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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:46:12 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 01:46:12 -0700 |
| commit | d45715664b63fbf627ce1a126d080da7712d912a (patch) | |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/21844-h.zip b/21844-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f02c581 --- /dev/null +++ b/21844-h.zip diff --git a/21844-h/21844-h.htm b/21844-h/21844-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9b27848 --- /dev/null +++ b/21844-h/21844-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3553 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <link rel="schema.DC" href="http://dublincore.org/documents/1998/09/dces/" /> + <meta name="author" content="Arthur Scott Bailey" /> + <meta name="DC.Creator" content="Arthur Scott Bailey" /> + <meta name="DC.Title" content="The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot" /> + <meta name="DC.Date" content="2007" /> + <meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot, by Arthur Scott Bailey. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + @media print { + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; + text-align: right; color: gray; display: none; visibility: hidden; } + } + @media screen { + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: x-small; background-color: inherit; + text-align: right; color: gray; display: inline; visibility: visible;} + .pagenum a {text-decoration:none; color:#444;} + .pagenum a:hover {color:#F00;} + } + + div.frontmatter {max-width: 48em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + page-break-before: always; } + + body > p { text-align: justify; text-indent: .5em; + max-width: 40em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + p {margin-top: .33em; font-size: medium; margin-bottom: 0em;} + p.noindent {text-indent: 0em; text-align: justify;} + p.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} + p.titleblock {margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; text-indent: 0em; text-align: center; line-height: 125%;} + p.titleblockl {margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; text-indent: 2.25em; text-align: left; line-height: 125%;} + p.chapter {margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em; line-height: 100%;} + p.blockquot {text-indent: 0; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 10%;} + + h2+p, h3+p { text-indent: 0; } + + h1,h2,h3 {text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; page-break-after: avoid ! important;} + h1 {margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em; font-weight: 600;} + h2 {margin-top: 2em; clear: both; + word-spacing: 0.6em; letter-spacing: 0.2em; + font-weight: 500;} + h3 {margin-top: 1em; clear: both; font-weight: normal; + word-spacing: 0.2em; } + + hr {width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + + hr.chapter {width: 55%; margin-top: 5em; margin-bottom: 0em; page-break-before: always;} + hr.sorta {width: 45%; margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em;} + hr.minor {width: 30%; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + td.pr {text-align: right; padding-right: 10px; vertical-align: top;} + + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + .caption {font-size: 80%;} + img {border: none;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot, by Arthur Scott Bailey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot + Slumber-Town Tales + +Author: Arthur Scott Bailey + +Illustrator: Harry L. Smith + +Release Date: June 16, 2007 [EBook #21844] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT *** + + + + +Produced by Joe Longo and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; margin-bottom: 30px; margin-top: 30px;"> +<a name="illus-000-grande" id="illus-000-grande" href="images/cover-big.jpg"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="border: 2px solid; border-color: #333333;" width="400" height="589" +alt="Cover image for The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot" title="Front Cover" /> +</a> +</div> + +<h1>THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT</h1> + +<table width="400" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" + summary="Publisher" border="1" id="Table1"> +<tr><td> +<p class="titleblock" style="margin-top: 10px; font-size: 130%;"><i>SLUMBER-TOWN TALES</i></p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom: 8px;">(Trademark Registered)</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%;">BY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 110%; margin-bottom: 10px;">ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%;">AUTHOR OF</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 130%;"><i>SLEEPY-TIME TALES</i></p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom: 5px;">(Trademark Registered)</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 130%;"><i>TUCK-ME-IN TALES</i></p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; margin-bottom: 5px;">(Trademark Registered)</p> +<hr class="minor" /> +<p class="titleblockl"><span class="smcap">The Tale of the Muley Cow</span></p> +<p class="titleblockl"><span class="smcap">The Tale of Old Dog Spot</span></p> +<p class="titleblockl"><span class="smcap">The Tale of Grunty Pig</span></p> +<p class="titleblockl"><span class="smcap">The Tale of Henrietta Hen</span></p> +<p class="titleblockl"><span class="smcap">The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot</span></p> +<p class="titleblockl"><span class="smcap">The Tale of Pony Twinkleheels</span></p> +<p class="titleblockl" style="margin-bottom: 10px;"><span class="smcap">The Tale of Miss Kitty Cat</span></p> +</td></tr></table> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="illus-001" id="illus-001"></a> +<a name="illus-001-grande" id="illus-001-grande" href="images/illus-big-frontispiece.jpg"> +<img src="images/illus-frontispiece.jpg" width="400" height="604" +alt="The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot" title="The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot.</span> +<p style="font-size: 80%; text-align: right"><i>Frontispiece</i>—(<a href="#p_16"><i>Page</i> 16</a>)</p> +</div> + +<table width="400" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Title Page" border="1" id="Table2"><tr><td> +<p class="titleblock" style="margin-top: 2px; font-size: 130%; letter-spacing: 0.4em;"><i>SLUMBER-TOWN TALES</i></p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 70%; margin-bottom: 0px;">(Trademark Registered)</p> +<hr class="minor" /> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 215%;">THE TALE OF</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 255%; letter-spacing: 0.1em;"><span class="smcap">Turkey</span></p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 255%; letter-spacing: 0.1em; margin-bottom: 10px;"><span class="smcap">Proudfoot</span></p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%;">BY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 130%; margin-bottom: 5px;">ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%;">Author of</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%;">"SLEEPY-TIME TALES"</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 70%;">(Trademark Registered)</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 65%; margin-bottom: 3px;">AND</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%;">"TUCK-ME-IN TALES"</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 70%; margin-bottom: 50px;">(Trademark Registered)</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 60%;">ILLUSTRATED BY</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 100%; margin-bottom: 60px;">HARRY L. SMITH</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; letter-spacing: 0.1em;">NEW YORK</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 130%; letter-spacing: 0.4em;">GROSSET & DUNLAP</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 80%; letter-spacing: 0.2em; margin-bottom: 15px;">PUBLISHERS</p> +<p class="titleblock" style="font-size: 60%;">Made in the United States of America</p> +</td></tr></table> + +<p class="center"><br /><br /><br /><br /> + <span style="font-size: 80%;">Copyright, 1921, by</span><br /> +GROSSET & DUNLAP +<br /><br /></p> + + +<hr class="sorta" /> +<h3><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>CONTENTS</h3> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="75%" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents" id="Table3"> +<col style="width:20%;" /><col style="width:70%;" /><col style="width:10%;" /> +<tbody valign="top"> +<tr> + <td class="pr" style="font-size: small" >CHAPTER</td> <td align="left"> </td> + <td align="right" style="font-size: small">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">I</td><td align="left">A Strutter</td> <td align="right"><a href="#I">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">II</td><td align="left">The Silly Six</td> <td align="right"><a href="#II">6</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">III</td><td align="left">The Meddler</td> <td align="right"><a href="#III">11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">IV</td><td align="left">Scaring the Geese</td> <td align="right"><a href="#IV">16</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">V</td><td align="left">A Safe Perch</td> <td align="right"><a href="#V">20</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">VI</td><td align="left">The Mimic</td> <td align="right"><a href="#VI">25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">VII</td><td align="left">Half Wrong</td> <td align="right"><a href="#VII">30</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">VIII</td><td align="left">Hard to Please</td> <td align="right"><a href="#VIII">35</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">IX</td><td align="left">A Strange Gobble</td> <td align="right"><a href="#IX">39</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">X</td><td align="left">The Worm Turns</td> <td align="right"><a href="#X">45</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XI</td><td align="left">Bluster</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XI">50</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XII</td><td align="left">Mr. Crow's News</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XII">56</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XIII</td><td align="left">The New Pet</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XIII">61</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XIV</td><td align="left">A Proud Person</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XIV">66</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XV</td><td align="left">Mrs. Wren's Advice</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XV">71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XVI</td><td align="left">Drumming on a Log</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XVI">75</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XVII</td><td align="left">A Game Bird</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XVII">80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XVIII</td><td align="left">Red Lightning</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XVIII">85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XIX</td><td align="left">Night in the Woods</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XIX">90</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XX</td><td align="left">Beaks and Bills</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XX">95</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XXI</td><td align="left">Farmyard Manners</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XXI">100</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XXII</td><td align="left">Cranberry Sauce</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XXII">105</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XXIII</td><td align="left">Vacation Time</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XXIII">110</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td class="pr">XXIV</td><td align="left">Brother Tom</td> <td align="right"><a href="#XXIV">115</a></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> +</div> + + +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<div class="smcap"> +<table border="0" width="75%" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations"> +<col style="width:80%; padding-right: .5em;" /> <col style="width:20%;" /> +<tbody valign="top"> +<tr> +<td align="left">The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot.