After the departure of their children the squirrels felt, as you may suppose, rather dull and lonely at first, but they very wisely made use of a remedy for low spirits, which I would strongly recommend to you, whenever you find yourself melancholy or uncomfortable in your mind from any cause. And particularly when you are so, without any apparent cause; for we sometimes see people very dismal and melancholy, when they have every good thing they can wish, and ought to be cheerful and happy. This wonderful and never failing remedy for low spirits is employment! Try it, my dear melancholy young reader, and whether you have a good reason for your sadness or not, you will at least have met with something worth remembering in this history.

Our squirrels, then, instead of sitting moping side by side on a bough, and grumbling out to each other, “What miserable creatures we are!” instead of thus giving way to their melancholy thoughts, they immediately began to make use of the remedy I have mentioned. The first thing they did was carefully to examine the nest, to see what repairs it stood in need of. It would at any rate require a fresh lining of moss and leaves; so all the old bedding, which I must confess was rather dusty and untidy, was taken off, and kicked out of the hole, together with a quantity of nut-shells and other rubbish, which had been collecting there for some months. When this work was finished, it was found that the under part, or groundwork of the nest, which consisted of small twigs and fibres curiously interlaced, was very rotten, and required to be almost entirely renewed. So there was plenty of work to do, and very diligently the squirrels laboured to complete it. Not that they worked like slaves, from morning till night. Oh no! they allowed themselves abundance of time for feasting and fun, for they were such merry, light-hearted creatures, that they could not live without a good game of play now and then. They even mixed play with their work; for when they had to go to a little distance for some particularly fine soft moss, or other materials for nest-building, they were sure to have a race, to try which of them could reach the place first. So the days passed by right merrily.

“It is very odd,” said Brush, one evening, just before he rolled himself up for the night in the warm blanket I have before mentioned; “It is very odd that we should have lived almost all our lives so near that family of water-rats, in the bank of the pond, and have known so little about them. I always thought them a savage, bloodthirsty, set of fellows, and that they would make no scruple of killing fish, or young birds, or mice, or any other small animal that they could master. But what do you think Gotobed told me just now, as I came up the tree? Why, he says, that it is all a mistake, and that he is certain that these water-rats are a very decent, quiet sort of people, feeding on vegetables, like ourselves. He says, that as he was creeping about just now among the grass, close to the edge of the pond, but a long way from the water-rats’ holes, which are all on the opposite side, he suddenly found himself quite close to one of these creatures, who was perched up on a flat stone, and busily gnawing the root of some plant. Our poor little cousin, you know, has not much presence of mind, so in his fright, and terrible hurry to escape from the monster, he slipped off the bank, and rolled into the water. The splash he made frightened the rat, who plumped into the water too, and so there they were both swimming close together. Gotobed expected to be eaten up in a minute, but the rat only said to him, ’Ha! ha! little fellow, is it only you? Not much used to swimming I see! But come down some fine evening, and I’ll teach you. The water is too cold just now for such as you.’

“Gotobed was too much frightened to say a word, so he scrambled up the bank, and ran home to his nest as fast as possible. Poor little thing! he looked so miserable, with his beautiful fur dripping wet, and sticking close to his body.”

“What a ridiculous story,” said Mrs. Brush, who could hardly keep herself awake till it was finished; “Why I have heard Gotobed say, that his mother used to tell a story about a relation of hers, who lived a good way off, who was killed and eaten up in a moment, by one of these very water-rats. I have even heard it said, that the males will often kill and eat the young ones, if their mothers are not careful to hide them. Depend upon it, they are a horrid set, and I often wish they did not live quite so near us.”

“Well,” said Brush, gaping, “I’ll try to find out something more about them to-morrow; but I declare I can’t keep awake any longer just now.”

So the next afternoon, our squirrel, who had some courage, and a great deal of curiosity, determined, if possible, to learn something about the character of these water-rats, one of whom, by a kind word spoken to little Gotobed, had so altered his opinion of their disposition and manner of living.

Brush chose the afternoon for his visit, because he had observed that these animals came out of their holes more at that time than in the middle of the day. But our inquisitive friend did not allow his curiosity to lead him into any danger, in this inquiry into the proceedings of his neighbours. He therefore crept through the high grass to the other side of the pond, and very quietly climbed up into a low willow-tree, overhanging the bank, in which the water-rats had made their habitations. Here, concealed among the leaves, he had a full view of all that passed below.

Close to the steep bank, in which these animals had bored many round holes, was a small flat space of fine pebbles and sand, sloping down into the water on one side, and on the other, bordered by a thick bed of the sweet-smelling water-mint, with here and there a stem of the plant called horsetail, towering up like a gigantic palm-tree in the midst of a forest. On this pleasant little pebbly beach, Brush perceived several water-rats, both old and young; and some very grave looking faces were peeping out of their holes in the bank, watching the proceedings of their companions below.

