om a safe
hiding-place under the bank.

He saw that Johnnie Green was a good fisherman. Before he moved on he
caught three big fish from that pool; and one of them--the biggest of
the three--was the very fish on which Timothy Turtle had been expecting
to dine that day.

It was really no wonder that he was annoyed. And when Johnnie went
further up the creek to try his luck elsewhere Timothy Turtle slipped
into the water and followed him.

The more fish he saw Johnnie Green catch, the angrier Timothy grew. And
he went out of his way to tell a number of his neighbors what was
happening.

"Something ought to be done about it!" he complained.

"Why don't you go down and speak to Farmer Green?" Peter Mink
suggested. Peter liked fish, too. And he had often said that Johnnie
had no right to take food away from him, when everybody knew that there
was a plenty at the farmhouse.

Timothy Turtle did not care for Peter's suggestion.

"I've no time to waste talking to Farmer Green," he said. "It seems to
me a letter would be better. Now, if somebody would write a letter, and
get everybody to sign his name to it, and send it down to Farmer Green
by a messenger, I would do my share to help. I would tell the messenger
where to leave the letter so that Farmer Green would be sure to find
it." Timothy then said that he must hurry back to the creek, for he
wanted to see how many fish Johnnie Green took, so the number could be
mentioned in the letter. But before he left Timothy told Peter Mink to
go and find somebody to write the letter. "There's old Mr. Crow,"
Timothy said. "You might ask him. He could use one of his quills for a
pen, you know."

When Timothy Turtle reached the creek once more he found that while he
was talking to Peter Mink, Johnnie Green had moved oh again.

So Timothy started to follow him. But what should he see, lying on the
bank right before him, but a string of seven pickerel! Johnnie Green had
left them there, while he went still further up the creek to catch more.

Timothy Turtle suddenly changed his mind about sending a letter to
Farmer Green. He wished that Johnnie would come there to fish every day.

"He's a kind boy, after all!" said Timothy Turtle to himself. "I never
dreamed that he was catching these fish for me. But here they are,
waiting for me! For Johnnie must have known that I would find them."

Timothy Turtle didn't say anything more. Of course he was only talking
to himself, anyhow. And