</td> +<td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#illus-001">Frontispiece</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot.</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#illus-002">40</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">The Peacock Ignores Turkey Proudfoot.</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#illus-003">64</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="left">Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat With Mr. Grouse.</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#illus-004">80</a></td> +</tr> +</tbody> +</table> +</div> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_1" id="p_1">p. 1</a></span></p> +<h2>THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT</h2> + + + +<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2> + +<h3>A STRUTTER</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">All</span> the hen turkeys thought Turkey +Proudfoot a wonderful creature. They +said he had the most beautiful tail on the +farm. When he spread it and strutted +about Farmer Green's place the hen +turkeys were sure to nudge one another +and say, "Ahem! Isn't he elegant?"</p> + +<p>But the rest of the farmyard folk made +quite different remarks about him. They +declared Turkey Proudfoot to be a silly, +vain gobbler, noisy and quarrelsome.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_2" id="p_2">p. 2</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, there was truth in what everybody +thought and said about this lordly person, +Turkey Proudfoot. He did have a huge +tail, when he chose to spread it; and his +feathers shone with a greenish, coppery, +bronzy glitter that might easily have +turned the head of anybody that boasted +such beautiful colors. Certainly the hen +turkeys turned their heads—and craned +their necks—whenever Turkey Proudfoot +came near them. And when he spoke to +them, saying "<i>Gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>" in +a loud tone, they were always pleased.</p> + +<p>The hen turkeys seemed to find that +remark, "<i>Gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>" highly +interesting. But everybody else complained +about the noise that Turkey +Proudfoot made, and said that if he must +gobble they wished he would go off by himself, +where people didn't have to listen to +him.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_3" id="p_3">p. 3</a></span></p> + +<p>And nobody but the hen turkeys liked +the way Turkey Proudfoot walked. At +every step he took he raised a foot high in +the air, acting for all the world as if the +ground wasn't good enough for him to +walk upon. And when he wasn't picking +up a seed, or a bit of grain, or an insect +off the ground, he held his head very high. +Often Turkey Proudfoot seemed to look +right past his farmyard neighbors, as if +he were gazing at something in the next +field and didn't see them. But they soon +learned that that was only an odd way of +his. Really, he saw about everything that +went on. If anybody happened to grin at +him Turkey Proudfoot was sure to take +notice at once and try to pick a quarrel.</p> + +<p>After all, perhaps it wasn't strange that +Turkey Proudfoot should act as he did. +Being the ruler of Farmer Green's whole +flock of turkeys, he was somewhat spoiled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_4" id="p_4">p. 4</a></span> +All the hen turkeys did about as he told +them to do. Or if they didn't, Turkey +Proudfoot thought that they obeyed his +orders. And the younger gobblers as +well had to mind him. If they didn't, +Turkey Proudfoot fought them until they +were ready to gobble for mercy.</p> + +<p>Having whipped the younger gobblers a +good many times, Turkey Proudfoot +firmly believed that he could whip anything +or anybody. And there was nobody +on the farm, almost, at whom he hadn't +dashed at least once. He had even attacked +Farmer Green. But Farmer +Green quickly taught him better. A blow +on the head from a stout stick bowled +Turkey Proudfoot over and he never tried +to fight Farmer Green again.</p> + +<p>That proved that Turkey Proudfoot +wasn't as empty-headed as some of his +neighbors thought him. It was possible<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_5" id="p_5">p. 5</a></span> +to get a lesson into his head, even if one +had to knock it into his skull with a club.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_6" id="p_6">p. 6</a></span></p> + + +<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2> + +<h3>THE SILLY SIX</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Farmer Green</span> owned six geese. Though +there was an even number of them, they +were odd creatures. They had little to do +with the other farmyard folk, but kept +much to themselves. If one of them +started up the road on some errand, the +other five always followed her. If one of +them suddenly took it into her head to enjoy +a swim her five companions were sure +to want one too, and waddled with her to +the duck pond.</p> + +<p>Now, Turkey Proudfoot never went +swimming. Like all the rest of the flock +over which he ruled, he thought swimming<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_7" id="p_7">p. 7</a></span> +was bad for one's health. He couldn't +understand how anybody could enjoy cold +water, except for drinking purposes. +And somehow he always felt as if his +feathers had been a bit ruffled whenever +he saw the six geese set out for the duck +pond. Although their taking a swim was +no affair of his, still it made him angry.</p> + +<p>"Look at those geese!" he would gobble +angrily to anybody that happened to be +near him. "They're going to take another +cold, wet bath. They're old enough +to know better. I often wonder why +Farmer Green wants such a stupid crew +on his farm. The Silly Six, I call 'em!"</p> + +<p>When Turkey Proudfoot talked in that +fashion there were some that didn't agree +with him. The ducks never failed to +quack their displeasure. And old Spot +sometimes growled and told him he'd be +the better for a good swim.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_8" id="p_8">p. 8</a></span></p> + +<p>But Turkey Proudfoot always declared, +in answer to that, that he knew he'd catch +his death of cold if he ever stepped into +the duck pond. And there were some of +the same mind as he.</p> + +<p>There was Miss Kitty Cat, who never +liked to get her feet wet and on stormy +days lay by the hour beneath the kitchen +stove and dozed.</p> + +<p>And there was the rooster. He didn't +believe in wet, cold baths. He liked dry +dust baths. And when, one day, Turkey +Proudfoot turned to him suddenly and +gobbled, "There go the Silly Six to swim!" +the rooster answered with a sniff, "Well, +let 'em go! Don't stop 'em on my account. +I certainly don't want to join +them."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot was all ready for a +quarrel. "I hope you don't think <i>I</i> want +to go swimming with the geese," he retorted.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_9" id="p_9">p. 9</a></span> +There was a dangerous glitter in +his eyes.</p> + +<p>Seeing this, the rooster made haste to +assure Turkey Proudfoot that he meant +nothing of the sort.</p> + +<p>"Don't let's quarrel!" the rooster cried—for +he was much smaller than Turkey +Proudfoot. "There's nothing for us to +quarrel about. We're of the same mind +about the geese and their swimming."</p> + +<p>"I'm disappointed," Turkey Proudfoot +told him. "For a moment I thought +I had an excuse for fighting you. And +I'm not sure that I oughtn't to be angry +with you for agreeing with me when I +didn't expect you to."</p> + +<p>The rooster gave a hoarse crow. He +thought Turkey Proudfoot was joking. +And being afraid of Turkey Proudfoot, +the rooster felt obliged to laugh loudly at +his jokes.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_10" id="p_10">p. 10</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't laugh at me!" Turkey Proudfoot +cried.</p> + +<p>"C-c-can't I laugh at the six silly +geese?" the rooster stammered.</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "Yes—if +you see anything funny about them. +For my part, I couldn't laugh at them if +I tried to. The mere thought of plunging +into cold water almost gives me a chill."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_11" id="p_11">p. 11</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2> + +<h3>THE MEDDLER</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Why</span> don't you tell the geese that it's +dangerous for them to swim in the duck +pond?" the rooster asked Turkey Proudfoot. +"Tell them how it almost gives you +a chill just to see them set out for the +pond. Ask them to keep out of the water."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot drew himself up to +his full height, spread his tail, and +looked down at the rooster with great disdain. +"Ask!" he exclaimed. "I never +ask anything of anybody. I'll have you +know, sir, that I give orders. And when +I give 'em I expect folks to obey 'em."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_12" id="p_12">p. 12</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good!" cried the rooster gayly. He +was really shaking in his shoes and didn't +intend to let Turkey Proudfoot know it. +"Order the geese to stay away from the +water. Command them to stop swimming. +If you don't, you'll have a terrible chill +some day when you see them set out for +the duck pond. And you don't want to be +ill just before the holidays."</p> + +<p>"That's true," said Turkey Proudfoot. +"I don't want to get a chill and be ill." +And then he turned suddenly upon the +startled rooster. "Look here!" cried +Turkey Proudfoot. "It seems to me that +<i>you</i> are giving <i>me</i> orders."</p> + +<p>"Not at all!" the rooster assured him. +"No, indeed! You're mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell me I'm mistaken!" Turkey +Proudfoot bawled in an angry, gobbly +voice. "I'm never mistaken."