LikethedamthatheldbackthewatertoformthepondwhereBrownieBeaverlived,Brownie’shousewasmadeofsticksandmud. Hecutthestickshimself,fromtreesthatgrewnearthebankofthepond;andafterdraggingandpushingthemtothewater’sedgeheswamwiththem,withoutmuchtrouble,tothecenterofthepond,wherehewishedtobuildhishouse. Ofcourse,thesticksfloatedinthewater;soBrowniefoundthatpartofhisworktobequiteeasy. Hehadchosenthatspotinthecenterofthepondbecausetherewassomethingagooddeallikeanislandthere—onlyitdidnotrisequiteoutofthewater. Agood,firmplaceonwhichtosethishouse—BrownieBeaverconsideredit. WhilehewasbuildinghishouseBrowniegatheredhiswinter’sfoodatthesametime. Anyonemightthinkhewouldhavefounditdifficulttodotwothingsatoncelikethat. Butwhilehewascuttingstickstobuildhisnewhouseitwasnogreattroubletopeelthebarkoffthem. Thebark,youknow,waswhatBrownieBeaveralwaysate. Andwhenhecutsticksforhishousetherewasonlyonethingaboutwhichhehadtobecareful;hehadtobeparticulartouseonlycertainkindsofwood. Poplar,cottonwood,orwillow;birch,elm,boxelderoraspen—thosewerethetreeswhichborebarkthatheliked. Butifhehadcutdownahickoryoranashoranoaktreehewouldn’thavebeenabletogetanyfoodfromthematallbecausethebarkwasnotthesorthecaredfor. Thatwaslucky,inaway,becausethewoodofthosetreeswasveryhardandBrowniewouldhavehadmuchmoreworkcuttingthemdown. AgoodmanyofBrownieBeaver’sneighborsthoughthewasfoolishtogotothetroubleofbuildinganewhouse,whentherewereoldonestobehad. AndtherewasalazyfellowcalledTiredTimwholaughedopenlyatBrownie. “Whenyou’reolderyou’llknowbetterthantoworklikethat,”TiredTimtoldhim.“Whydon’tyoudothewayIdid?”heasked. “Idugatunnelinthebankofthepond;andit’sagoodenoughhouseforanybody. It’smucheasierthanbuildingahouseofsticksandmud.” ButBrownietoldTiredTimthathedidn’tcaretoliveinaholeinthebank. “Nobodybutaverylazypersonwouldbewillingtohaveahouselikethat,”Browniesaid. TiredTimonlylaughedalltheharder. “OldGrandaddyBeaverhasbeentalkingtoyou,”heremarked. “Isawhimtakingyouovertothedamdaybeforeyesterdayandtellingyouwheretoworkonit. Ofcourse,that’sallrightifyou’rewillingtoworkforthewholevillage.ButIsay,letothersdothework! Asforme,I’veneverputasinglesticknorasinglearmfulofmudonthatdam;andwhat’smore,Ineverintendto,either. “Mytunnelinthebanksuitsmeverywell. Ofcourse,itmaynotbesoairyinsummerasahousesuchasyou’remakingforyourself.ButIdon’tliveinmyhouseinsummer.Sowhat’sthedifferencetome? InsummerIgoupthestream,ordown—justasitsuitsme—andIseesomethingoftheworldandhaveafinetime. There’snothingliketravel,youknow,tobroadenone,”saidTiredTim. BrownieBeaverstoppedjustamomentandlookedatthelazyfellow. Hewascertainlybroadenough,Browniethought. Hewassofatthathissidesstuckfarout. Butitwasnowonder—forheneverdidanywork. “You’dbettertakemyadvice,”TiredTimtoldBrownie. ButBrownieBeaverhadreturnedtohiswood-cutting.Hedidn’tevenstoptoanswer.Tohim,workingwasjustfun.Andbuildingafinehousewasasgoodasanygame. 
