THE LILY COVE 
T HE pond lilies would not bloom for 
some weeks. But their leaves, dark 
green with splashes of purple and 
brown, were thick in the little cove at the far 
side of Patou Pond. Thither then, went Father 
Beaver, Mother Beaver, and all three of their 
little ones, to find on their arrival that the 
whole colony had taken the same notion. Over 
twenty beavers were there that evening. 
Such an occurrence would not have been in 
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