"Goodness!" gasped Henrietta, backing away as the pet waddled toward her; "what is it? It looks just like a bad dream."
"I know," laughed Jean. "It's a porcupine. Just see how his quills stick out—Mercy! Look out, Bettie!"
"Ouch!" squealed short-skirted Bettie, as the clumsy beast hurtled past her. "My legs!"
"Why!" cried Mabel, "there's quills in your stockings!"
"In me, too," giggled Bettie. "I guess nobody'll pet that pet very much."
"Perhaps we don't want him," said Mr. Black, rather apologetically; "but I thought you might enjoy studying a porcupine at close quarters."
"Not too close," laughed Bettie, rubbing her shin.
"They're easily tamed," said Mr. Black, "and they'll eat most anything. I found this one on the river bank. He seemed willing enough to run, but it took quite a while to get him going in the right direction."
Mr. Black succeeded presently in getting a noose fastened about the porcupine's neck. Then, because there happened to be a convenient tree at that point, the other end of the rope was made fast to a sturdy maple near the path that led to the beach.
"We'll name him Percival Orlando de Courcy," declared Henrietta.