” replied Paddy. “In summer I eat berries, mushrooms, grass and the leaves and stems of a number of plants. In winter I vary my fare with lily roots and the roots of alder and willow. But bark is my principal food.”

Old Mother Nature waited a few minutes, but as there were no more questions she added a few words. “Now I hope you understand why I am so proud of Paddy the Beaver, and why I told you that he is a lumberman, builder and engineer,” said she. “For the next lesson we will take up the Rat family.”

Chapter XIII.
A Worker and a Robber

“Now we come to the largest family of the Rodent order, the Rat family, which of course includes the Mice,” said Old Mother Nature, after calling school to order at the old meeting-place. “And the largest member of the family reminds me very much of the one we learned about yesterday.”

“I know!” cried Peter Rabbit. “You mean Jerry Muskrat.”

“Go to the head of the class, Peter,” said Old Mother Nature, smiling. “Jerry is the very one, the largest member of the Rat family. Sometimes he is spoken of as a little cousin of Paddy the Beaver. Probably this is because he looks something like a small Beaver, builds a house in the water as Paddy does, and lives in very much the same way. The truth is, he is no more closely related to Paddy than he is to the rest of you. He is a true Rat. He is called Muskrat because he carries with him a scent called musk. It is not an unpleasant scent, like that of Jimmy Skunk, and isn’t used for the same purpose. Jerry uses his to tell his friends where he has been. He leaves a little of it at the places he visits. Some folks call him Musquash, but Muskrat is better.

“Jerry is seldom found far from the water and then only when he is seeking a new home. He is rather slow and awkward on land; but in the water he is quite at home, as all of you know who have visited the Smiling Pool. He can dive and swim under water a long distance, though not as far as Paddy the Beaver.”

“Has he webbed hind feet like Paddy?” piped up Jumper the Hare.

“Yes and no,” replied Old Mother Nature. “They are not fully webbed as Paddy’s are, but there is a little webbing between some of the toes, enough to be of great help in swimming. His tail is of greater use in swimming than is Paddy’s. It is bare and scaly, but instead of being flat top and bottom it is flattened on the sides, and he uses it as a propeller, moving it rapidly from side to side.

“Like Paddy he has a dark brown outer coat, lighter underneath than on his back and sides, and like Paddy he has a very warm soft under coat, through which the water cannot get and which keeps him comfortable, no matter how cold the water is. You have all seen his house in the Smiling Pool. He builds it in much the same way that Paddy builds his, but instead of sticks he cuts and uses rushes. Of course it is not nearly as large as Paddy’s house, because Jerry is himself so much smaller. It is arranged much the same, with a comfortable bedroom and one or more passages down to deep water. In winter Jerry spends much of his time in this house, going out only for food. Then he lives chiefly on lily roots and roots of other water plants, digging them up and taking them back to his house to eat. When the ice is clear you can sometimes see him swimming below.”

“I know,” spoke up Peter Rabbit. “Once I was crossing the Smiling Pool on the ice and saw him right under me.”

“Jerry doesn’t build dams, but he sometimes digs little canals along the bottom where the water isn’t deep enough to suit him,” continued Old Mother Nature. “Sometimes in the winter Jerry and Mrs. Jerry share their home with two or three friends. If there is a good bank Jerry usually has another home in that. He makes the entrance under water and then tunnels back and up for some distance, where he builds a snug little bedroom just below the surface of the ground where it is dry. Usually he has more than one tunnel leading to this, and sometimes an opening from above. This is covered with sticks and grass to hide it, and provides an entrance for fresh air.

“Jerry lives mostly on roots and plants, but is fond of mussels or fresh-water clams, fish, some insects and, I am sorry to say, young birds when he can catch them. Jerry could explain where some of the babies of Mr. And Mrs. Quack the Ducks have disappeared to. Paddy the Beaver doesn’t eat flesh at all.

“Jerry and Mrs. Jerry have several families in a year, and Jerry is a very good father, doing his share in caring for the babies. He and Mrs. Jerry are rather social and enjoy visiting neighbors of their own kind. Their voices are a sort of squeak, and you can often hear them talking among the rushes in the early evening. That is the hour they like best, though they are abroad during the day when undisturbed. Man is their greatest enemy. He hunts and traps them for their warm coats. But they have to watch out for Hooty the Owl at night and for Reddy Fox and Old Man Coyote whenever they are on land. Billy Mink also is an enemy at times, perhaps the most to be dreaded because he can follow Jerry anywhere.

“Jerry makes little landings of mud and rushes along the edge of the shore. On these he delights to sit to eat his meals. He likes apples and vegetables and sometimes will travel quite a distance to get them. Late in the summer he begins to prepare for winter by starting work on his house, if he is to have a new one. He is a good worker. There isn’t a lazy bone in him. All things considered, Jerry is a credit to his family.

“But if Jerry is a credit to his family there is one of its members who is not and that is — who knows?”

“Robber the Brown Rat,” replied Happy Jack Squirrel promptly. “I have often seen him around Farmer Brown’s barn. Ugh! He is an ugly-looking fellow.”

“And he is just as ugly as he looks,” replied Old Mother Nature. “There isn’t a good thing I can say for him, not one. He doesn’t belong in this country at all. He was brought here by man, and now he is found everywhere. He is sometimes called the Norway Rat and sometimes the Wharf Rat and House Rat. He is hated by all animals and by man. He is big, being next in size to Jerry Muskrat, savage in temper, the most destructive of any animal I know, and dirty in his habits. He is an outcast, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“He lives chiefly around the homes of men, and all his food is stolen. That is why he is named Robber. He eats anything he can find and isn’t the least bit particular what it is or whether it be clean or unclean. He gnaws into grain bins and steals the grain. He gets into hen-houses and sucks the eggs and kills young chickens. He would like nothing better than to find a nest of your babies, Peter Rabbit.”

