Timothy Turtle. And it was no wonder. For Timothy had
tried, more than once to make a meal of the nimble Mr. Frog.

"I haven't come here to hurt you," Timothy Turtle explained, trying to
smile at the face in the window. "I want you to make me a new coat--a
big one that will cover my back all over."

To his great disappointment Mr. Frog shook his head with great force.

"I'm not interested," he announced.

"Do you mean"--Timothy Turtle faltered--"do you mean that you won't make
a coat for me?"

"Exactly!"

"Why?" Timothy pressed him.

"Too busy!" was Mr. Frog's answer.

"Who is?"

"You are!" said Mr. Frog. "Ever since I've known you, you've been trying
to catch me and my friends."

"Why--er--I was only joking," Timothy Turtle told him. "You mustn't mind
my playful ways. Just make me a coat and I'll do something handsome for
you."

It was now the tailor's turn to ask questions.

"What"--he inquired--"what will you do?"

"I couldn't just say at this moment," Timothy replied.

"Why not?"

"Oh, I'd want to think a while," said Timothy Turtle.

"Very well!" was the tailor's answer. "I've no objection, though it's
something I never do myself."

"I wish you'd come outside a moment, since you don't want me inside your
shop," Timothy remarked. "I'd like to whisper to you."

"I'm deaf," Mr. Frog informed him. "I couldn't hear a single word, even
if you were to shout your head off."

"You can hear what I'm saying now well enough," Timothy pointed out.

"I read the lips," said Mr. Frog with a snicker.

That speech made Timothy Turtle start.

"Then if you can read my lips, no doubt you can read what's on my back,"
he said.

"That's easy," the tailor observed. "Your shell's on your back, of
course."

Timothy Turtle glanced up with a look of scorn.

"Don't be silly!" he snapped. "I mean, can you read what's carved on my
shell?"

"Certainly!" Mr. Frog replied. And he began to mutter, as if to himself,
"J. G.--that means _just grumpy_, of course----"

Timothy Turtle interrupted him quickly.

"I don't care to hear any more," he screamed. And turning away, he
waddled towards the water.

"That Ferdinand Frog has no manners," he spluttered. "I only wish he
wasn't quite so spry." And Mr. Turtle looked very fierce as he snapped
his jaws together.

XX

THE ALMANAC

One rainy night Peter Mink stopped at Black Creek; and calling loudly to
Timothy Turtle he asked for a place to sleep.

"You re