"Well, nurse, the little beaver lived very happily with this kind gentleman till the next fall, and then it began to get very restless and active, as if it were tired of doing nothing. One day its master heard of the arrival of a friend some miles off so he left the beaver to take care of itself, and went away, but he did not forget to give it some green wood, and plenty of water to drink and play in. He stayed several days, for he was very glad to meet with a friend in that lonely place, but when he came back, he could not open his door, and was obliged to get in at the window. What do you think the beaver had done? It had built a dam against the side of the trough, and a wall across the door, and it had dug up the hearth and the floor, and carried the earth and the stones to help to make its dam, and puddled it with water, and made such work. The house was in perfect confusion, with mud, chips bark, and stone, and oh, nurse, worse than all that, it had gnawed through the legs of the table and chairs, and they were lying on the floor in such a state; and it cost the poor gentleman so much trouble to put things to rights again, and make more chairs and another table! and when I laughed at the pranks of that wicked beaver—for I could not help laughing—the Major pinched my ear, and called me a mischievous puss."
Mrs. Frazer was very much entertained with the story, and she told Lady Mary that she had heard of tame beavers doing such things before; for in the season of the year when beavers congregate together to repair their works and build their winter houses, those that are in confinement become restless and unquiet, and show the instinct that moves these animals to provide their winter retreats, and lay up their stores of food.
"Nurse," said Lady Mary, "I did not think that beavers and racoons could be taught to eat sweet cake, and bread, and meat."
"Many animals learn to eat very different food to what they are accustomed to live upon in a wild state. The wild cat lives on raw flesh; while the domestic cat, you know, my dear, will eat cooked meat, and even salt meat, with bread and milk and many other things. I knew a person who had a black kitten called 'Wildfire,' which would sip whisky toddy out of his glass, and seemed to like it as well as milk or water, only it made him too wild and frisky."
"Nurse, the racoon that the gentleman had would drink sweet whisky punch; but my governess said it was not right to give it to him; and Major Pickford laughed, and declared the racoon must have looked very funny when he was tipsy. Was not the Major naughty to say so?"
Mrs. Frazer said it was not quite proper.
"The racoon, Lady Mary, in its natural state, has all the wildness and cunning of the fox and weasel. He will eat flesh, poultry, and sucking pigs, and is also very destructive to Indian corn. These creatures abound in the Western States, and are killed in great numbers for their skins. The Indian hunters eat the flesh, and say it is very tender and good; but it is not used for food in Canada. The racoon belongs to the same class of animals as the bear, which it resembles in some points, though; being small, it is not so dangerous either to man or the larger animals.
"And now, my dear, let me show you some pretty wild-flowers a little girl brought me this morning for you, as she heard that you loved flowers. There are yellow-mocassins, or ladies'-slippers, the same that I told you of a little while ago; and white lilies, crane-bills, and these pretty lilac geraniums; here are scarlet cups, and blue lupines—they are all in bloom now—and many others. If we were on the Rice Lake Plains, my lady, we could gather all these, and many, many more. In the months of June and July those plains are like a garden, and their roses scent the air."
"Nurse, I will ask my dear papa to take me to the Rice Lake Plains," said the little girl, as she gazed with delight on the lovely Canadian flowers.