He was far, far up the
Laughing Brook, very much farther than he had ever been before, and
as he yawned and stretched, he wondered if after all he hadn't
dreamed about the wall of logs and sticks and mud across the
Laughing Brook. When he had rubbed the last sleepy-wink out of his
eyes, he looked again. There it was, just as he had seen it the
night before! Then Spotty knew that it was real, and he began to
wonder what was on the other side of it.
"I cannot climb it, for my legs were never made for climbing," said
Spotty mournfully as he looked at his funny little black feet.
"Oh, dear, I wish that I could climb like Happy Jack Squirrel!"
Just then a thought popped into his head and chased away the little
frown that had crept into Spotty's face. "Perhaps Happy Jack
sometimes wishes that he could swim as I can, so I guess we are even.
I can't climb, but he can't swim. How foolish it is to wish for
things never meant for you!"
And with that, all the discontent left Spotty the Turtle, and he
began to study how he could make the most of his short legs and his
perseverance, of which, as you already know, he had a great deal.
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