Peter shivered. “I’m glad he sticks to the homes of men,” said he.

“But he doesn’t,” declared Old Mother Nature. “Often in summer he moves out into the fields, digging burrows there and doing great damage to crops and also killing and eating any of the furred and feathered folk he can catch. But he is not fond of the light of day. His deeds are deeds of darkness, and he prefers dark places. He has very large families, sometimes ten or more babies at a time, and several families in a year. That is why his tribe has managed to overrun the Great World and why they cause such great damage. Worse than the harm they do with their teeth is the terrible harm they do to man by carrying dreadful diseases and spreading them — diseases which cause people to die in great numbers.”

“Isn’t Robber afraid of any one?” asked Peter.

“He certainly is,” replied Old Mother Nature. “He is in deadly fear of one whom every one of you fears — Shadow the Weasel. One good thing I can say for Shadow is that he never misses a chance to kill a Rat. Wherever a Rat can go he can go, and once he finds a colony he hunts them until he has killed all or driven them away.

“When food becomes scarce, Robber and his family move on to where it is more plentiful. Often they make long journeys, a great number of them together, and do not hesitate to swim a stream that may be in their path.”

“I’ve never seen Robber,” said Peter. “What kind of a tail does he have?”

“I might have known you would ask that,” laughed Old Mother Nature. “It is long and slim and has no hair on it. His fur is very coarse and harsh and is brown and gray. He has a close relative called the Black Rat. But the latter is smaller and has been largely driven out of the country by his bigger cousin. Now I guess this is enough about Robber. He is bad, all bad, and hasn’t a single friend in all the Great World.”

“What a dreadful thing — not to have a single friend,” said Happy Jack.

“It is dreadful, very dreadful,” replied Old Mother Nature. “But it is wholly his own fault. It shows what happens when one becomes dishonest and bad at heart. The worst of it is Robber doesn’t care. To-morrow I’ll tell you about some of his cousins who are not bad.”

Chapter XIV.
A Trader and a Handsome Fellow

“Way down in the Sunny South,” began Old Mother Nature, “lives a member of the Rat family who, though not nearly so bad as Robber, is none too good and so isn’t thought well of at all. He is Little Robber the Cotton Rat, and though small for a Rat, being only a trifle larger than Striped Chipmunk, looks the little savage that he is. He has short legs and is rather thick-bodied, and appears much like an overgrown Meadow Mouse with a long tail. The latter is not bare like Robber’s, but the hair on it is very short and thin. In color he is yellowish-brown and whitish underneath. His fur is longer and coarser than that of other native Rats.

“He lives in old fields, along ditches and hedges, and in similar places where there is plenty of cover in which he can hide from his enemies. He burrows in the ground and usually has his nest of dry grass there, though often in summer it is the surface of the ground. He does not live in and around the homes of men, like the Brown Rat, but he causes a great deal of damage by stealing grain in the shock. He eats all kinds of grain, many seeds, and meat when he can get it. He is very destructive to eggs and young of ground-nesting birds. He has a bad temper and will fight savagely. Mr. and Mrs. Cotton Rat raise several large families in a year. Foxes, Owls and Hawks are their chief enemies.

“But there are other members of the Rat family far more interesting and quite worth knowing. One of these is Trader the Wood Rat, in some parts of the Far West called the Pack Rat. Among the mountains he is called the Mountain Rat. Wherever found, his habits are much the same and make him one of the most interesting of all the little people who wear fur.

“Next to Jerry Muskrat he is the largest native Rat, that is, of the Rats which belong in this country. He is about two thirds as big as Robber the Brown Rat, but though he is of the same general shape, so that you would know at once that he is related to Robber, he is in all other ways wholly unlike that outcast. His fur is thick and soft, almost as soft as that of a Squirrel. His fairly long tail is covered with hair. Indeed, some members of his branch of the family have tails almost as bushy as a Squirrel’s. His coat is soft gray and a yellowish-brown above, and underneath pure white or light buff. His feet are white. He has rounded ears and big black eyes with none of the ugliness in them that you always see in the eyes of Robber. And he has long whiskers and plenty of them.”

“But why is he called Trader?” asked Rabbit a bit impatiently.

“Patience, Peter, patience. I’m coming to that,” chided Old Mother Nature. “He is Trader because his greatest delight is in trading. He is a born trader if ever there was one. He doesn’t steal as other members of his family but trades. He puts something back in place of whatever he takes. It may be little sticks or chips or pebbles or anything else that is handy but it is something to replace what he has taken. You see, he is very honest. If Trader finds something belonging to some one else that he wants he takes it, but he tries to pay for it.

“Next to trading he delights in collecting. His home is a regular museum. He delights in anything bright and shiny. When he can get into the camps of men he will take anything he can move. But being honest, he tries to leave something in return. All sorts of queer things are found in his home — buckles cut from saddles, spoons, knives, forks, even money he has taken from the pockets of sleeping campers. Whenever any small object is missed from a camp, the first place visited in search of it is the home of Trader. In the mountains he sometimes makes piles of little pebbles just for the fun of collecting them.

“He is found all over the West, from the mountains to the deserts, in thick forests and on sandy wastes. He is also found in parts of the East and in the Sunny South. He is a great climber and is perfectly at home in trees or among rocks. He eats seeds, grain, many kinds of nuts, leaves and other parts of plants. In the colder sections he lays up stores for winter.”