"Why, Uncle Philip, we think that he is no swimmer."
"Very true, boys: so his feet, then, you now think, were made for spades, and not for paddles?"
"We do. Can you tell us any thing more about this animal, Uncle Philip?"
"Oh yes. The burrows or holes of the marmot run a great distance under ground, and end in several chambers or rooms, according to the number that is to live in them. They make beds in them of dry leaves, or grass, or any thing soft and dry which they can find. They cram their mouths full of it to carry, when they are making their nests. As soon as cold weather begins, the animal goes into his house, and stops up the hole on the inside; and there he stays till the warm weather has come again.
"He is quite a thief at times. I saw one once which a gentleman had tamed, and he played about the yard; but every thing that he could get hold of which was fit to make his bed of, he was sure to steal, and carry into his hole under ground. When clothes were hung out to dry he would take them off the line, and as soon as any were missed the washerwoman knew very well where they were. She kept a long stick with a hook at the end of it, and with this she drew them out of the burrow. He soon found out what it meant, and whenever she used the stick, it was necessary first to tie him up; for he did not choose to have his bed spoiled, and would run to the hole and try to get in, and prevent the clothes from being drawn out. One day he stole eight pairs of stockings, a towel, and a little girl's frock; and he carried them into his burrow as far as six feet from the entrance.
"But, boys, as we have begun this morning upon the old subject of tools among animals. I will tell you of something which, though not exactly a tool, is a very useful instrument, and is found belonging to a very common creature. Did you ever take notice of a bat?"
"Oh yes, Uncle Philip, often, as they were flying about in a room at night, but not nearer."
"Then you never saw what I mean, I expect. Our common bat, boys, has two very excellent hooks; one on each of what you call its wings: I say what you call its wings, because the bat is not really a bird, but a quadruped; that is, an animal with four feet: and when it is on the ground, any one may see that it is a four-footed animal. If a monkey's paw should be flattened out very much, it would be something like a bat's paw or hand. The long finger-bones are just like the sticks of an umbrella; there is a thin skin between them, and they stretch it out, so that the air underneath will keep them up. When they are on the ground all this is folded up. Their hinder feet have five toes, all small, and ending in sharp claws. On the fore-feet there is but one finger which the bat can use much, because the others are like umbrella-sticks, as I told you; and the end of that one is a hook. Here is a picture, in which you can see it plainly.
