"Why do you suppose I can't find any turtles in my brook?" asked the child, after a short pause. "Mother says perhaps they like meadows better than shady ravines."
"Perhaps they do; but," and the broker nodded knowingly, "there's another reason."
"Why, grandpa, why?" asked Jewel eagerly.
"Oh, Nature is such a neat housekeeper!"
"Why, turtles must be lovely and clean."
"Yes, I know; and if Summer would just let the brook alone you might find a baby turtle for Anna Belle."
"She'd love it. Her eyes nearly popped out when mother was telling about it."
"Well, there it is, you see. Now I'd be ashamed to have you see that brook in August, Jewel." Mr. Evringham slapped the pommel of his saddle to emphasize the depth of his feelings.
"Why, what happens?"
"Dry—as—a—bone!"