The Tale of Timothy Turtle | Page 2

age he was quick as a flash. And one had to step lively
to escape him.
If Timothy had bitten you just for an instant, and then stopped, this
trick of his wouldn't have been so disagreeable. But he was not content
with a mere nip. When he had hold of you he never wanted to let you

go. And it was no joke getting away, once you found yourself caught
by him.
As for Timothy Turtle, he never could understand why his neighbors
objected to this little trick of his. He always said that it was more fun
than almost anything else he could think of. And it is true that he never
seemed so happy as he did when he had caught some careless person
and was biting him without mercy.
"Anybody that wants to may bite me," Timothy used to declare. But
perhaps he never stopped to think that one might almost as well bite a
rock as his hard shell. And anybody might better chew a piece of
leather than try to take a mouthful out of his legs, or his neck, or his
head.
So no one paid any heed to Timothy Turtle's kind offer. Even Peter
Mink, who was himself overfond of biting people, wisely let Mr. Turtle
alone.
There is no doubt that it was the safer way.

II
AN OLD-TIMER
It was pleasant for Timothy Turtle that he lived in Black Creek, for he
was very fond of fishing. If he had happened to make his home among
the rocks on the top of Blue Mountain he would have had to travel a
long way to find even a trout stream. But in Black Creek there were
fish right in his dooryard, one may say.
It was lucky for him, too, that he liked fish to eat. And whenever he
wanted a change of food the creek was a good place in which to find a
frog, or perhaps a foolish duckling who had not learned to be careful.
It was no wonder that all the mother birds in the neighborhood used to
warn their children to beware of Timothy Turtle. Did not Long Bill

Wren, who lived among the reeds on the bank of Black Creek, have a
narrow escape when he was only a few weeks old?
He had just learned to fly. And although his mother had told him not to
leave the bank, he disobeyed her. When she was not watching him he
sailed over the water for the first time in his life and alighted on a flat
object on top of a rock.
Bill supposed it was a stone that he was sitting on. And he felt so proud
of what he had done that he cried, "Look! Oh, look!"
His poor mother was dreadfully frightened when she saw him.
"Come back!" she shrieked. "You're in great danger!"
So Bill flew back to the bank as fast as he could go.
"What have I told you about Timothy Turtle?" his mother asked him
sharply.
"You've said to keep away from him, or he might eat me," young Bill
faltered.
"Exactly!" his mother cried. "And the moment I glance away, here you
go and sit right on his back! It's a wonder you're alive."
Her son hung his head. And never again did he pick out a perch until he
was sure it wasn't old Mr. Turtle.
When he was older, and had children of his own, Long Bill often
remarked that it was too bad Mr. Turtle didn't live in some other place.
"He makes my wife so nervous!" he used to exclaim. "With a new
brood of at least a half-dozen youngsters to take care of every summer
one has to watch sharp for Mr. Turtle whenever the children play near
the water." And Long Bill always took pains to tell his children of his
own adventure with Timothy Turtle and warn them not to make such a
mistake.
"Luckily I sat exactly in the center of Mr. Turtle's shell, so he couldn't

reach me," Long Bill was explaining to his family one day. "But if I
had happened to perch on his head I certainly wouldn't be here now."
"Oh, Mr. Turtle is too slow to catch me," one of the youngsters boasted.
"I saw him on the bank to-day; and he only crawled."
"Ah! You don't know him," Long Bill Wren replied. "When he wants to,
he can stand up on his hind legs as quick as a wink. And he can dart his
head out just like a snake."
"Ugh!" Long Bill's small son shivered as he spoke. "I wish Mr. Turtle
would go away from our creek."
"He thinks it's his creek," Long Bill Wren observed. "He has lived in it
years and