shes. When the fall of 1879 came, the
muskrats were very tardy about beginning their house, laying the
corner-stone--or the corner-sod-about December 1st, and continuing the
work slowly and indifferently. On the 15th of the month the nest was not
yet finished. This, I said, indicates a mild winter; and, sure enough,
the season was one of the mildest known for many years. The rats had
little use for their house.

Again, in the fall of 1880, while the weather-wise were wagging their
heads, some forecasting a mild, some a severe winter, I watched with
interest for a sign from my muskrats. About November 1st, a month
earlier than the previous year, they began their nest, and worked at it
with a will. They appeared to have just got tidings of what was coming.
If I had taken the hint so palpably given, my celery would not have been
frozen in the ground, and my apples caught in unprotected places.
When the cold wave struck us, about November 20th, my four-legged
"I-told-you-so's" had nearly completed their dwelling; it lacked only
the ridge-board, so to speak; it needed a little "topping out," to give
it a finished look. But this it never got. The winter had come to stay,
and it waxed more and more severe, till the unprecedented cold of the
last days of December must have astonished even the wise muskrats in
their snug retreat. I approached their nest at this time, a white mound
upon the white, deeply frozen surface of the pond, and wondered if
there was any life in that apparent sepulchre. I thrust my walking-stick
sharply into it, when there was a rustle and a splash into the water,
as the occupant made his escape. What a damp basement that house has, I
thought, and what a pity to rout out a peaceful neighbor out of his bed
in this weather and into such a state of things as this! But water does
not wet the muskrat; his fur is charmed, and not a drop penetrates
it. Where the ground is favorable, the muskrats do not build these
mound-like nests, but burrow into the bank a long distance, and
establish their winter-quarters there.

Shall we not say, then, in view of the above facts, that this little
creature is weather-wise? The hitting of the mark twice might be
mere good luck; but three bull's-eyes in succession is not a mere
coincidence; it is a proof of skill. The muskrat is not found in the Old
World, which is a little singular, as other rats so abound there, and
as those slow-going English streams especially, with their g