</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly not!" said the rooster,<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_13" id="p_13">p. 13</a></span> +who was bold as brass with most of his +neighbors, but very mild with Turkey +Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. +"You're getting yourself into a hole, sir! +If I wasn't mistaken, then you <i>were</i> giving +me orders. And in either case I +should have to fight you."</p> + +<p>This was too much for the rooster. He +couldn't grasp what Turkey Proudfoot +was saying. He only knew that things +looked bad for him because Turkey Proudfoot +was getting angrier every moment.</p> + +<p>"I say!" the rooster cried. "Please +don't waste your time on me just now, Mr. +Turkey Proudfoot! Here come the six +silly geese back from the duck pond. +And I'd suggest that you speak to them +at once and warn them not to enter the +water again."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot glanced across the<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_14" id="p_14">p. 14</a></span> +farmyard. It was as the rooster had said. +The six geese were waddling around a corner +of the barn in single file. Somehow +the sight of them made him so furious +that he forgot he had been picking a quarrel +with the rooster.</p> + +<p>"I'll attend to them," he gobbled. "I'll +fix them. They'll be so scared that they +won't dare leave this yard again."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot hurried towards the +geese. He didn't take time to strut, but +ran across the yard with long strides.</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly geese!" Turkey Proudfoot +called. "Keep away from the duck-pond! +The weather's getting colder every +day; and it makes me shiver to see you +start off for a swim."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot had supposed the six +geese would be very meek and most eager +to obey his commands. But to his great +surprise they stopped, wheeled about so<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_15" id="p_15">p. 15</a></span> +that they stood in a row, facing him, and +hissed loudly.</p> + +<p>It was not at all the sort of answer Turkey +Proudfoot had expected.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_16" id="p_16">p. 16</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2> + +<h3>SCARING THE GEESE</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> six geese stood in a row and hissed +at Turkey Proudfoot. He was so astonished +that any one of them could have +knocked him over with a feather, almost. +When he gobbled an order at them, telling +them not to go swimming again, the +geese hissed at him. That was just the +same as telling him to keep still and mind +his own affairs.</p> + +<p>And Turkey Proudfoot was not used to +answers like that.</p> + +<p>The rooster had followed him across the +farmyard in order to look on and listen +while Turkey Proudfoot spoke to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_17" id="p_17">p. 17</a></span> +geese. And his surprise was as great as +Turkey Proudfoot's.</p> + +<p>"Surely!" he muttered to Turkey +Proudfoot, "you aren't going to let these +geese go unpunished. They've insulted +you."</p> + +<p>"Ha! I <i>thought</i> they had," Turkey +Proudfoot exclaimed. "And I'm glad to +know that you agree with me. There's +no doubt that they deserve a severe beating."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" the rooster cried. "Now we'll +see some fun."</p> + +<p>"Yes!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I +expect we'll have a merry time." Still he +made no move to attack the geese, who +stood motionless, facing him like soldiers.</p> + +<p>"Well!" the rooster said impatiently. +"Aren't you going to punish these geese?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" Turkey Proudfoot +cried. "Why did you tag after me across<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_18" id="p_18">p. 18</a></span> +the yard if it wasn't to fight them? I've +often heard that you were usually spoiling +for a fight. So here's your chance!"</p> + +<p>It was true, in a way, that the rooster +was always ready to fight. Not one of the +cockerels on the farm dared to speak to +him. But he always took care to fight +only such as he knew he could whip. Certainly +he had no desire to fight six geese +all by himself. He drew back a little and +shook his head.</p> + +<p>"This is not my quarrel," he declared.</p> + +<p>"But you suggested it," Turkey Proudfoot +reminded him. "And now I suggest +that you take it up. I did my part. You +must do yours."</p> + +<p>A wild look came into the rooster's eyes. +He wanted to run away. But he was a +proud bird. He thought a great deal of +the <i>looks</i> of things. And he didn't know +just what to do.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_19" id="p_19">p. 19</a></span></p> + +<p>Then something happened that suddenly +made him act—and act quickly. +The six geese all took one step forward.</p> + +<p>The rooster turned tail and dashed +around the barn, out of sight. And Turkey +Proudfoot found himself facing the +six geese, who soon took one more step +towards him and hissed louder than ever.</p> + +<p>He had never felt so ill at ease in all his +life. But he remembered that he was the +ruler of the turkey flock and the handsomest +bird on the farm. It would never do +to have it said that he ran away from six +silly geese.</p> + +<p>"I'll scare 'em," he thought. Thereupon +he burst into a deafening gobble and +took one step towards the geese.</p> + +<p>He had fully expected to see them fall +back. What they actually did was most +annoying. Every one of them took another +step towards him.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_20" id="p_20">p. 20</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2> + +<h3>A SAFE PERCH</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">As</span> Turkey Proudfoot faced the six geese +in the farmyard he began to feel that he +had made a great mistake in speaking to +them. Their hisses were far from agreeable. +They were even threatening.</p> + +<p>"This will never do," Turkey Proudfoot +muttered to himself. "No doubt I +could whip all six of them; but they'd be +likely to pull some of my tail feathers out. +And I don't want my tail spoiled." For +a moment or two he didn't know what to +do. But suddenly an idea popped into his +head.</p> + +<p>"Follow me!" he ordered the geese.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_21" id="p_21">p. 21</a></span> +And wheeling about, he marched off across +the farmyard.</p> + +<p>The geese waddled after him.</p> + +<p>Perched on top of a wagon wheel in +front of the barn, the rooster saw the odd +procession. And he gave voice loudly to +his delight.</p> + +<p>"The geese are chasing Turkey Proudfoot!" +he crowed. He called to everybody +to hurry and see the fun. And all +the hens came a-running.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" said Turkey Proudfoot. +"I ordered the geese to follow me. +They're simply obeying orders." And he +strutted, a little faster than usual, toward +the tree near the farmhouse where he +roosted every night.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" he cried to the geese when they +reached the tree. As he spoke, Turkey +Proudfoot flapped himself up and settled +on a low branch. At last he felt safe.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_22" id="p_22">p. 22</a></span> +He knew that the geese wouldn't follow +him up there. With their webbed feet +they never roosted in trees.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the hen turkeys had come +a-running too, from the meadow. They +wanted to see what was going on. And +they promptly fell into a loud dispute with +the rooster and the hens.</p> + +<p>"He did!" the hens cackled, meaning +that Turkey Proudfoot had run away +from the geese.</p> + +<p>"He didn't!" the hen turkeys squalled, +meaning that Turkey Proudfoot hadn't +been chased, but had <i>led</i> the geese across +the farmyard.</p> + +<p>The six geese took no part in the quarrel. +They had driven Turkey Proudfoot +into the tree. And knowing that he +wouldn't come down so long as they +waited there, they marched off in single +file toward the duck pond.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_23" id="p_23">p. 23</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" the rooster +asked them.</p> + +<p>The leader of the geese turned her head +at him and hissed. And her five companions +turned their heads at him too, and +hissed likewise.</p> + +<p>"I ordered them to go and have a +swim," Turkey Proudfoot cried from his +tree, as soon as the geese were out of hearing. +"I don't want them about the farmyard. +I haven't time to bother with them. +Besides, they're so stupid that I never +could teach them anything. I walked +ahead of them, across the farmyard, to +show them the stylish strut. But they +couldn't learn it. They'll waddle to the +end of their days."</p> + +<p>"There!" cried the hen turkeys to the +hens. "You hear what he says. The +geese weren't chasing him. He was trying +to teach them to strut."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_24" id="p_24">p. 24</a></span></p> + +<p>"Huh!" exclaimed Henrietta Hen, who +always spoke her mind right out. "Turkey +Proudfoot had better be careful. +Some day those geese will teach him how +to waddle."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_25" id="p_25">p. 25</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2> + +<h3>THE MIMIC</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Young</span> Master Meadow Mouse had often +peeped at Turkey Proudfoot from behind +a clump of grass, or a hill of corn. But +he had never dared show himself to Turkey +Proudfoot. Somehow the old gobbler +looked terribly fierce. And he was +so big that Master Meadow Mouse didn't +like the idea of even saying "Good day!" +to him. He had heard Turkey Proudfoot +spoken of as a "gobbler." Who knew but +that a gobbler would gobble up young +Master Meadow Mouse if he had a chance?</p> + +<p>Unseen by everybody, Master Meadow +Mouse had watched the geese drive Turkey<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_26" id="p_26">p. 26</a></span> +Proudfoot across the farmyard and +seen him flapping up to roost in a tree out +of their reach. And though Turkey +Proudfoot strutted and tried to act very +lordly as he headed the procession across +the yard, Master Meadow Mouse had noticed +how Turkey Proudfoot kept a wary +eye on the geese behind him, and stepped +not quite so high as he usually did, but +further.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" Master Meadow Mouse had +piped to himself in his thin voice. "Turkey +Proudfoot is not the brave fellow I +always thought him. He's afraid of +geese!"</p> + +<p>From that moment Master Meadow +Mouse forgot his fear of Turkey Proudfoot. +Nobody stands in awe of a coward. +So the very next time that Master +Meadow Mouse saw Turkey Proudfoot +strutting in the yard he crept up behind<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_27" id="p_27">p. 27</a></span> +Turkey Proudfoot and tried to walk exactly +like him.