Spotty the Turtle sat on an old log on the bank of the Smiling Pool, taking a sun-bath.  He had sat that way for the longest time without once moving.  Peter Rabbit had seen him when he went by on his way to the Laughing Brook and the Green Forest to look for some one to pass the time of day with.  Spotty was still there when Peter returned a long time after, and he didn’t look as if he had moved.  A sudden thought struck Peter.  He couldn’t remember that he ever had seen Spotty’s house.  He had seen the houses of most of his other friends, but think as hard as ever he could, he didn’t remember having seen Spotty’s.

“Hi, Spotty!” he shouted.  “Where do you live?”

Spotty slowly turned his head and looked up at Peter.  There was a twinkle in his eyes, though Peter didn’t see it.

“Right here in the Smiling Pool.  Where else should I live?” he replied.

“I mean, where is your house?” returned Peter.  “Of course I know you live in the Smiling Pool, but where is your house?  Is it in the bank or down under water?”

“It is just wherever I happen to be.  Just now it is right here,” said Spotty.  “I always take it with me wherever I go; I find it much the handiest way.”

[Illustration:  “Hi, Spotty!” he shouted.  “Where do you live?”]

With that Spotty disappeared.  That is to say, his head and legs and tail disappeared.  Peter stared very hard.  Then he began to laugh, for it came to him that what Spotty had said was true.  His house was with him, and now he had simply retired inside.  He didn’t need any other house than just that hard, spotted shell, inside of which he was now so cosily tucked away.

“That’s a great idea!  Ho, ho, ho!  That’s a great idea!” shouted Peter.

“Of course it is,” replied Spotty, putting nothing but his head out, “You will always find me at home whenever you call, Peter, and that is more than you can say of most other people.”

All the way to his own home in the dear Old Briar-patch, Peter thought about Spotty and how queer it was that he should carry his house around with him.

“I wonder how it happens that he does it,” thought he.  “No wonder he is so slow.  Of course, it is very handy to have his house always with him.  As he says, he is always at home.  Still, when he is in a hurry to get away from an enemy, it must be very awkward to have to carry his house on his back.  I—­I—­why, how stupid of me!  He doesn’t have to run away at all!  All he has got to do is to go inside his house and stay there until the danger is past!  I never thought of that before.  Why, that is the handiest thing I ever heard of.”

Now Peter knew that there must be a good story about Spotty and his house, and you know Peter dearly loves a good story.  So at the very first opportunity the next day, he hurried over to the Smiling Pool to ask Grandfather Frog about it.  As usual, Grandfather Frog was sitting on his big green lily-pad.  No sooner did Peter pop his head above the edge of the bank of the Smiling Pool than Grandfather Frog exclaimed: