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Tale of Timothy Turtle, The

<h2>IX</h2> <h3>A PLEASURE TRIP</h3> Almost always the wild folk in Pleasant Valley knew that if they wanted to see Timothy Turtle they could find him somewhere in Black Creek. But once in a great while he liked to go on what he called "an excursion." By that he meant a pleasure trip to some spot not too far away—never outside of Pleasant Valley. Nobody meeting Timothy Turtle on one of those journeys would have suspected that he was bent on pleasure. Or at least, nobody would have supposed that Mr. Turtle had found what he was looking for. Certainly if he was hunting for fun, he never looked as if he had discovered any. For no smile showed itself upon his face. Instead, he met every one with a frown. And if a body gave him a cheery "Good morning," just as likely as not Timothy would answer with a grunt, and pass on. Naturally, when Timothy Turtle arrived anywhere and told people that he expected to spend a few days among them they did not feel any great joy at the news. On the contrary, they were quite likely to say to one another, "I hope he won't stop long," or "He looks more grumpy than ever." And some would even remark that they wished Timothy Turtle would go home and stay there. So no one of the Beaver colony was glad when Timothy appeared in their pond one day and explained that he intended to be in the neighborhood at least a week. In the first place, the Beavers, as a whole, were a busy, cheerful family, who did not like disagreeable folk for company. And in the second place, they were spry workers; and they had little use for anybody as slow as Timothy Turtle, who never did any work at all. It is no wonder, then, that as soon as the news of Timothy's coming spread up and down and across the pond, the busy Beavers stopped their work and said things about the crusty outsider who had forced himself upon them. And almost everybody went to call upon Grandaddy Beaver and asked him what he thought ought to be done. Now, Grandaddy was a good old soul. And he told the hot-headed younger members of the colony to keep cool, which seems a simple thing for them to have done, swimming about as they were in the icy water, which flowed down from springs on the side of Blue Mountain. "Timothy Turtle has been here before," Grandaddy Beaver announced. "I can remember my great-grandfather's telling me about his passing two whole weeks in our pond. And though everybody wished he would leave, he never harmed anybody, because people kept out of his way." "Well, he ought to work while he's here," said a brisk gentleman, tugging at his moustache. "Timothy Turtle will never lift his hand to do a single stroke of work," said old Grandaddy Beaver. "He has already spent a long life without working. And he'll be lazy if he lives to be a hundred years old—or even a hundred and fifty." Now, a young chap called Brownie Beaver heard all this, as he stood in Grandaddy's doorway and peeped inside the house. And he thought it was a shame that somebody couldn't make Timothy Turtle mend his ways. To Brownie Bearer it seemed that Timothy Turtle was old enough to behave himself. <hr class="chapter" /> <h2>X</h2> <h3>A WARNING</h3> Timothy Turtle's visit at the beaver pond was just like all of his outings. Wherever he went he was so disagreeable and snappish that there wasn't a single person in the whole village that didn't wish Timothy had stayed away from that place. He was forever grumbling, complaining that the fishing was poor in the pond. And as for frogs, he declared that he hadn't seen even one. "Why anybody wants to live here is more than I can understand." That was what Timothy Turtle told everyone he met. And of course it was a poor way of making himself welcome. "Why do you come here, if you don't like our pond?" people asked him. "It's a change for me," was Timothy's reply. "After I've spent a week with you I'll be pretty glad to get back home again. And I won't want to go on another excursion for a whole year—or maybe two. "It's twenty years since I was here before. And I sha'n't care to come again for forty, at least." Now, such dreadfully rude remarks hurt the Beaver family's feelings. And when Timothy Turtle seized a fat lady by the tail one day and wouldn't let her go until sunset, her feelings were hurt most of all. She cried that she had never been so insulted in all her life. Timothy Turtle merely said that she ought not to object. He explained that he had been giving her a rest—for of course she couldn't cut down a tree, nor work upon the dam that held the water in the pond, while he clung fast to her tail. Well, this fat lady happened to be Brownie Beaver's mother. And after her disagreeable experience with the stranger, Brownie made up his mind that he would make Timothy Turtle work. That was the worst punishment he could think of. Whenever the members of the Beaver family were not sleeping, or eating, either they were gathering food by cutting down trees, or they were mending their dam. The dam always had leaks here and there. And sooner or later every one of them had to be stopped, before it grew so big that the water would rush through it and tear a hole so great that the pond would be drained dry. During his stay among the Beavers Timothy Turtle often crawled on top of the dam and stretched himself out and watched the Beavers at their task. He said that if there was one thing that he liked to see more than another it was "a gang of men working." But he complained that they ought to work in the daytime, when the sun was shining, because then it would have been "much pleasanter for him." "Don't you want to help us?" asked the brisk fellow who had told Grandaddy Beaver that he thought Timothy Turtle ought to go to work. That question actually made Timothy snort. "Me work?" he snapped scornfully, as he glared at the speaker. Everybody knew what he meant. And everybody knew how Timothy felt, too, when he edged along the dam and made a savage pass at the plump gentleman who had spoken to him. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus-061.jpg" alt="Timothy began to climb the steep bluff." title="Timothy began to climb the steep bluff." width-obs="389" height-obs="549" /> Timothy began to climb the steep bluff.</div> Luckily the brisk Beaver jumped aside before Timothy Turtle's jaws closed on him. And he did not say another word to the stranger during the rest of his stay at the pond. But Timothy Turtle became quite talkative. He stopped all he met—old and young both—and warned them that nobody need try to get him to work, for he never had worked, and he never intended to. <hr class="chapter" /> <h2>XI</h2> <h3>ON THE BEAVER DAM</h3> Timothy Turtle was so angry that he went about snapping at everybody and everything. And since the whole Beaver family kept carefully out of his way, he had to content himself with setting his jaws upon roots and sticks. Now, the Beavers' dam was made of sticks and mud. So Timothy found plenty of chances to bite. And because he could not hurt the sticks, no matter how much he tried, nobody cared. Really he acted in a most silly, surly fashion. Out of a corner of his eye Brownie Beaver watched Timothy Turtle closely. Brownie had not forgotten how Timothy seized his mother by the tail. And while he was helping his elders on the dam, at the same time he was trying to think of some way to outwit Timothy Turtle. It happened that just at that time the dam needed a great deal of mending. There were so many holes to be filled that the Beavers worked all night long. And in spite of all their efforts they saw that even then a few leaks would have to go unmended. But they did not get snappish nor lose their tempers. They were not like Timothy Turtle. Though he slept a great part of the night, and waked up to watch the workers early in the morning, his temper was worse than ever. He was paddling through the water close to the dam when Brownie Beaver called to him. "You see that stick??" said Brownie, pointing to a stout piece of box elder that stuck out of the dam. "I'm not blind," Timothy Turtle snarled back at him. "Well, please don't bite it, anyhow!" Brownie Beaver begged him. That was enough for Timothy Turtle. The mere fact that he thought somebody didn't want him to do a certain thing was sure to make him do it. So without saying another word he seized that stick in his powerful jaws. And bracing his feet against the inner side of the dam, half in the water and half out, he pulled with all his strength. Now and then he turned his beady eyes toward Brownie Beaver and frowned at him, as if to say, "Don't give me any orders, young fellow! I shall do just as I please; and nobody can stop me." Timothy noticed that Brownie went to a number of the other workers and whispered to them. And when everyone to whom he spoke called to Timothy and asked 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. <hr class="chapter" /> <h2>XII</h2> <h3>KIND TIMOTHY TURTLE</h3> 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. <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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