the curious to gratify,
you first will have to satisfy.
little joe otter.
peter rabbit sat at the top of the steep bank of the laughing brook in the green forest, as puzzled a rabbit as ever lived. the queer trail he had followed ended in this long furrow straight down the steep bank to the water. peter hadn’t the least idea who had made that queer trail. so he sat there, staring all about rather foolishly, and now and then scratching a long ear with a long hind foot.
“hello, peter rabbit! isn’t this great weather? don’t you just love it? i do,” said a voice.
peter stared all around, everywhere but in the right direction. finally he just happened to look down in the black, cold water of the laughing brook. there in the very middle of it he saw a brown head with a pair of bright eyes full of mischief looking up at him.
“little joe otter!” cried peter. “goodness, how you startled me! i couldn’t tell where that voice came from. yes, this is fine weather. i like it too. but i hope it won’t get any colder.”
“i don’t care how cold it gets,” declared little joe otter. “by the way, what brings you over here to the laughing brook?”
that reminded peter of the queer trail that had so puzzled him. “some one, i haven’t the least idea who, has been traveling about in the green forest, and has left the queerest trail i’ve ever seen,” said he. “in parts of it there are no footprints at all; there is just a long furrow in the snow. here is one of those furrows right down this bank.”
little joe otter’s bright eyes twinkled. “that is queer,” said he. “now who under the sun do you suppose could have made it?”
“that’s what i want to know,” declared peter. “but i guess i’ll have to keep on wanting, for i don’t see that trail coming out of the water anywhere.”
“i’ll have to have a little closer look at that. i’ll join you in a minute,” said little joe otter.
he swam swiftly up the laughing brook and came out of the water where the bank was low. then he made his way around up to where peter was sitting. “that is a queer trail,” said he, trying to keep his eyes from twinkling. “it looks to me as if some one had slid down there. i tell you what, peter, let’s slide down, too, and see how it seems.”
“no, thank you,” replied peter promptly, and backed away in a rather undignified manner. just looking at that cold, black water made him chilly.
“oh, come on, peter! it is the greatest fun in the world!” cried little joe, and giving a quick, hard push with his hind feet he glided right down that furrow flat on his stomach straight into the water. peter looked over at the trail little joe had made getting up there. then in a flash he understood. that trail which had puzzled him so was made by little joe otter himself. he had made those queer furrows by sliding on his stomach in the same way that he had gone down that bank. peter gave a happy little sigh. his curiosity was satisfied.
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