Myrtle the Turtle

Once upon a time there was a turtle named Myrtle. Myrtle wanted a girdle for her big round middle. Not a girdle to make her look thinner, mind you. She was proud of her large, lovable body. Myrtle wanted a pretty girdle like a belt for her beautiful round curves. Not just any pretty girdle, mind you. Myrtle dreamed of a beautiful girdle made of gold and silver with many sparkling gems to show off her large lovable body. However, Myrtle was not a rich turtle. She did not have the money to buy the beautiful girdle of her dreams. But Myrtle never stopped wishing for that girdle.

One morning Myrtle heard the sweet song of a troubadour. She slowly followed the sound of the song. Myrtle was a very large turtle, mind you. She was not a sleek racing turtle that could win a contest with a rabbit. Myrtle, like most turtles, was very, very slow.

By the time Myrtle reached him, the troubadour was done with his song. Smiling animals lay dreaming all around his feet. The troubadour packed to go on his way. Myrtle was very tired after her long walk. She panted, “Please, I have come a long way to hear your sweet songs. Please sing one more.”

“I love to sing,” said the troubadour, “but I have no more time this morning. I must go home. Cruel gremlins rule my village. Each year we must give their king a feast and sing. If we do not, the gremlins march on our lands. Terrible things happen all year. Our crops drop. Our chickens sicken. Everything creaks and squeaks and breaks into flakes.

“Tonight is the night the gremlin king comes. My grandfather and father sang for the gremlin king. Now it is my turn to sing to protect my people."

“Oh dear,” said Myrtle, “is there no end to this evil rule?"

The troubadour smiled, “My grandmother told me sweet songs put the gremlin king to sleep. Then the crown might fall from his head. The one who catches the great crown becomes the ruler. It is our only hope of being free from the gremlin’s rule.”

“Is it hard to sing the gremlin king to sleep?” asked Myrtle.

“My grandmother told me her grandfather sang the king to sleep once,” said the troubadour. “But alas, the great crown fell on the head of another gremlin sitting at the king’s feet. The gremlins sit in a circle on the floor around their king. No one else gets a chance to sit close to the king.”

“Can you sing the gremlin king to sleep?” asked Myrtle.

“I have gone far and wide to learn the sweetest music of the world,” said the troubadour. “I can make the gremlin king fall asleep. I just hope the great crown will fall away from the gremlins’ circle.”

Myrtle smiled. “Maybe I can help. Take me with you. I have a plan that will get the crown away from the gremlins.”

The troubadour looked at Myrtle. Despite the extra weight of her large lovable body, he picked her up, packed her into his bag, and took her to his village.

That night the gremlins arrived. Their king wore a great crown of gold and silver with many sparkling gems. A great chair and footstool, both covered with lace, were waiting for the gremlin king. The other gremlins sat in a circle around their king. The feast began. The gremlins ate, and ate and ate, soups, meats, bread, vegetables, fruits, nuts, cakes, and pies. The gremlins ate every bite in sight. Then the gremlin king called for the troubadour. “Sing!!”

The troubadour sang the sweetest songs in all the world. The gremlin king nodded happily. Nodding, his eyes began to close. His chin sagged to his chest. The great crown slid a just little. Then it fell. Bang! The great crown hit the arm of the gremlin king's chair and bounced toward the floor.

That is when the footstool sprang to life, out popped four legs, a head and a tail. It was Myrtle!! She jumped up high. The great crown fell down onto Myrtle’s large lovable body. The crown of gold and silver and many sparkling gems fit Myrtle just like a girdle right around her big round middle.

Myrtle freed the troubadour’s village from the gremlin’s rule. The gremlins ran away and never came back. Myrtle wore the great crown as a beautiful girdle on her large lovable body for all of her days. Turtles live a long time, mind you. Who knows, she may be wearing it to this very day.

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