"Ugh!" Long Bill's small son shivered[p. 10] 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."

[p. 11]

III

TIMOTHY'S GRUDGE

Sometimes Fatty Coon liked a taste of fresh fish, just by way of a change from Farmer Green's corn, and blackberries, wild grapes, bugs—and all the other dainties on which he dined.

So it happened that one day he visited Black Creek, where he crouched near the water with the hope that some silly fish would swim within reach of his sharp claws.

For a long time he waited patiently. And at last, to his great joy, a young pickerel nosed his way through the shallow water in front of him.[p. 12]

The newcomer was hunting flies. And he did not notice the eager fisherman.