hildren 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 years and years. We'll have to get on with him as best
we can, for there's no doubt that Timothy Turtle is here to stay."

III

TIMOTHY'S G