curious as to what it might be.

"Well, befo' de king!" said Nancy, "whar y'all bin livin' dat you nuver
seed a mole befo'? Whar you come f'um mus' be a mighty cur'ous spot ef
dey ain' have no moleses dar; mus' be sump'n wrong wid dat place. I bin
mos' all over dish yer Sussex kyounty endurin' er my time, an' I ain'
nuver come 'cross no place yit whar dey ain' have moleses.

"Moleses is sut'n'y cur'ous li'l creeturs," she continued. "I bin
teckin' tickler notuss un 'em dis long time, an' dey knows mo'n you'd
think fer, jes' ter look at 'em. Dough dey lives down un'need de groun',
yit dey is fus'class swimmers; I done seed one, wid my own eyes,
crossin' de branch, an' dey kin root 'long un'need de yearf mos' ez fas'
ez a hoss kin trot on top uv hit. Y'all neenter look dat-a-way, 'kase
hit's de trufe; dey's jes' built fer gittin' 'long fas' unner groun'.
Der han's is bofe pickaxes an' shovels fer 'em; dey digs an' scoops wid
der front ones an' kicks de dirt out de way wid der behime ones. Der
strong snouts he'ps 'em, too, ter push der way thu de dirt."

"Their fur is just as soft and shiny as silk," said Janey.

"Yas," said Aunt Nancy, "hit's dat sof an' shiny dat, dough dey live
all time in de dirt, not a speck er dirt sticks to 'em. You ses 'sof an'
shiny ez silk,' but I tell you hit _is_ silk; silk clo'es, dat 'zackly
w'at 'tis."

Ned laughed. "Who ever heard of an animal dressed in silk clothes?" he
said.

"Nemmine," she answered, "you talks mighty peart, but I knows w'at I