One of those on the beach had his attention entirely engaged by the root of some plant, which he was nibbling; another was busily cleaning his fur with his fore-paws; and two very young ones were paddling about in the shallow water, into which their mother, as Brush supposed, had taken them, for the first time in their lives, to give them a lesson in swimming. Sometimes one of the grave looking gentlemen in the bank, either for amusement, or in search of food, would leap, or rather tumble, from the mouth of his hole, into the water, and dive at once to the bottom, with the greatest ease imaginable; but he could not remain under much more than a minute at a time, for want of breath. When he came up again to the surface, Brush was exceedingly surprised to see that, instead of appearing wet and miserable, like poor little Gotobed after his ducking, his hair was as dry as if he had never been into the water at all.

“How delightful it must be to dive and swim about like that!” said the squirrel to himself, and he could hardly help jumping in to try his skill, forgetting that he was not formed for moving through the water, but for running and leaping about among the branches of trees. I wonder how he would have managed his bushy tail in swimming, and how funny it would have looked with the long hair all wet and sticking together! Perhaps he thought of this himself. At any rate, he did not jump into the water just then, but remained looking down from his hiding-place in the willow-tree, very much pleased with what he had hitherto seen of these clever divers and swimmers.

“Well,” said he to himself, “they don’t eat their own young ones, that is clear enough; but how they might treat any other small animal that came in their way I cannot possibly tell. And yet the great old rat that frightened poor Gotobed so terribly, behaved very well, I am sure; but then perhaps he was not hungry just then, and only asked him to come again and be taught to swim that he might make a meal of him another time. So I won’t have anything to say to them just yet. Perhaps if I wait here a little longer, I may see something that will decide the matter.”

And the matter was decided, sooner than Brush expected. At a little distance from the water-rats’ station, he now perceived a most singular looking animal, which was quite a stranger to him, though he had a pretty large acquaintance among his neighbours. It was about the size of a common mouse, but of a deep velvety black above, and white underneath, and its nose was very long and pointed, like the snout of a pig. His eyes were very small indeed, and looked like little black beads deeply set in his head.

This curious, but beautiful little animal behaved exactly like a person who knows that he has a great deal of work to get through in a very short time. I mean, that he was very diligent and active, and seemed determined not to lose a moment by stopping to rest himself, or to consider what he should do next. He appeared to be an excellent swimmer and diver, thrusting his long nose under the leaves at the bottom of the water, in search of insects I suppose, and when he came to the surface again, his fur was quite dry, like that of the water-rats. So when he dived, this water-repelling property in his fur made him appear of a beautiful silvery white colour, from the number of small air bubbles he carried down with him. He was never still for a moment, either diving to the bottom, or swimming, with a very quick wriggling motion on the surface, and every now and then he would come to the shore, from which he seldom ventured very far.

“A very queer little fellow indeed, upon my word!” said Brush, “I wonder who he is. I cannot help liking him though, for he seems so clever and industrious. Oh dear me! how I wish I could dive in that beautiful clear water! But I declare he is coming nearer and nearer every minute to that old rat, who is so busy gnawing his root. Now, when the little one passes him, we shall see what will happen. I am sure the old rat must be terribly hungry, or he would not gnaw that disagreeable looking root so eagerly, and if he does not pounce upon the little black fellow, and tear him to pieces, I shall be very much astonished indeed.”

The squirrel was not long kept in suspense, for just as he had finished talking the matter over to himself, the little velvet-coated swimmer, intent upon his own important business, came paddling along very near the shore, and at last landed quite close to the spot where the rat was still engaged with his root. But when he perceived the visitor, he immediately left off eating, and slowly turned his head towards him!

“Horrible! he’ll have him now! ’Tis all over with him,” said Brush, quite trembling with eagerness to see the end of the affair. “’Tis all over with the little black fellow, and these rats are rascals after all!”

But he was very much mistaken, for the only animal that lost its life upon the occasion, was a small insect, which the bead-like eyes of little velvet-coat had perceived crawling upon a stone, near the water’s edge, and in his eagerness to secure this valuable prize, I suppose he did not observe that such a large fierce-looking creature was close by, or perhaps he had found from experience that there was nothing to fear from him. However, the little fellow boldly seized his prey, and darted off with it into the water, while the quiet old gentleman went on munching his root again.

Now when Brush witnessed this peaceable meeting of the two animals, proving that water-rats were not the cruel, savage tempered creatures, they are generally supposed to be, he was so delighted, that he quite forgot that he had intended to have been a concealed spectator of their proceedings. So he called out as loud as he could,

“Capital, I declare! ’Tis all a lie from beginning to end. Little Gotobed was right after all. They are a very decent, quiet set, as he said.”

But this expression of his sentiments quite interrupted the peaceable employments of the company below, for the loud strange voice nearly over their heads frightened them so, that they all either dived under water, or retreated into their holes. However, the squirrel had now satisfied his curiosity, and as he was rather frightened himself at the disturbance he had made, he hastily leaped down from his hiding-place, and scampered home to his nest. As for little velvet-coat, I never heard what became of him, but no doubt he found a place to hide himself in. But I believe I have never told you who he was. He was a water-shrewmouse, and very much like the common shrewmouse that we often find lying dead in lanes and pathways. But he was larger than the common shrewmouse, and altogether a much handsomer animal.