He was very busy making a bed. He is very particular about his
bed, is Paddy the Beaver. He makes it of fine splinters of wood which he
splits off with those wonderful great cutting teeth of his. This makes
the driest kind of a bed. It requires a great deal of patience and work,
but patience is one of the first things a little Beaver learns, and
honest work well done is one of the greatest pleasures in the world, as
Paddy long ago found out for himself. So he kept at work on his bed for
some time after all was still outside.
At last Paddy decided that he would go over to his aspen-trees and look
them over to decide which ones he would cut the next night. He slid down
one of his long halls, out the doorway at the bottom of the pond, and
then swam up to the surface, where he floated for a few minutes with
just his head out of water. And all the time his eyes and nose and ears
were busy looking, smelling, and listening for any sign of danger.
Everything was still. Sure that he was quite safe, Paddy swam across to
the place where the aspen-trees grew, and waddled out on the shore.
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