"Nobody but a very lazy person would be willing to have a house like that," Brownie said.
Tired Tim only laughed all the harder.
"Old Grandaddy Beaver has been talking to you," he remarked. "I saw him taking you over to the dam day before yesterday and telling you where to work on it. Of course, that's all right if you're willing to work for the whole village. But I say, let others do the work! As for me, I've never put a single stick nor a single armful of mud on that dam; and what's more, I never intend to, either.
"My tunnel in the bank suits me very well. Of course, it may not be so airy in summer as a house such as you're making for yourself. But I don't live in my house in summer. So what's the difference to me? In summer I go up the stream, or down—just as it suits me—and I see something of the world and have a fine time. There's nothing like travel, you know, to broaden one," said Tired Tim.
Brownie Beaver stopped just a moment and looked at the lazy fellow. He was certainly broad enough, Brownie thought. He was so fat that his sides stuck far out. But it was no wonder—for he never did any work.
"You'd better take my advice," Tired Tim told Brownie.
But Brownie Beaver had returned to his wood-cutting. He didn't even stop to answer. To him, working was just fun. And building a fine house was as good as any game.
IV
THE FRESHET
The rain had fallen steadily for two days and two nights-not just a gentle drizzle, but a heavy downpour.