IX A NATURAL NEW ENGLAND ER 265 



If they want to get rid of work, why in the world 

 don't they stop working ? Look at Hiram Coffin 

 over there. When I was a little cub he lived in 

 a log-cabin. I never could get up early enough to 

 be ahead of him in the fields, and couldn't keep 

 my eyes open late enough to see him go in. Still 

 he sang and whistled (almost as good as a wood- 

 chuck, sometimes), and now and then went on a 

 spree, so that I concluded he was as happy as he 

 knew how to be. Next year he put up an addition 

 to his cabin and then had to work so hard to pay 

 for it that he had no time to sing at all. Now " 

 pointing a black-gloved paw across the valley 

 "behold that big brick mansion he's building; 

 and look at him ! He's bent and stiff and thin. 

 Thin ? why, he wouldn't last through the winter 

 in the best burrow on the hill ! He has to wear 

 tight boots and a close collar, and worries from 

 morning till night for fear the bank will break, 

 or bugs will get into his wheat, or his winter fires 

 burn up his new house. 



" Now look at me ! In my first year I nearly 

 wore myself out digging a long tunnel : some were 

 good enough to say it was the finest burrow in the 

 valley. Next year I cleaned out a hole left by 

 a fool 'chuck that wanted to 'see the world,' and 

 got nabbed by a dog and served him right! 

 Last year I wasted a beautiful day in enlarging 

 a cave under a stump. This fall I have my eye 

 on a hollow log, and my wife and I will stuff it with 



