it was the hedgehog who started it.
“Spines would be awkward in the shallows,” murmured the water-rat, as she swam quietly over to the far shore, keeping half an eye on the stoat, who was also something of a swimmer.
“Spines!” squeaked the noctule from the safe height of a hundred feet. “Why load yourself with spines? Why not fly like me?”
“Spines!” shouted the squirrel. “A pretty mess you’d make of it with spines up here. Do you think every one spends their life grubbing after ground beetles?”
“Spines!” purred the moths. “We gave up spines at quite an early stage. Haven’t you finished moulting, hedgehog?”
“Spines!” snapped the trout. “Give me a good set of fins.”
Now this was exactly what the hedgehog had foreseen. As I have said before, he had a keen sense of humour.
“I am willing to hear you all,” said he.
So, because of his pleistocene lineage, and because of his popularity (the comedian is always the more popular candidate), and because he had started the discussion, he was voted to the chair.