UZ G AUNT'S TALK ABOUT TURTLES. 279 



gained a little, slowly, and after a bit got on the high 

 ground. Then I felt more at ease and took a rest. I 

 couldn't take him home, of course, in the same fashion, 

 but I had a chance to let him loose, and rest my hands. 

 How I looked 'round for a bit of rope to bridle him ! It 

 was no use, though, and after all I was likely to lose him 

 altogether. After a minute's thinkin', it occurred to me 

 I'd make a hobble out of my shirt and then slip home 

 lively for the right sort of tackle. I wasn't long in get- 

 tin' the shirt off, and I twisted it into a sort of rope and 

 hobbled him with it. It was a desperate, odd-lookin' tur- 

 tle when I got through, and I laughed at him a bit as I 

 turned toward the house. You see, I left him on his 

 back, and his legs bound so he couldn't use 'em to turn 

 over. I skipped pretty lively, I tell you, for that mile or 

 so twixt me and home, and was in a good glow when I 

 got in. Hettie looked kind o' scared when she saw me, 

 but I put her mind to rest in two words, and soon was on 

 my way back. A bit of rope and my sheath-knife was 

 all I needed. I slapped over the fields pretty lively, and 

 was soon again in sight. Now, I don't think it was an 

 hour, by some minutes, before I was back on the high 

 meadow, but, by gracious ! it don't take long for scenes 

 to change in natur' any more than it does in a theatre. 

 Of all queer sights, that was the funniest I saw when I 

 got back. The turtle had got half free of my old red 

 shirt, and was pawin' the air like mad, tryin' to get on 

 his feet again. I could see that much a long way off, and 

 put on extra speed ; but when I was about fifty yards off 

 I stopped short. There was that turtle wrapped in my 

 shirt, and a pesky skunk sort of standin' guard over him. 

 Now, I hate skunks. They don't pay to trap, and they 

 rob my hen-roost every winter. I was afraid to frighten 

 him, too, for fear he'd spoil my snapper, and I wanted 



