id="Page_25" class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[25]"/>handsome one was offered, at so cheap a rate that he suspected the soundness of the animal, but being able to discover no blemish, he became the purchaser.

"Next morning, he set out on his journey, the horse had excellent paces, and our traveller, while riding over the few first miles, where the road was well frequented, did not fail to congratulate himself on his good fortune, which had led him to make so advantageous a bargain.

"They arrived at last at Finchley Common, and at a place where the road ran down a slight eminence, and up another, the lawyer met a clergyman driving a one-horse chaise. There was nobody within sight, and the horse by his conduct instantly discovered the profession of his former owner. Instead of pursuing his journey, he ran close up to the chaise and stopt it, having no doubt but his rider would embrace so fair an opportunity of exercising his calling. The clergyman seemed of the same opinion, produced his purse unasked, and assured the astonished lawyer that it was quite unnecessary to draw his pistol, as he did not intend to offer any resistance. The traveller rallied his horse, and with many apologies to the gentleman he had so innocently and unwillingly affrighted, pursued his journey.

"They had not proceeded far when the horse again made the same suspicious approach to a coach, from the window of which a blunderbuss was levelled, with denunciations of death and destruction to the hapless and perplexed rider. In short, after his life had been once or twice endangered by the suspicions to which the conduct of his horse gave rise, and his liberty as often threatened by the peace-officers, who were disposed to apprehend him as a notorious highwayman, the former owner of the horse, he was obliged to part with the inauspicious animal for a trifle, and to purchase one less beautiful, but not accustomed to such dangerous habits."

"Capital, Uncle Thomas! I should have liked to have seen the perplexed look of the poor lawyer, when he saw the blunderbuss make its appearance at the carriage window!"

"There is one other story about the horse, showing his love for his master, and the gentleness of his character. A horse which was remarkable for its antipathy to strangers, one evening, while bearing his master home from a jovial meeting, became disburthened of his rider, who, having indulged rather freely, soon went to sleep on the ground. The horse, however, did not scamper off, but kept faithful watch by his prostrate master till the morning, when the two were perceived about sunrise by some labourers. They approached the gentleman, with the intention of replacing him on his saddle, but every attempt on their part was resolutely opposed by the grinning teeth and ready heels of the horse, which would neither allow them to touch his master, nor suffer himself to be seized till the gentleman himself awoke from his sleep. The same horse, among other bad propensities, constantly resented the attempts of the groom to trim its fetlocks. This circumstance happened to be mentioned by its owner in conversation, in the presence of his youngest child, a very few years old, when he defied any man to perform the operation singly. The father next day, in passing through the stable-yard, beheld with the utmost distress, the infant employed with a pair of scissors in clipping the fetlocks of the hind-legs of this vicious hunter—an operation which had been always hitherto performed with great danger even by a number of men. Instead, however, of exhibiting his usual vicious disposition, the horse, in the present case, was looking with the greatest complacency on the little groom, who soon after, to the very great relief of his father, walked off unhurt."

CHAPTER II.

"Good evening, Boys! I am going to tell you about a very singular animal to-night—singular both in its conformation and its habits. I allude to the Beaver."

"Oh, we shall be so glad to hear about the Beaver, Uncle Thomas. I have sometimes wondered what sort of an animal it is. It is of its skin that hats are made—is it not?"

"It is so, Harry—at least it is of the fur with which its skin is covered. I must tell you about the manufacture of hats at some other time. Our business at present is with the Beaver itself. I think we shall get on better by confining our attention to the animal now, and examine into its habits and instincts."

"Very well, Uncle Thomas, we are all attention."

"The Beaver, which is now only to be found in the more inaccessible parts of America, and the more northern countries of Europe, affords a curious instance of what may be called a compound structure. It has the fore-feet of a land animal, and the hind ones of an aquatic one—the latter only being webbed. Its tail is covered with scales like a fish, and serves to direct its course in the water, in which it spends much of its time.

"On the rivers where they abound, they form societies sometimes consisting of upwards of two hundred. They begin to assemble about the months of June and July, and generally choose for the place of their future habitation the side of some lake or river. If a lake, in which the water is always pretty nearly of a uniform level, they dispense with building a dam, but if the place they fix upon be the banks of a river, they immediately set about constructing a pier or dam, to confine the water, so that they may always have a good supply."

"That is an instance of very singular sagacity Uncle Thomas. I suppose it is their instinct which teaches them to act in this manner."

"You are right, Frank. Well, the mode in which they set about constructing the dam is this: having fixed upon the spot, they go into the neighbouring forest, and cut quantities of the smaller branches of trees, which they forthwith convey to the place selected, and having fixed them in the earth, interweave them strongly and closely, filling up all the crevices with mud and stones, so as soon to make a most compact construction."

"That must be a work of very great labour, Uncle Thomas."

"The labour is very considerable, Boys; but the power which, for want of a better name, we call Instinct, comes wonderfully to their aid. For instance, it has been observed that they seek all the branches which they want on the banks of the river, higher up than their construction, so that having once got them conveyed to the water, they are easily floated to it."

"Very good, Uncle Thomas."

"When the beavers have finished the dam, they then proceed to construct a house for themselves. First they dig a foundation of greater or less capacity, in proportion to the number of their society. They then form the walls of earth and stones, mixed with billets of wood crossing each other, and thus tying the fabric together just in the same way as you sometimes see masons do in building human dwellings. Their huts are generally of a circular form, something like the figure of a haycock, and they have usually several entrances—one or more opening