</p> + +<p>There were a good many farmyard fowls +scratching about the yard at the time, +and wishing to appear at his best, Turkey +Proudfoot spread his tail, puffed out +his chest, and strolled all around as if he—and +and not Farmer Green—owned the place.</p> + +<p>Although Turkey Proudfoot seemed to +see none of his neighbors, nevertheless he +was watching them carefully out of the +corner of his eye, to see whether they were +noticing him.</p> + +<p>They were. There was no doubt of +that.</p> + +<p>Not only were they looking at him; they +were laughing at him as well.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot's face couldn't grow +red with rage. It was red already. It +was always red. Being very angry, he +gobbled at the giggling hens, at the rooster,<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_28" id="p_28">p. 28</a></span> +even at old dog Spot, "Why are you +laughing at me?"</p> + +<p>"We aren't!" they cried. "You've no +reason to be angry with us."</p> + +<p>"'Tis well," said Turkey Proudfoot +with a toplofty toss of his bald head. +"Since you're not laughing at me, you +needn't laugh at all. I don't like your +sniggering."</p> + +<p>"We can't help laughing," a few of the +more daring ones told him. "It's so +funny!"</p> + +<p>"What is?"</p> + +<p>"He is!"</p> + +<p>"Who is?"</p> + +<p>"Master Meadow Mouse!"</p> + +<p>"Master Meadow Mouse!" repeated +Turkey Proudfoot in a bewildered fashion.</p> + +<p>He looked in front of him. He looked +to the left. He looked to the right. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_29" id="p_29">p. 29</a></span> +couldn't see Master Meadow Mouse anywhere.</p> + +<p>"Look behind you!" cried Henrietta +Hen.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot turned his head.</p> + +<p>"I don't see any Master Meadow +Mouse," he grumbled.</p> + +<p>"How can you, when your tail's spread +like that?" Henrietta Hen asked him. +"Close up your tail and then you'll see +what we're laughing at."</p> + +<p>But Turkey Proudfoot declined to do +anything of the sort.</p> + +<p>"It's just a trick," he squalled. +"You're all jealous of me and my beautiful +tail. You don't want me to carry my +tail this way."</p> + +<p>Behind Turkey Proudfoot's tail Master +Meadow Mouse did a very naughty thing. +He stuck out his tongue. And all the onlookers +shrieked with merriment.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_30" id="p_30">p. 30</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2> + +<h3>HALF WRONG</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was no wonder that Turkey Proudfoot +was angry. Everybody in the farmyard +was laughing and looking his way—or so +it seemed to him.</p> + +<p>Since he couldn't see any joke, he decided +to leave his silly neighbors and go +off into the fields where he could be alone. +So he walked slowly away, holding his +head high and stepping in his most elegant +manner.</p> + +<p>To his great disgust peals of laughter +followed him. And though he had intended +to march off without saying a word, +this last outburst so filled him with rage<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_31" id="p_31">p. 31</a></span> +that he couldn't resist spinning about to +glare and gobble at his tormentors.</p> + +<p>He turned so quickly that he surprised +Master Meadow Mouse with one of his +tiny feet lifted high in the air. He surprised +him so much that Master Meadow +Mouse stood stock still and didn't even +bring his foot down, but held it off the +ground as if it had frozen stiff and couldn't +be moved.</p> + +<p>At first there was a most joyful look on +Master Meadow Mouse's face. But it +faded instantly into one of doubt and dismay. +To tell the truth, Master Meadow +Mouse hadn't expected Turkey Proudfoot +to turn around and catch him right +in his mimicking act.</p> + +<p>"Ah, ha!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. +"So it's you that they're laughing at, eh?"</p> + +<p>Master Meadow Mouse was so upset that +he murmured faintly, "Yes, it's me."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_32" id="p_32">p. 32</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I don't blame them," said Turkey +Proudfoot. "You certainly look +very queer. Why are you holding your +foot off the ground like that?"</p> + +<p>"I was in the midst of taking a step +when you turned around and startled me," +Master Meadow Mouse explained. "And +I don't know whether to set my foot down +ahead of me, or to put it behind me."</p> + +<p>"Don't be alarmed!" Turkey Proudfoot +said. "I never fight folks of your +size. You're too little for me to pay much +attention to. I must say, however, that +you have a very odd way of walking."</p> + +<p>By this time Master Meadow Mouse had +recovered from his surprise and wasn't +afraid in the least. Now he laughed +heartily.</p> + +<p>"I was walking the way you walk," he +cried.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_33" id="p_33">p. 33</a></span> +"No, indeed! You certainly +weren't." He didn't ask Master Meadow +Mouse's pardon for contradicting.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know why I wasn't," Master +Meadow Mouse replied somewhat +hotly. "I was strutting right behind you, +all the way across the yard. That's why +everybody was giggling."</p> + +<p>"It's no wonder they were poking fun +at you," Turkey Proudfoot told him. +"You amused the neighbors because you +thought you were strutting, while you +really weren't."</p> + +<p>Master Meadow Mouse put his foot +down on the ground. He was puzzled.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why I wasn't strutting," +he retorted. "I was raising my feet just +as high as I could lift them."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes?" said Turkey Proudfoot. +"But you forgot one thing."</p> + +<p>"What was that?"</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_34" id="p_34">p. 34</a></span></p> + +<p>"You didn't spread your tail," Turkey +Proudfoot explained. "And that's half +of strutting."</p> + +<p>"I—I didn't know it," Master Meadow +Mouse stammered. And then he darted +away, to hide in the grass beyond the +fence.</p> + +<p>He felt much ashamed to have made +such a mistake.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_35" id="p_35">p. 35</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> + +<h3>HARD TO PLEASE</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was very hard to please Turkey Proudfoot. +To be sure, he always pleased himself. +But nothing anyone else did seemed +to suit him. And there was one thing +that always made him peevish. That was +the gobbling of the younger turkey cocks.</p> + +<p>To anybody that wasn't a turkey, their +voices sounded just as sweet as Turkey +Proudfoot's. But he claimed that there +was something wrong with all gobbles except +his own. Either they were too loud +or too soft, too high or too low, too long +or too short. And whenever a young cock +gobbled in his hearing Turkey Proudfoot<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_36" id="p_36">p. 36</a></span> +was sure to rush up to him and order him +to keep still, for pity's sake!</p> + +<p>They usually obeyed him. Not only +was Turkey Proudfoot the biggest gobbler +on the farm, but he had a fierce and lordly +look about him. It was a bold young turkey +cock that dared defy him. Once in a +while one of them foolishly ventured to +tell Turkey Proudfoot to mind his own affairs. +And then there was sure to be a +fight—a quick, short, noisy fray which +ended always in the same fashion, with +Turkey Proudfoot chasing the young cock +out of the farmyard.</p> + +<p>Luckily for the youngsters, they could +run faster than he could, for they were +not nearly as heavy.</p> + +<p>Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like +to hear others gobble, nevertheless he enjoyed +the excuse for a fight that their gobbling +gave him. And when he had nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_37" id="p_37">p. 37</a></span> +more important to do he often stood +still and listened in the hope of hearing +some upstart gobbler testing his voice in +a neighboring field. Newly grown cocks +had to go a long way off to be safe from +Turkey Proudfoot's attacks.</p> + +<p>One day in the middle of the summer +the lord of the turkey flock was feeding +behind the barn when a loud gobble +brought his head up with a jerk.</p> + +<p>"Ha!" Turkey Proudfoot cried. +"That's somebody in the yard, around the +barn. He thinks I'm further away than +this, or he'd never dare bawl like that."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot dashed around the +barn at a swift trot. He was surprised +to see not a turkey cock in the farmyard. +The rooster was there, however. And +Turkey Proudfoot eyed him sternly.</p> + +<p>"You weren't trying to gobble a moment +ago, were you?" he inquired.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_38" id="p_38">p. 38</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, indeed!" said the rooster.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot looked puzzled.</p> + +<p>"Somebody gobbled," he declared. +"I'm sure the noise came from this yard. +I was behind the barn when I heard it. +And I hurried around the corner at once."</p> + +<p>"Maybe the person that gobbled ran +around the other end of the barn, to dodge +you," the rooster suggested.</p> + +<p>"I'll go and see," said Turkey Proudfoot. +And he went back where he came +from.</p> + +<p>He found nobody there. But that annoying +gobble sounded again and brought +him back into the yard even faster than +before. "Who did that?" he squalled.</p> + +<p>And somebody mocked him. Somebody +repeated his question after him. It +was the same voice that had gobbled.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot's rage was terrible +to see.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_39" id="p_39">p. 39</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2> + +<h3>A STRANGE GOBBLE</h3> + + +<p>"<i><span class="smcap">Gobble</span>, gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>"</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot stood in the farmyard +and craned his neck in every direction. +That sound certainly was close at +hand. Yet there wasn't a turkey cock +anywhere in sight, either on the ground +or in the trees.</p> + +<p>Just for a moment Turkey Proudfoot +was worried.</p> + +<p>"That wasn't <i>my</i> gobble, was it?" he +asked the rooster. "If I gobbled, I didn't +know it."</p> + +<p>"No! You didn't gobble," said the +rooster, "though I must say that gobbling<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_40" id="p_40">p. 40</a></span> +sounded a good deal like yours."</p> + +<p>"<i>Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>"</p> + +<p>"There it goes again!" cried Turkey +Proudfoot. He was almost frantic. +"How can I fight that fellow if I can't see +him?" he cried. He looked up at the roof +of the barn; but there was no one there except +the gilded rooster that told which +way the wind blew. He looked up at the +roof of the farmhouse.</p> + +<p>"You don't suppose that fellow's hiding +in the chimney, do you?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No doubt he is," said the rooster. "If +I were you I'd fly up there and catch him."</p> + +<p>"The roof's high for one of my weight +to fly to," Turkey Proudfoot remarked.