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Rodger the beaver | ||
Rodger the beaver was chopping a tree. He was as happy as beavers could be. But when he cut it, it fell near his head. He was quite lucky that he wasn't dead. Next time, he said, I'll be careful to see Where it will topple when I cut a tree. Rodger the beaver collected his trees, Stacking them neatly by careful degrees. Soon he had built a nice house in the pond, Where he could see all the ducks there beyond. He swam around with a slap of his tail, Happy to know that his vim did not fail. | ||
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