“I hope we shall find a prince,” said Ernest, “Gladys ought to see one of those.”

“Yes, indeed,” responded Faith.  “They’re snapping turtles, really, and they grow bigger than these common ones; but they’re so handsome and hard to find we call them princes.  Their shells are gray on top and smooth and polished, like satin; and then, underneath, oh, they’re beautiful; sometimes plain ivory, and sometimes bright red; and they have lovely yellow and black splashes where the lower shell joins the upper.  I wish you could see a baby turtle, Gladys.  Once I found one no bigger than a quarter of a dollar.  I don’t believe it had ever been in the water.”

“I wish I could,” returned Gladys, with enthusiasm.  “I wouldn’t be a bit afraid of a little, little one.”

“Of course that one she found was just a common turtle, like these,” said Ernest, “but a baby prince is the thing we want.”

“Yes, indeed,” sighed Faith ecstatically.  “If I could just once find a baby prince with a red under shell, I don’t know what I’d do!  I’d be too happy for anything.  I’ve hunted for one for two whole summers.  The big ones do snap so that, though they’re so handsome, you can’t have much fun with them.”

The children walked on, Gladys now quite in the spirit of the hunt.  They found two more spotted turtles before they turned again to retrace their steps.

Now it proved that this was to be a red-letter day in the history of their turtle hunts, for on the way home they found the much sought baby prince.  He had been in this world long enough to become a polished little creature, with all his points of beauty brought out; but not long enough to be suspicious and to make a wild scramble when he saw the children coming.

Faith’s trained eyes fell first upon the tiny, dark object, sunning himself happily in all his baby innocence, and blinking at the lovely green world surrounding his shallow stone.  Her heart beat fast and she said to herself, “Oh, I know it’s a common one!” She tiptoed swiftly nearer.  It was not a common one.  It was a prince!  It was a prince!

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, as, holding her skirt-bag of turtles with one hand, she lightly tiptoed forward, and, falling on her knees in front of the stone, gathered up the prince, just as he saw her and pushed with his tiny feet to slip off the rock into the brook.

“Oh, oh, oh!” was all she could say as she sat there, swaying herself back and forth, and holding the baby to her flushed cheek.

“What is it?  What?” cried Ernest, jumping across the brook to her side.  She smiled at him and Gladys without a word, and held up her prize, showing the pretty red under shell, while the baby, very much astonished to find himself turned over in mid air, drew himself into his house.

“Oh, the cunning, cunning thing!” cried Gladys, her eyes flashing radiantly.  “I’m so glad we found him!”