</p> + +<p>"Still, I could flap up to the top of the +woodshed and get to the roof of the +house from there.... I'll take a look +and see how high the house seems when +I'm near it."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="illus-002" id="illus-002"></a> +<a name="illus-002-grande" id="illus-002-grande" href="images/illus-big-p42.jpg"> +<img src="images/illus-p42.jpg" width="400" height="613" +alt="Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot's Gobble" title="Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot's Gobble" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot's Gobble</span> +<p style="font-size: 80%; text-align: right">(<a href="#p_42"><i>Page</i> 42</a>)</p> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_41" id="p_41">p. 41</a></span></p> + +<p>To the rooster's delight, Turkey Proudfoot +started towards the house. The rooster +promptly called to all the hens to +"come quick," because Turkey Proudfoot +was going to fly to the roof of the +farmhouse. "I hope he won't get into +trouble," said the rooster with a chuckle. +"It would be a pity if he fell down the +chimney."</p> + +<p>In spite of his words, the rooster didn't +look at all uneasy. Indeed, the only thing +that worried him was the fear that Turkey +Proudfoot <i>wouldn't</i> get himself into a +scrape. But he thought it more polite not +to say exactly what he hoped.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot stalked up to the +farmhouse and stopped near the piazza. +He was gazing upwards and measuring the +height of the roof with his eye when all at +once a loud "<i>Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>" +almost tipped him over backward.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_42" id="p_42">p. 42</a></span></p> + +<p>The outcry came from the farmhouse. +There was no doubt of that. But it didn't +come from the roof, nor the chimney.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot stared at the windows +and the doors and saw no one except +Miss Kitty Cat, dozing on a window sill. +Then something moved beneath the piazza +ceiling. It was a cage, which swayed as +a green figure clung to the wires on one +side of it.</p> + +<p>"I'm a handsome bird," a voice informed +Turkey Proudfoot. "<i>Gobble, +gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>"</p> + +<p>For once in his life Turkey Proudfoot +hadn't a word to say. For the moment he +was struck dumb.</p> + +<p>At last he found his voice. "Who are +you?" he bellowed.</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"Don't laugh at me!" cried Turkey +Proudfoot.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_43" id="p_43">p. 43</a></span></p> + +<p>"Polly wants a cracker," said the green +bird.</p> + +<p>A few quick steps brought Turkey +Proudfoot upon the piazza, nearer the +cage where the annoying green person +swung and made queer, throaty noises—sounds +which only angered Turkey Proud +foot the more.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot took a little run and +rose into the air, to crash against the cage +and then fall flapping upon the piazza +floor.</p> + +<p>The green person shrieked. And the +hired man, with an axe in his hand, +peered out of the woodshed door.</p> + +<p>"Here, you old gobbler! You leave +our Polly alone!" he called. And he ran +out and gave Turkey Proudfoot a sharp +rap with the axe helve.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot ran off and hid behind +the barn and sulked.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_44" id="p_44">p. 44</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's a bird around here," he muttered, +"that mocks Miss Kitty Cat; and +they call him a Cat Bird. Now, here's a +bird that mocks me; so I should think +they'd call him a Turkey Bird. But they +don't. I heard the hired man call him +Pretty Polly.</p> + +<p>"Pretty Polly indeed!" Turkey Proudfoot +sniffed. "That creature is nothing +but a bunch of green feathers and a loud +voice."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_45" id="p_45">p. 45</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2> + +<h3>THE WORM TURNS</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Henrietta Hen</span> had no love for Turkey +Proudfoot. Beginning with the days of +her chickenhood he had always ordered +her about, telling her not to do this and +not to do that. Even after she was grown +up and had a family of her own, Turkey +Proudfoot treated her as if she had just +begun to scratch for herself.</p> + +<p>If Henrietta Hen found a spot where +somebody had spilled a few kernels of +corn Turkey Proudfoot was more than +likely to rush up to her and cry, "Go +away! I've had my eye on that corn for +some time. I saw it first."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_46" id="p_46">p. 46</a></span></p> + +<p>On such occasions there was nothing +Henrietta Hen could do except to stand +aside and look on while Turkey Proudfoot +ate the corn. He was so much bigger +than she that he could bowl her over +easily.</p> + +<p>On her own account Henrietta didn't +really think it worth while to try to make +any trouble for Turkey Proudfoot. But +when she led her first brood of chicks into +the yard to teach them to find food for +themselves, Turkey Proudfoot's lordly +ways made her very angry.</p> + +<p>"Move your family over on the gravel +drive!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered her.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen said flatly that she +wouldn't.</p> + +<p>"There are no bugs—no worms—in the +gravel," she told him. "My chicks have +a right to go anywhere on this farm."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot looked at her in<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_47" id="p_47">p. 47</a></span> +amazement. Never before had Henrietta +Hen spoken to him in such a way.</p> + +<p>"Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed. "Aren't +you forgetting your manners, Henrietta?"</p> + +<p>"No, I'm not!" she snapped. "I've +stood too much from you all my life. I +warn you now that the worm has turned."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot glanced quickly +down at the ground.</p> + +<p>"Where's the worm?" he asked. +"Point him out to me before he gets +away."</p> + +<p>"There!" cried Henrietta Hen. +"That's just like you. If anybody spies +a worm, you think you ought to have it."</p> + +<p>"Come! come!" Turkey Proudfoot +coaxed her. "Don't let's quarrel over a +mere trifle such as a worm. Just you +show me where you saw him turn and I'll +show you how to snatch a worm up in the +neatest and quickest fashion."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_48" id="p_48">p. 48</a></span></p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen tossed her handsome +head.</p> + +<p>"The worm I was talking about is right +before you," she sniffed. "If you can't +see it, I shan't help you."</p> + +<p>Of course she had been talking of herself +when she remarked that the worm +had turned. She had meant that she had +always allowed Turkey Proudfoot to treat +her like a worm under his feet. But at +last she had made up her mind that he +shouldn't order her about any longer.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Turkey Proudfoot was fast +losing his temper.</p> + +<p>"You've caused me to lose a fine, fat +worm; and you shall suffer for it!" he +scolded. "The only thing for you to do +is to offer me a fine, fat chick in its place."</p> + +<p>At that Henrietta Hen set up a great +clamor.</p> + +<p>"I'll do nothing of the sort!" she<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_49" id="p_49">p. 49</a></span> +shrieked. And then she screamed for the +rooster. "Come quick, Mr. Rooster! +Help! Help!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_50" id="p_50">p. 50</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2> + +<h3>BLUSTER</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Soon</span> after Henrietta Hen shrieked for +the rooster he came hurrying around a +corner of the barn. When he saw Turkey +Proudfoot towering above Henrietta and +her new brood of chicks in the middle of +the farmyard he stopped short. To tell +the truth, the rooster was afraid of Turkey +Proudfoot and usually took pains to +keep out of his way.</p> + +<p>"Go back!" Turkey Proudfoot called +to him. "You're not needed here. +There's been a little difficulty; but I can +settle it myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well!" the rooster replied.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_51" id="p_51">p. 51</a></span> +"I'm glad there's no great trouble. +When I heard Henrietta calling me I +thought she was in danger." He turned, +then, to slink away behind the barn.</p> + +<p>"Don't desert me!" Henrietta Hen besought +him. "Help! Help!"</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot waved a wing at the +rooster.</p> + +<p>"Don't pay any attention to her!" he +said. "She's excited. I'll have her +calmed down in no time."</p> + +<p>"Of course I'm excited!" Henrietta +Hen cried. "Don't let him deceive you, +Mr. Rooster! He's been threatening +me!"</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot bade her, in an undertone, +to be quiet.</p> + +<p>"Go along about your business," he +told the rooster. "She's mistaken. I +haven't said I'd harm her."</p> + +<p>"No! But he's talking about eating<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_52" id="p_52">p. 52</a></span> +one of my chicks! And that's worse," +Henrietta screamed. "If you're as +brave as I always supposed, Mr. Rooster, +you'll defend my family."</p> + +<p>Although the rooster was terribly +frightened, and wanted to run away, he +simply couldn't desert Henrietta Hen.</p> + +<p>"She's a nuisance," he muttered as he +marched across the farmyard. "I don't +see why she wanted to bring her chicks +out here where Turkey Proudfoot would +see them. She's landed me in a scrape. +There won't be much left of me when that +old gobbler gets through with me."</p> + +<p>Nevertheless the rooster put on a bold +front. Drawing himself up to look his +tallest, he glared at Turkey Proudfoot +and said shrilly, "What do you mean by +annoying this lady?"</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot gulped. He wondered +what had come over his neighbors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_53" id="p_53">p. 53</a></span> +The rooster had always acted afraid of +him. Though small, the rooster was +strongly built. And he had a sharp bill +and sharp spurs, too. Turkey Proudfoot +noted these details carefully.</p> + +<p>"I won't have to fight him," he thought. +"I'll behave so fiercely that the rooster +will be glad to run off. And then I'll run +after him so folks will think I am chasing +him."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot then began to +bluster. He gobbled loudly, without saying +anything at all. He even made a few +quick passes at the rooster with his bill.</p> + +<p>To his dismay, the rooster merely +dodged. He didn't turn tail and run, as +Turkey Proudfoot had hoped he would.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to try something else," +Turkey Proudfoot said to himself. So +he flapped his wings and jumped up and +down and around the rooster.