Tale of Timothy Turtle — Chapters 17-18

XVII TIMOTHY NEEDS HELP

Everybody who lived near Black Creek noticed Timothy Turtle's new collar.

And almost every one, being curious, asked Mr. Turtle where he got it, and why he was wearing it.

Now, Timothy Turtle would give such folk no answer at all.

But old Mr. Crow knew what had happened--of course.

And he took pains to tell all his friends how Johnnie Green had caught Timothy and tied a rope around his neck, and cut something on Timothy's back, besides.

[Illustration: "Let me go!"

Fatty Coon shrieked.

] So it was not long before Timothy Turtle's neighbors began to ask him what was on his back.

"My shell's on my back!"

he snapped, when any one put that question to him.

"Yes--but what's on your shell?"

everybody was sure to answer back.

Timothy Turtle couldn't have replied to that question, even if he had wanted to.

And though he always sneered when hearing it and turned his head away, as if the matter was something he didn't care to talk about, there was nobody who was any more eager to know the answer than he.

To be sure, by raising his head he could get a slanting view of the top of his shell.

But such a glimpse was not enough to tell him anything.

Under the constant inquiries of his neighbors Timothy's curiosity grew every day.

Soon he took to staring at his reflection in the surface of the water, with the hope that he might be able to see his back in that way.

But it was all in vain.

Though Timothy twisted and turned and stretched his long neck, he couldn't see his own back, no matter how much he tried.

Now, there was an ill-mannered scamp named Peter Mink who happened to go prowling up the creek one day.

And as he quietly rounded a bend he came upon an odd sight.

In front of him, and perched on a rock in the midst of the water, Timothy Turtle was going through the queerest motions.

He seemed to be peering into the water at something, while wriggling about in a most peculiar fashion.

He did not notice Peter Mink, who stood stock still and watched him for some time without speaking.

At last Peter's prying ways got the better of him.

He simply had to say something.

"What on earth are you doing!"

he called to Timothy.

Mr. Turtle gave a great start.

"I'm looking at myself--that's all," he said.

He was so surprised that for once he actually answered a question politely.

His reply amused Peter Mink.

And that ill-bred rascal laughed right in Timothy Turtle's face.

"Time must hang heavy on your hands, if you can't find anything pleasanter to do than that," he remarked--for Peter Mink never cared how rude he was.

In fact he liked to make unkind remarks.

"Aren't you afraid," he added, "that you'll wear out the surface of the creek, gazing into it?

I shouldn't like that very well," said Peter Mink, "because then it couldn't freeze in winter, and you know it's great sport to hunt muskrats under the ice."

Well, Peter's speech alarmed Timothy Turtle.

And yet he felt that he could not rest until he knew what was on his back.

So he asked Peter Mink to meet him on the bank.

"I want you to help me," he said.

"I have reason to believe that there's something written on my back.

And you must tell me what it is."

XVIII PETER MINK'S PLAN

Now Peter Mink had never learned to read.

In the first place, he had never had a chance to learn.

And in the second, he was such a good-for-nothing rascal that he wouldn't have gone to school anyhow.

But he did not tell all this to Timothy Turtle.

When he stepped behind Timothy and gazed at his back, Peter Mink thought of a fine way to tease the old fellow.

Of course, he had not the slightest idea what those marks on Mr. Turtle's shell meant.

But he looked down at them with a wise smile.

Mr. Turtle, watching Peter out of the corner of his eye, saw that smile;

and he did not like it in the least.

In fact, it made him feel quite peevish.

"Well, what do you see?"

he asked Peter Mink impatiently.

"Ah!"

Peter Mink replied with a shake of his small head.

"I'm not going to tell you, Mr. Turtle.

I don't want to hurt your feelings.

And if I were to explain that your back says you're a disagreeable, mean old scamp, you know you'd be very angry."

Peter Mink jumped out of the way just in time.

For Timothy Turtle wheeled with amazing swiftness and snapped at his tormentor.

"Don't do that!"

Peter cried.

"_I_ didn't say anything about you, Mr. Turtle."

"You'd better not," Timothy warned him.

"And if Johnnie Green carved any such words as those on my shell I don't know what to do.

I certainly don't want to carry them about with me for the rest of my life."

He looked unhappy, to say the least.

He knew that probably he would live a great many years longer.

And he was puzzled.

"Why don't you get a new shell?"

Peter Mink inquired.

"I'd hate to do that," Timothy Turtle told him.

"I've had this one a long time; and it fits me perfectly."

"Then why don't you get the well-known tailor, Mr. Ferdinand Frog, to make you a coat that will cover your back?

If you did that, nobody could see what's on your shell."

"A good idea!"

Timothy Turtle exclaimed.

"I'll see Mr. Frog at once.

And some day I'll do something handsome for you, because you've been a great help to me."

"Why wait?"

Peter Mink demanded.

"Why don't you do it now?"

Knowing that Timothy was stingy, Peter thought that the old gentleman would soon change his mind about "doing something handsome" for him.

"No!"

Timothy Turtle declared.

"I want to wait a while and think it over."

"Well, then," Peter Mink urged him, "why don't you crawl under that shelving rock and think it over right now?"

"You ask too many questions," Mr. Turtle told him.

"And besides, I must hurry away and find Ferdinand Frog.

I want my new coat as soon as I can get it.

And the longer I stay here, the more time I shall lose."

So in spite of all Peter Mink could say, Timothy slipped into Black Creek and swam away.