But no one except Grandaddy Beaver had ever heard
of a freshet at that time of year. So even then
nobody else went to work on his house, though some
people did stop smiling. A freshet, you
know, is a serious thing.
As the second day passed, the rain seemed to fall
harder. And still Grandaddy Beaver kept putting
new sticks on the roof of his house and plastering
mud over them. And at last Brownie Beaver began
to think that perhaps the old gentleman was right,
after all, and that maybe everybody else was wrong.
So Brownie went home and set to work. And all
his neighbors at once began to smile at him.
But Brownie Beaver didn’t mind that.
“My roof needed mending, anyhow,” he said.
“And if we should have a freshet.
I’ll be ready for it. And if we don’t
have one, there’ll be no harm done.”
[Illustration: Mr. Crow Called Down the Chimney]
Now, all this time the water had been rising slowly.
But that was no more than everyone expected, since
it was raining so hard. But when the second night
came, the water began to rise very fast. It rose
so quickly that several families found their bedroom
floors under water almost before they knew it.
Then old Grandaddy Beaver went through the village
and stopped at every door.
“What do you think about it now?” he asked.
“Is it a freshet or isn’t it?”
In the houses where the water had climbed above the
bedroom floors the people all agreed that it was a
freshet and that Grandaddy Beaver had been right all
the time. But there were still plenty of people
who thought the old gentleman was mistaken.
“The water won’t come any higher,”
they said. “It never has, at this time
of year.” But they looked a bit worried,
in spite of what they said.
“It’s a-going to be the worst freshet
that’s happened since you were born,”
their caller croaked. “You mark my words!”
When he came to Brownie Beaver’s house Grandaddy
found that there was one person, at least, that had
taken his advice.
“I see you’re all ready for the freshet!”
the old gentleman remarked. “They laughed
at me; but I was right,” he said.
“They laughed at me, too,” Brownie Beaver
told him.
“There’s nobody in this village that’ll
laugh again tonight,” Grandaddy said very solemnly,
“for there’s a-going to be a flood before
morning.”
BROWNIE SAVES THE DAM
Brownie Beaver was always glad that he had taken Grandaddy’s
advice about the freshet. And Brownie’s
neighbors were glad that he had, too. For that
was really the only thing that saved the village from
being carried away by the flood of water that swept
down upon the pond, after it had rained for two days
and two nights.
The pond rose so quickly and the water rushed past
so fast that people had to scramble out of their houses
and begin working on them, to keep them from being
washed away.