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_54" id="p_54">p. 54</a></span></p> + +<p>The rooster was very ill at ease. But +he didn't let Turkey Proudfoot know +that. He kept turning about, so that he +faced Turkey Proudfoot all the time. +And he said to Henrietta Hen: "Gather +your chicks and get them out of the way. +There's going to be trouble here."</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen obeyed him without a +word. And she had no sooner shooed her +youngsters into the chicken house than +Turkey Proudfoot gave a loud laugh—a +somewhat forced, yet loud laugh.</p> + +<p>"You're just the sort of bird I like," +he told the rooster. "I've been testing +you to see if you were brave. I'm delighted +to find that you are. And I suggest +that you and I stand by each other +and run things in this yard to suit ourselves. +When folks don't do as I tell +them to, you and I will attend to them."</p> + +<p>"Agreed!" cried the rooster. He was<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_55" id="p_55">p. 55</a></span> +greatly flattered. "We'll make the +neighbors step lively." And off he went, +to find Henrietta Hen and tell her how he +and Turkey Proudfoot were going to help +each other.</p> + +<p>"You're even sillier than I supposed," +she informed the rooster, to his great astonishment. +He had expected nothing +but praise from her.</p> + +<p>He left her hurriedly. And he felt +quite glum.</p> + +<p>"She's just like the whole Hen family," +he grumbled. "You never can tell what +they're going to do or what they're going +to say. They may squawk and cross the +road; they may cross the road and not +squawk; they may squawk and not cross +the road; they may not cross the road and +not squawk. I don't believe they know +themselves what they are going to do +next."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_56" id="p_56">p. 56</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2> + +<h3>MR. CROW'S NEWS</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was no denying that the rooster at +Farmer Green's place had handsome tail +feathers. But they were as nothing, compared +with Turkey Proudfoot's. Not +only were the rooster's fewer in number; +but he couldn't spread them, fan-fashion.</p> + +<p>Mr. Grouse, who lived in the woods, beyond +the pasture, could spread his tail. +But he was a much smaller bird than +Turkey Proudfoot and his tail wasn't +nearly as big.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot often remarked that +he had no rival. To be sure, there were +young gobblers on the farm. But in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_57" id="p_57">p. 57</a></span> +matter of tails, Turkey Proudfoot outshone +them all.</p> + +<p>Farmer Green once had another turkey +cock that bade fair to have as fine a tail +as Turkey Proudfoot's. And for a time +this gentleman made Turkey Proudfoot +feel a bit uneasy.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to fight him and pull out some +of his tail feathers," Turkey Proudfoot +decided.</p> + +<p>But on the very day, in the fall, when +Turkey Proudfoot intended to pick a +quarrel with this person—and spoil his +fatal beauty—he was missing. And oddly +enough, nobody ever saw him around the +farmyard again.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot went so far as to +hint that he had scared the fellow away. +Not many believed that that was what happened, +however. For old dog Spot +claimed to have seen one of the missing<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_58" id="p_58">p. 58</a></span> +gobbler's wings hanging in the kitchen of +the farmhouse.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Green uses it for a brush," Spot +had explained.</p> + +<p>When he heard that story Turkey +Proudfoot exclaimed, "Nonsense! A +Fox's tail is a brush. But a Turkey's +wing is a wing. Old dog Spot doesn't +know what he's talking about. No doubt +Mrs. Green has a Fox's brush hanging up +beside her kitchen range."</p> + +<p>Still, most of the farmyard folks insisted +that the missing gobbler had met +with an accident. Anyhow, the question +as to what had become of him didn't +trouble Turkey Proudfoot. The fellow +was gone. And there wasn't another +young gobbler on the farm that was likely +to have a tail out of the ordinary. So +Turkey Proudfoot was content.</p> + +<p>His peace of mind lasted only a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_59" id="p_59">p. 59</a></span> +days. He was ranging through the +meadow one morning when he heard a +great commotion in the farmyard. Old +Mr. Crow soon came sailing over from the +edge of the woods to see what was the +matter. And after a while he went sailing +back again. On his way he stopped +to drop down into the meadow and speak +to Turkey Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>"You ought to hurry home," Mr. Crow +croaked. "Johnnie Green has a new pet. +You ought to see him."</p> + +<p>"Johnnie Green's pets don't interest +me," Turkey Proudfoot sniffed. "He's +never owned a pet yet that had a tail worth +looking at twice. As for his Guinea Pigs—well, +they haven't tails that you could +look at even once. They haven't any tails +at all. I must say I don't admire Johnnie +Green's taste in pets," said Turkey +Proudfoot.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_60" id="p_60">p. 60</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah! This one is different," Mr. +Crow told him with a hoarse laugh. +"When you see his tail you'll fold yours +up in a hurry. And you'll never spread +it again."</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. +"Impossible!" He was so angry +with Mr. Crow that he couldn't say anything +more.</p> + +<p>For all that, he strode away towards +the farmyard. And he had a most uneasy +feeling under his wishbone.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_61" id="p_61">p. 61</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2> + +<h3>THE NEW PET</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Turkey Proudfoot</span> came hurrying back +to the farmyard from the meadow where +Mr. Crow had stopped and advised him to +go home and see Johnnie Green's new pet.</p> + +<p>When Turkey Proudfoot scurried +around the barn he found everybody all +a-flutter. No one paid any attention to +Turkey Proudfoot, though he spread his +tail and strutted up to his neighbors with +a most important air.</p> + +<p>"What's going on here?" Turkey +Proudfoot demanded in his most lordly +tone.</p> + +<p>Henrietta Hen went out of her way to<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_62" id="p_62">p. 62</a></span> +answer him. "Johnnie Green has a new +pet," she explained. "He's a wonderful +creature."</p> + +<p>"I don't think much of him," said the +rooster. He had a surly look, as if something—perhaps +a pebble—had stuck in +his crop.</p> + +<p>"I can't quite swallow this new pet," +the rooster told Turkey Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>"Ah! You haven't seen him with his +tail spread!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. +"His tail is simply gorgeous."</p> + +<p>His tail! That was exactly what old +Mr. Crow had mentioned. "Oh, well!" +Turkey Proudfoot thought. "I'm foolish +to be stirred up over this affair. The +new pet's tail can't be as grand as mine. +There's nothing for me to worry about."</p> + +<p>But there was. What Henrietta Hen +said with her next breath made Turkey +Proudfoot miserable.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_63" id="p_63">p. 63</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'd better put down your tail," she +advised him.</p> + +<p>"Put down my tail!" he squawked. +"Anybody would think you were talking +about an umbrella. What's wrong with +my tail, madam? I hope you don't think +I'm ashamed of it."</p> + +<p>"I fear you will be, when you see +Johnnie Green's new pet," Henrietta Hen +rattled on. "You'll want to hide your +tail then."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" cried Turkey Proudfoot +sternly. "You have said too much."</p> + +<p>"Good!" the rooster chimed in. "I +agree with you. She always talks too +much." Once such a remark about Henrietta +Hen would have made the rooster +angry. Now, however, it pleased him.</p> + +<p>"I know what's the matter with you," +Henrietta Hen told the rooster. "Your +nose is out of joint."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_64" id="p_64">p. 64</a></span></p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said the rooster. +"My nose—and by that no doubt you mean +my bill—is <i>not</i> out of joint."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes it is!" she insisted. "And +Turkey Proudfoot's will be out of joint +too, as soon as he sees the newcomer."</p> + +<p>"Where is he?" Turkey Proudfoot suddenly +demanded. "Let me have a look at +him! I'll soon show <i>him</i> whether there's +anything wrong with my bill." He +puffed himself up and looked very fierce.</p> + +<p>To his amazement, Henrietta Hen only +laughed.</p> + +<p>"Tell that to the new pet!" she said. +"You'll find him in front of the farmhouse."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot didn't thank her. +He was so angry that he was almost choking. +And he strode off with a gleam in +his eyes that the younger gobblers knew +only too well—and feared.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="illus-003" id="illus-003"></a> +<a name="illus-003-grande" id="illus-003-grande" href="images/illus-big-p67.jpg"> +<img src="images/illus-p67.jpg" width="400" height="610" +alt="The Peacock Ignores Turkey Proudfoot" title="The Peacock Ignores Turkey Proudfoot" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">The Peacock Ignores Turkey Proudfoot</span> +<p style="font-size: 80%; text-align: right">(<a href="#p_67"><i>Page</i> 67</a>)</p> +</div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_65" id="p_65">p. 65</a></span></p> + +<p>On the lawn before Farmer Green's +house Turkey Proudfoot saw such a +sight as he had never expected to behold. +A big bird stood proudly on the grass plot, +looking for all the world as if he owned +not only the house, but the whole farm. +His colors were like the blues and greens +of a rainbow. And behind him he carried +aloft a tail that made Turkey Proudfoot +all but ill with envy.</p> + +<p>"Who-who-who is this person?" +Turkey Proudfoot gasped, turning to old +dog Spot.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know?" said Spot. "He's +Johnnie Green's new pet. He's the Peacock."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_66" id="p_66">p. 66</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> + +<h3>A PROUD PERSON</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> peacock in front of the farmhouse +paid no heed to Turkey Proudfoot, but +moved very slowly and very haughtily +about the lawn. His huge tail was spread +like a sail. In the light summer breeze +it swayed and rippled, sending out a thousand +shimmering gleams. And on his tail +were dozens of eyes. At least they looked +like eyes to Turkey Proudfoot. And they +all seemed to be trying to out-stare him.</p> + +<p>For a minute or two Turkey Proudfoot +glared at this newcomer—this new pet of +Johnnie Green's. Then, after first +spreading his own tail to its fullest size,<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_67" id="p_67">p. 67</a></span> +he swaggered up to the peacock.