"It is very odd," said Brush, one evening, just before he rolled himself up for the night in the warm _blanket_ I have before mentioned; "It is very odd that we should have lived almost all our lives so near that family of water-rats, in the bank of the pond, and have known so little about them. I always thought them a savage, bloodthirsty, set of fellows, and that they would make no scruple of killing fish, or young birds, or mice, or any other small animal that they could master. But what do you think Gotobed told me just now, as I came up the tree? Why, he says, that it is all a mistake, and that he is certain that these water-rats are a very decent, quiet sort of people, feeding on vegetables, like ourselves. He says, that as he was creeping about just now among the grass, close to the edge of the pond, but a long way from the water-rats' holes, which are all on the opposite side, he suddenly found himself quite close to one of these creatures, who was perched up on a flat stone, and busily gnawing the root of some plant. Our poor little cousin, you know, has not much presence of mind, so in his fright, and terrible hurry to escape from the monster, he slipped off the bank, and rolled into the water. The splash he made frightened the rat, who plumped into the water too, and so there they were both swimming close together. Gotobed expected to be eaten up in a minute, but the rat only said to him, 'Ha! ha! little fellow, is it only you? Not much used to swimming I see! But come down some fine evening, and I'll teach you. The water is too cold just now for such as you.' "Gotobed was too much frightened to say a word, so he scrambled up the bank, and ran home to his nest as fast as possible. Poor little thing! he looked so miserable, with his beautiful fur dripping wet, and sticking close to his body." "What a ridiculous story," said Mrs. Brush, who could hardly keep herself awake till it was finished; "Why I have heard Gotobed say, that his mother used to tell a story about a relation of hers, who lived a good way off, who was killed and eaten up in a moment, by one of these very water-rats. I have even heard it said, that the males will often kill and eat the young ones, if their mothers are not careful to hide them. Depend upon it, they are a horrid set, and I often wish they did not live quite so near us." "Well," said Brush, gaping, "I'll try to find out something more about them to-morrow; but I declare I can't keep awake any longer just now." So the next afternoon, our squirrel, who had some courage, and a great deal of curiosity, determined, if possible, to learn something about the character of these water-rats, one of whom, by a kind word spoken to little Gotobed, had so altered his opinion of their disposition and manner of living.