198 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



tranquil soul. Writers may have slighted him, school- 

 boys may have pelted him, poets left his name unsung, 

 and the uncouth boor may have sought to deride him by 

 naming him Musquash, and other opprobrious titles ; but 

 this is not the first time in the annals of the world a 

 similar fate has overtaken modest worth. Pass by their 

 crude opinions, and let us visit my mentor friend. 

 '" Down by many a softly-purling brook, whose sinuosi- 

 ties have unearthed the gnarled roots of oaks and 

 hickories, and where the school-boy hastes from tasks to 

 find a shady nooning, the Muskrat builds his nest. His 

 selection of a home shows his cultivated taste, and gives 

 a lesson to the more unobservant rustic. By the cloudy 

 water that lies in the canals, that lead beneath the oaks, 

 you may know his retreat. There he rests, while the 

 day is warm, in the quiet enjoyment of his domestic 

 pleasures, safe from pursuit in the winding galleries of 

 his earthen fortress, but, 



" When the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame, 

 And a' the world to sleep are gane," 



when the moonshine falls on bridge and reeds, and 

 twinkling stars are floating on the water, then this gentle 

 friend comes forth to view. You see him, with his keen 

 eye and grave countenance, draw himself upon a root, 

 and with careful fingers arrange his dress and wash his 

 face. By his side sits a little picture of his sire a tiny 

 counterpart, that is destined one day to take his place 

 among the reeds and by the bridge, and rear the mimic 