</p> + +<p>"You needn't pretend not to see me," +Turkey Proudfoot gobbled. "You can't +fool me. You've a hundred eyes on your +tail. And they've been looking at me +steadily."</p> + +<p>The peacock calmly turned his head and +glanced at Turkey Proudfoot. He did +not answer.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot thrust his own head +forward.</p> + +<p>"Maybe I'm not good enough for you +to speak to," he began. "Maybe I'm not +enough of a dandy—"</p> + +<p>Just then somebody interrupted him. +It was Henrietta Hen. Being a prying +sort of person she had followed Turkey +Proudfoot around the house to see what +happened when he and the newcomer met.</p> + +<p>"Don't be rude to this gentleman," said +Henrietta Hen. "He hasn't spoken<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_68" id="p_68">p. 68</a></span> +since he arrived in the wagon an hour ago. +We've about decided that he is dumb. +And it's a great pity if he is. No doubt +his voice—if he had one—would be as +beautiful as his tail."</p> + +<p>At that the peacock opened his mouth. +Out of it there came the harshest sounds +that had ever been heard on the farm. +Turkey Proudfoot was so startled that he +threw his head into the air and took several +steps backward. As for Henrietta +Hen, she cackled in terror and ran out of +the yard and crossed the road, where she +narrowly escaped being run over by a +passing wagon.</p> + +<p>"My goodness!" Turkey Proudfoot +thought. "It's no wonder this Peacock +doesn't talk much. If I had a voice like +his I'd never use it." He didn't know +what the peacock had said. Somehow his +voice was so awful that Turkey Proudfoot<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_69" id="p_69">p. 69</a></span> +had caught no actual words that +meant anything to him.</p> + +<p>Again the peacock screamed. Henrietta +Hen heard him. And she was so +flustered that she ran back and forth +across the road three times and was almost +trampled on by a horse.</p> + +<p>At last Turkey Proudfoot understood +what the peacock said. "Are you a +barnyard fowl?" he had asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am," said Turkey Proudfoot. +"Aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"No!" the peacock replied. "My +place is out here in front of the house +where people can see me when they drive +by.... Probably," he added, "we shan't +see much of each other."</p> + +<p>So saying, he walked stiffly away and +mounted the stone wall, where passing +travellers would be sure to notice him and +admire his beauty.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_70" id="p_70">p. 70</a></span></p> + +<p>All this was a terrible blow to Turkey +Proudfoot. For a moment he was +tempted to rush at the haughty stranger +and tear his handsome feathers into tatters. +But the peacock looked so huge, +standing on top of the wall with his great +tail rising above him, and his voice was +so frightfully loud and harsh, that Turkey +Proudfoot didn't even dare threaten him. +And that was something unusual for one +who had long claimed to be ruler of the +farmyard.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_71" id="p_71">p. 71</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2> + +<h3>MRS. WREN'S ADVICE</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Turkey Proudfoot</span> never knew that the +peacock was no bigger than he was. The +elegant creature had such a huge tail and +such a loud, harsh voice that Turkey +Proudfoot stood in great awe of him.</p> + +<p>Being very peevish, after his first meeting +with the peacock, Turkey Proudfoot +went behind the barn and found a young +gobbler and gave him a terrible drubbing. +Then Turkey Proudfoot felt better.</p> + +<p>That night he roosted in a tree near the +farmhouse. And in the morning when he +awoke no thought of the peacock entered +his head. He indulged in a few early<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_72" id="p_72">p. 72</a></span> +morning gobbles—according to his custom—when +a rasping scream reminded +him of his hated rival. The peacock had +slept in another tree not far away, even +nearer the farmhouse than Turkey Proudfoot's.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said Turkey Proudfoot. +"Farmer Green won't care for that racket +every morning just outside his window. +And neither will Rusty Wren. He always +goes to the trouble of waking +Farmer Green with his singing. This +new pet of Johnnie's has taken it upon +himself to do Rusty's work."</p> + +<p>It was true that Rusty Wren was upset. +He scolded a good deal to his wife +that day about the peacock.</p> + +<p>"There's no use of my singing a dawn +song beneath Farmer Green's window any +more," Rusty Wren grumbled. "The +terrible squalls of this new bird will disturb<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_73" id="p_73">p. 73</a></span> +everybody in the valley."</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly!" said Mrs. Wren. +"Don't be silly like Turkey Proudfoot. +He's making himself miserable because +the Peacock has a tail that sticks up +higher than his. How absurd," she cried, +"to be proud like Turkey Proudfoot, just +because your tail happens to stick up in +the air. Why, yours and mine stick up. +But we don't go around boasting about +them. And if somebody else has a stickier-up +tail, why worry about it? And if +somebody else with a louder voice can +wake Farmer Green better than you can, +why worry about that? Let the Peacock +scream if he wants to!"</p> + +<p>"And <i>I</i>—" cried Turkey Proudfoot, +who had been standing beneath the tree +where Mr. and Mrs. Wren were talking—"<i>I</i> say, +let the Peacock parade in the +front yard if he wants to. I certainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_74" id="p_74">p. 74</a></span> +shan't visit him there. I'll parade behind +the farmhouse."</p> + +<p>When Turkey Proudfoot first spoke up +like that, Rusty Wren and his wife gave +each other an uneasy look. They had expected +him to be angry. And now, with +an air of great relief, Mrs. Wren exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"I apologize to you, Mr. Turkey Proudfoot. +You're not as silly as I supposed. +You're not as vain as I thought you were. +I begin to think we've been mistaken +about you all these years."</p> + +<p>"You certainly have been," Turkey +Proudfoot declared. "I'm not vain at all +and I'm glad I haven't the Peacock's horrid, +harsh voice. Mine is much more +beautiful than his. And nobody can +deny it."</p> + +<p>"<i>Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!</i>"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_75" id="p_75">p. 75</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XVI" id="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> + +<h3>DRUMMING ON A LOG</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Turkey Proudfoot</span> was not always content +to stay in the farmyard. Although +Farmer Green fed him well, he liked to +range over the fields in search of extra +tidbits, such as grain, seeds and insects. +Sometimes he wandered even as far as the +pasture. And one day he strayed into the +edge of the woods beyond the pasture +fence.</p> + +<p>There he discovered a beech tree. And +Turkey Proudfoot was enjoying the nuts +that he found on the ground beneath it +when all at once a <i>thump-thump-thump</i> +startled him. He raised his head and<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_76" id="p_76">p. 76</a></span> +listened. The thumping sound came +faster and faster, then died away in a +rumble.</p> + +<p>"Ho! It's only Johnnie Green drumming. +Probably his mother wouldn't let +him drum near the farmhouse, so he came +to the woods where she couldn't hear +him."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot paid no more heed +to the drumming, which rolled through +the woods now and then. He went on +with his search for beechnuts. But at +last a thought popped into his head. +"Johnnie Green must be eating most of +the time, or he'd drum oftener," Turkey +Proudfoot muttered. "He must have +found a beech tree."</p> + +<p>Soon Turkey Proudfoot decided to +join Johnnie Green. He hoped that +beechnuts were more plentiful beneath +Johnnie's tree. So Turkey Proudfoot<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_77" id="p_77">p. 77</a></span> +picked his way slowly through the underbrush. +And guided by the <i>thump-thump-thump</i> +which once in a while boomed upon +his ears, at last Turkey Proudfoot came +into a little clearing.</p> + +<p>There on a log sat a speckly, feathered, +short-necked gentleman with a tail spread +in much the fashion in which Turkey +Proudfoot so often carried his own.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot drew back behind a +bush, out of sight.</p> + +<p>"I'll show that bird a tail that <i>is</i> a tail," +he muttered to himself. So he spread his +tail and then stepped proudly forth. A +dry twig snapped beneath his weight. At +that sound the stranger on the log +turned his head quickly. Just for an +instant there was an eager look on his +face. But when he beheld Turkey +Proudfoot it changed to one of disappointment.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_78" id="p_78">p. 78</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who are you?" the stranger asked in +none too pleasant a tone.</p> + +<p>"I'm Turkey Proudfoot," said the ruler +of the farmyard. "I live down the hill +at Farmer Green's place."</p> + +<p>"Then you'd better go home where you +belong," said the stranger on the log. "I +was expecting some one. I've been drumming +for a friend. And when I heard +you step on that dry twig I thought she'd +come. I had my tail spread in her +honor."</p> + +<p>"Drum again!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered. +"Call your friend at once and I'll +show her a tail that is a tail. Yours is +no bigger than Mrs. Green's fan."</p> + +<p>The stranger made no move to obey. +He appeared somewhat sulky.</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" Turkey Proudfoot +demanded.</p> + +<p>"I'm Mr. Grouse," the stranger<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_79" id="p_79">p. 79</a></span> +snapped out. "I supposed everybody in +Pleasant Valley knew me. My drumming +is famous."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" said Turkey Proudfoot. +"I thought it was Johnnie Green making +that noise."</p> + +<p>"No wonder!" Mr. Grouse sniffed. +"You're only a barnyard fowl. You +can't be expected to know anything about +us game birds."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_80" id="p_80">p. 80</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XVII" id="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> + +<h3>A GAME BIRD</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Grouse</span> moved back and forth upon +his log in the clearing in the woods. And +casting a withering glance at Turkey +Proudfoot, he said, "It's plain that you +don't know what a game bird is. Men—and +boys, too—come into the woods with +guns to hunt us. And we make game of +them by rising swiftly with a loud <i>whir</i> +and flying off before they have time to +shoot us."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot gaped at Mr. Grouse.