The Tale of Timothy Turtle | Page 9

him if he wouldn't just as soon let go of that stick and grab another one, that crusty old codger made up his mind that nobody should move him from that spot. He took an even firmer hold and tugged as if he meant to tear the whole dam down.
But the Beaver family knew that he couldn't do any damage. And as soon as it was light enough they all went home to take a nap, leaving Timothy Turtle to pull away to his heart's content.

XII
KIND TIMOTHY TURTLE
All day long Timothy Turtle stayed on the Beaver dam. And when the Beavers returned in the evening, to resume their work, they found Timothy still clinging to the box elder stick.
To Timothy Turtle's deep disgust the plump workers gathered round him and laughed. He could never bear to hear people laugh--laughing was so silly, he always said. And now Brownie Beaver laughed louder than all the rest.
"Look!" Brownie cried, pointing straight at Timothy Turtle. "Isn't he kind? He has stopped up that big hole for us all day.... And now"--Brownie added, turning to Timothy Turtle--"now if you'll kindly stop working for us and move aside we'll fill that hole that's right under you, with mud."
Timothy Turtle never felt more ashamed in all his long life. There he had been working all day long, helping the Beaver family by plugging a hole in their dam with his flat body--and he had never guessed what he was doing!
He let go of the stick and sank hastily in the pond, where the water was deepest, to bury himself in the soft bottom. And there he stayed and sulked for the rest of the week, until his visit was done. If he stuck his head out of the water now and then for a breath of air, he was careful to let no one see him.
He did not even bid the Beaver family good-by at the end of his visit, but left in the middle of the day, when everybody was sound asleep.
Grandaddy Beaver said it was no more than one could expect of a person so rude as Timothy Turtle.
"He was just like that in my great-grandfather's time," the old gentleman explained.
And all the rest of the villagers remarked that Timothy Turtle was old enough to have better manners. Certainly, they said, the youngest Beaver child knew better than to treat people in such a rude fashion.
Brownie Beaver's mother especially announced that she had never in all her life met a gentleman who had treated her so disrespectfully as old Mr. Turtle. And she grew red and pale by turns as she recalled how he had seized her by the tail and held her fast for a whole day.
"I hope," she said, "that by the time he comes here again he will have learned how to behave himself."
But Grandaddy Beaver shook his head.
"Timothy Turtle," he declared, "will be no different even if he lives to be a thousand years old."
And everybody said that it was a great pity.

XIII
THE PLOT
Of all the creatures that walked or swam or flew, Timothy Turtle liked boys the least of all. He said that if they ever did anything except throw stones he had never caught them at it.
"It's a wonder"--he often remarked--"it's a wonder that there's a stone left anywhere along this creek. I've lived here a good many years; and no boy ever spied me sunning myself on a rock in the water without trying to hit me."
Once in a great while some youngster was skillful enough to bounce a stone off Mr. Turtle's back. And when the old scamp flopped into the water he always heard a great whooping from the bank.
At such times as likely as not Timothy had been awakened from a sound sleep. But when that jeering noise greeted his ears he knew at once what had struck him.
It was a good thing for him that he had a hard back. Nevertheless it always made him angry to be disturbed when he was taking a nap. And some people said that if Timothy Turtle ever grabbed a boy by his great-toe, when he was in swimming, that youngster would limp for many a day thereafter.
But the boys went in swimming just the same. Black Creek would have had to be alive with turtles to keep them out of it on a hot summer's day. Indeed Farmer Green often said that he wished his son Johnnie would spend half the time in the hayfield that he wasted around the creek.
When questioned by his father, Johnnie said that there was an old turtle in Black Creek that he wanted to catch.
"What are you going to do with him--make soup of him?" Farmer Green inquired solemnly.
Johnnie shook his head.
"I want to cut my initials on his shell