dried themselves. Then
they saw that they were both of them quite different from what they had
been.

'Stickly-Prickly,' said Tortoise after breakfast, 'I am not what I was
yesterday; but I think that I may yet amuse Painted Jaguar.

'That was the very thing I was thinking just now,' said Stickly-Prickly.
'I think scales are a tremendous improvement on prickles--to say nothing
of being able to swim. Oh, won't Painted Jaguar be surprised! Let's go
and find him.'

By and by they found Painted Jaguar, still nursing his paddy-paw that
had been hurt the night before. He was so astonished that he fell three
times backward over his own painted tail without stopping.

'Good morning!' said Stickly-Prickly. 'And how is your dear gracious
Mummy this morning?'

'She is quite well, thank you,' said Painted Jaguar; 'but you must
forgive me if I do not at this precise moment recall your name.'

'That's unkind of you,' said Stickly-Prickly, 'seeing that this time
yesterday you tried to scoop me out of my shell with your paw.'

'But you hadn't any shell. It was all prickles,' said Painted Jaguar. 'I
know it was. Just look at my paw!'

'You told me to drop into the turbid Amazon and be drowned,' said
Slow-Solid. 'Why are you so rude and forgetful to-day?'

'Don't you remember what your mother told you?' said Stickly-Prickly,--

'Can't curl, but can swim--
Stickly-Prickly, that's him!
Curls up, but can't swim--
Slow-Solid, that's him!'

Then they both curled themselves up and rolled round and round Painted
Jaguar till his eyes turned truly cart-wheels in his head.

Then he went to fetch his mother.

'Mother,' he said, 'there are two new animals in the woods to-day, and
the one that you said couldn't swim, swims, and the one that you said
couldn't curl up, curls; and they've gone shares in their prickles, I
think, because both of them are scaly all over, instead of one being
smooth and the other very prickly; and, besides that, they are rolling
round and round in circles, and I don't feel comfy.'

'Son, son!' said Mother Jaguar ever so many times, graciously waving her
tail, 'a Hedgehog is a Hedgehog, and can't be anything but a Hedgehog;
and a Tortoise is a Tortoise, and can never be anything else.'

'But it isn't a Hedgehog, and it isn't a Tortoise. It's a little bit of
both, and I don't know its proper name.'

'Nonsense!' said Mother Jaguar. 'Everything has its proper name. I
should call it "Armadillo" till