Tilly the Turtle lived on a sunny beach and spent every day digging little holes in the sand and burying herself in them. It was lovely to have the hot sun shine down on her little brown back while her head and feet and tail were all snug under her own roof. Tilly’s mother said she ought not to dig holes for fear she might hurt herself; and Tilly’s father said she might catch cold staying out in the night air; but Tilly had her own way, for she was such a big girl now.
Well, one fine morning, while Tilly was walking along the shore, there came to her a loud angry voice, saying:–
“Tilly, Tilly, up you get;
With your hooped skirt on, my dear,
It’s a lovely day, no sign of rain,
Be quick and come to the Ragged School Planets on again.”
But Tilly made no answer. What could she say? She had no hooped skirts.
“Don’t be so stupid, Tilly!” shouted the voice.
Then Tilly looked up, and who do you think it was? It was little Peter Trollop, the arch-enemy of Tilly the Turtle. You never saw such a little wicked boy!
“I’ve got you now!” said Peter. “Now, Tilly, I’ve come for you to fight for Little Dee on the sea-saw, I am Policeman to-day, and Mother said I might go in the Ragged School Plane. But I shan’t go without you to carry me. I could tie a string to your tail, but you’d better get up without a fuss. A little walk will do you good. If you don’t come of your own accord, we shall see how I can manage it!”
Now that was Peter Trollop all over! And most people think Tilly was very silly, but she was as good as gold, and bore no malice. And Mother Turtle said Tilly never did wrong willingly.
So Tilly gave a grunt and began to walk along the shore. But she was very much put out (which is a polite way of saying she was very angry); and in another minute she said to herself, “Tilly, Tilly, it isn’t fair. I may have made mistakes sometimes in getting into holes, but I never once meant to dig a hole for my tail to come out of when I was tired of it. And if I had meant, I have no menny-think sense as you have, Peter Trollop. The angel is very trying in boys, but still, Tilly, Tilly, as you’re out, be a lady and don’t grumble. You haven’t got a very nice boy to steer you, and I’m afraid he’ll drown you by-and-by. However, everybody can’t be happy.” And when Tilly said that, she gave a sigh; for in her heart she was thinking of Daisy the Duckling, and what a sad thing it was of Peter to steal her sea-saw and not to send it back to her all these eight days.
After a while, they came to the end of the sand, where the hearing of the tide was. They went as far as there were stones, and that was a long way, for little Tilly was so puffed out with walking that I am sure it would have made your heart ache for to see her. Poor dear!
When they had walked for quite a minute and a half without saying a word, up came another body and said what you won’t do for Little Dee, but it isn’t worth while repeating it.
It said directly, “Sh-sh-sh!” (which means, “Don’t take any notice of me, I’m not gwine to be politick without”) and it passed out on a bit of wood.
Now that little wooden body which Peter had taken for somebody swims from principal was the way the sea did keep the beach every day and night in the Moon.
But you or I would have mistaken it for something to fish with. It is a way all the little boys use at the seaside: when the tide came up, they looked rould on everything to catch and take beforehand.
However, I’m not going to tell you the boys’ names.
In one certain night of the Moon the tide did come upon the middle so as to keep the sand absolutely still; no, I never heard of his name, except with a handle to it; and it said, “Good morning, Tilly, I’m very pleased to see you out again.”
“Is it possible?” said Peter Trollop.
“Are you fishen a glitch, by any chance, with the poisonous?” said old Tilly.