Here is a memento of the feast hanging up at the top of the kitchenward doora pair of roughly-forged, rusty handcuffs amalgamated into one pair of jaws, like a muskrat trap.

It's all pretty wet; but I think you've got the wettest part of it; the best duck ponds, and the biggest muskrat-houses.

Our muskrat-hunters partook injudiciously of this unaccustomed dainty, and were visited with indescribable Nemesis.

Doughnuts, ex-barkeepers, and civilization at one end of the lake, and here were muskrat-skins, trappers, and the primeval.

I've been in the Low Countries, and must say it's a muskrat sort of a life the people lead; neither afloat nor ashore.