Nimble Deer had stopped at Brownie Beaver¹'s pond to get a drink. Just as he raised his head from the water he spied Brownie a little way off, on the bank, gnawing² at a box alder³ tree.  
"Good evening!" Nimble called to him.
 
"Good evening!" Brownie Beaver answered.
 
"I see you're busy, as usual," Nimble remarked.
 
"Yes!" Brownie replied. "And what are you doing—if I may ask?"
 
"Oh! I'm just rambling⁴ about," Nimble explained.
 
"Then you're not doing much of anything," said Brownie Beaver.
 
Nimble admitted that he wasn't.
 
"Since you're not working, perhaps you'll be willing to help me," Brownie suggested.
 
"Certainly!" Nimble cried. He liked Brownie Beaver. Everybody liked him—unless it was Timothy Turtle, who had a grudge⁵ against the whole Beaver tribe.
 
"Maybe I can make arrangements with you to——" Brownie began.
 
"Of course you can!" Nimble interrupted.
 
"That's very kind of you," Brownie said. "I'm sure I'm much obliged to you."
 
"You're quite welcome," Nimble assured him.
 
"You're sure you won't mind!" Brownie Beaver inquired.
 
"Not at all! No, indeed! What is it you want me to do for you? Do you want me to help you roll a log into the water, when you've finished cutting down that tree? I might use my horns for a cant⁶ hook, such as the lumbermen have."
 
"No! It's not that—thank you!" Brownie Beaver mumbled⁷. He had not stopped working, while he talked. And having some chips in his mouth he did not speak any too clearly.
 
"Maybe you'd like me to walk back and forth⁸ along the top of your dam and make it firmer," Nimble suggested.
 
"No, it's not that," Brownie............