</p> + +<p>"Don't they ever hit you?" he faltered.</p> + +<p>"They've never shot me," said Mr. +Grouse. "Once a hunter knocked out one +<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_81" id="p_81">p. 81</a></span>of my tail feathers. But that was only +an accident."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="illus-004" id="illus-004"></a> +<a name="illus-004-grande" id="illus-004-grande" href="images/illus-big-p80.jpg"> +<img src="images/illus-p80.jpg" width="400" height="620" +alt="Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat with Mr. Grouse" +title="Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat with Mr. Grouse" /> +</a> +<span class="caption">Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat with Mr. Grouse</span> +<p style="font-size: 80%; text-align: right">(<a href="#p_80"><i>Page</i> 80</a>)</p> +</div> + +<p>"I shouldn't care to be a game bird," +Turkey Proudfoot remarked. "I'm sure +it's much safer living at the farmyard."</p> + +<p>Mr. Grouse gave him an odd look. One +winter when food was scarce in the woods +he had flown down to the farmyard. And +he remembered seeing turkey feathers +scattered about the chopping block near +the woodpile.</p> + +<p>"How do you usually spend the holidays?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Last Fourth of July I went up in the +haymow and kept out of sight all day," +said Turkey Proudfoot. "I don't like +firecrackers."</p> + +<p>Mr. Grouse nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"I don't blame you for that," he observed. +"Firecrackers sound too much +like guns.... But I wasn't thinking of<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_82" id="p_82">p. 82</a></span> +the Fourth of July," he went on. "When +I asked how you spent the holidays I was +thinking more of those to come. Now, +Thanksgiving Day isn't a long way off. +Have you made any plans for that?"</p> + +<p>When he mentioned Thanksgiving Day +Turkey Proudfoot gave a sudden start.</p> + +<p>"For goodness' sake, don't speak of that +now!" he cried. "I came to the woods +to enjoy myself. And now you're trying +to spoil my good time."</p> + +<p>Mr. Grouse could see that Turkey +Proudfoot was angry. And being rather +peppery himself, he was tempted to say +something sharp—something about <i>axes</i>, +which are always sharp unless they're +dull. But Mr. Grouse managed to control +his temper. After all, he thought, it was +no wonder that Turkey Proudfoot didn't +want to hear about Thanksgiving Day.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me!" said Mr. Grouse. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_83" id="p_83">p. 83</a></span> +only brought up this matter in a cousinly +kind of way."</p> + +<p>"Cousinly!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. +"You and I, sir, are total strangers to each +other."</p> + +<p>"Well, we ought not to be," said Mr. +Grouse. "It's time we got acquainted +with each other. Didn't you know that +your family and mine are related?"</p> + +<p>"No!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. +"No! I never knew it."</p> + +<p>"It's the truth," Mr. Grouse told him. +"Don't you think we look a bit alike, except +that my neck is somewhat short, and +yours is long and skinny? And of course +my head is feathered out, while yours is +bald and red."</p> + +<p>"That will do!" Turkey Proudfoot +gobbled angrily. "Even if you are my +cousin you needn't make such remarks +about me."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_84" id="p_84">p. 84</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Grouse begged his pardon again.</p> + +<p>"I was only pointing out the differences +between us," he explained. "But if they +displease you, I'll speak of the ways in +which we are alike. Now, take our +tails—"</p> + +<p>"I won't!" Turkey Proudfoot squalled. +"I'll take my own tail wherever I go. +But I won't take yours."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_85" id="p_85">p. 85</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XVIII" id="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> + +<h3>RED LIGHTNING</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">What's</span> the matter with my tail!" cried +Mr. Grouse.</p> + +<p>"It's too small," Turkey Proudfoot declared. +"Now, if you want to see a tail +that <i>is</i> a tail—"</p> + +<p>"I don't!" cried Mr. Grouse. "Not if +you want me to look at yours! In fact, I +don't care to talk with you any more. I +was going to suggest a pleasant way for +you to spend Thanksgiving Day. But +nothing I say seems to please you. Besides, +you began to boast about your tail +the moment you entered this clearing. +And if there's anybody I can't endure,<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_86" id="p_86">p. 86</a></span> +it's a boaster." He was a rough and +ready sort of fellow—this Mr. Grouse. +When he had anything to say he didn't go +beating about the bush. He came right +out in the open and spoke his mind freely.</p> + +<p>You might think that Turkey Proudfoot +would have taken his cousin's remarks +to heart. But he didn't. He was +so pleased with his own tail that to him it +was the biggest thing in the world. Indeed, +when he spread his tail and looked +at it he could see nothing else.</p> + +<p>"You are jealous," he told Mr. Grouse. +"And I can't blame you. It's only natural +that you should look at my tail with +envy. Everybody does down at the farmyard."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot must have forgotten +all about the peacock, when he spoke. +Anyhow, he gazed around at his tail with +great admiration.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_87" id="p_87">p. 87</a></span></p> + +<p>All at once there was a terrible, loud +<i>whirring</i> sound. Turkey Proudfoot +started up in alarm. To his amazement, +where Mr. Grouse had been sitting on the +log there was now nothing at all.</p> + +<p>"Up! Up!" It was Mr. Grouse's +voice that Turkey Proudfoot heard; and +it seemed to come from the tree right +above his head.</p> + +<p>Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like +to obey anybody's orders—and certainly +not Mr. Grouse's—there was a note of +alarm in the cry that made him squall with +terror. He started to run, flapping his +wings awkwardly. And just as he rose +into the air a reddish, brownish streak +flashed beneath him.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot settled himself on a +branch of an old oak and looked down at +a sharp-faced, grinning person who leered +up at him. It was Tommy Fox. And<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_88" id="p_88">p. 88</a></span> +though he looked very pleasant, inside he +was feeling quite peevish. If it hadn't +been for Mr. Grouse's warning he would +surely have captured Turkey Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>It was like Turkey Proudfoot not to +thank his cousin. And it was like him, +too, to fly into a rage.</p> + +<p>"You might have warned me sooner," +he complained to Mr. Grouse. "That red +rascal is quick as lightning. He almost +caught me."</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd follow me when you +saw me rise," said Mr. Grouse.</p> + +<p>"I didn't see you."</p> + +<p>"Well, you <i>heard</i> me, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"I heard a <i>whirring</i> sound," said +Turkey Proudfoot, "but I didn't know +what it was."</p> + +<p>"Great snakes!" cried Mr. Grouse. +"Farmer Green ought not to let you come +into the woods—not if he expects you to<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_89" id="p_89">p. 89</a></span> +spend Thanksgiving Day with him!"</p> + +<p>Tommy Fox chuckled at that remark.</p> + +<p>But Turkey Proudfoot never let on that +he heard it. He crouched lower upon the +limb of the oak tree and pretended to fall +asleep.</p> + +<p>Daylight was fast fading.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_90" id="p_90">p. 90</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XIX" id="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> + +<h3>NIGHT IN THE WOODS</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Grouse</span> and Tommy Fox soon went +about their business, leaving Turkey +Proudfoot to roost in the oak tree in the +woods.</p> + +<p>Though he pretended to be fast asleep, +Turkey Proudfoot had kept one eye +slightly open. He had seen Tommy Fox +trot away toward the pasture. He had +heard Mr. Grouse go <i>whirring</i> off into the +depths of the woods.</p> + +<p>"It's too late to go back to the farmyard +this evening," Turkey Proudfoot +grumbled. "It's almost dusk already. +And there's no telling about Tommy Fox.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_91" id="p_91">p. 91</a></span> +He may be hiding behind a tree, ready to +pounce on me the moment I alight on the +ground."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot actually began to +feel a bit sleepy. He was in the habit of +going early to roost anyhow. So he +huddled low on the branch of the oak tree. +And soon he was in the land of dreams.</p> + +<p>He slept a long time. And while he +slept a number of things happened of +which he knew nothing.</p> + +<p>Tommy Fox came stealing back in the +moonlight and gazed up at him with longing +eyes.</p> + +<p>Miss Kitty Cat, who had prowled +through the pasture on a hunt for field +mice, spied him. "I declare, that's +Turkey Proudfoot!" she exclaimed. "He +must have got lost up here. I certainly +shan't wake him and tell him the way +home. If I spoke to him he'd be sure to<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_92" id="p_92">p. 92</a></span> +gobble and scare away all the mice in the +neighborhood."</p> + +<p>Benjamin Bat came zigzagging through +the air and all but blundered into Turkey +Proudfoot. Missing him by the breadth +of a wing, Benjamin Bat hung head downward +from a near-by limb and stared +at the sleeping form. "Hello!" he +squeaked. "Here's a newcomer in these +woods. I should think he'd cling to that +limb upside down. He'd find it a much +safer way than sitting on top of the +limb." Benjamin Bat was on the point +of rousing Turkey Proudfoot and advising +him to change his position when a +quavering whistle sent Benjamin hurrying +away. He knew the voice of Simon +Screecher, Solomon Owl's small cousin. +And he had no wish to meet him.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot stirred in his sleep. +He was dreaming—dreaming that Johnnie<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_93" id="p_93">p. 93</a></span> +Green was whistling to old dog Spot to +come and drive Turkey Proudfoot out of +the newly planted cornfield. The whistling +seemed to come nearer and nearer. +"I won't stir for old Spot," Turkey +Proudfoot gobbled aloud in his sleep.</p> + +<p>"Maybe you'll stir for me," cried a +strange voice. And Turkey Proudfoot +woke up with a start.</p> + +<p>"Where am I?" he bawled. For a moment +he couldn't remember having gone +to sleep in the woods.</p> + +<p>"You're right up under Blue Mountain," +said Simon Screecher. "It's a +dangerous place for a stranger to sleep. +There are birds and beasts a-plenty in +these woods that would make a meal of +you if they caught you here."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot yawned.</p> + +<p>"I'm not worrying," he replied. +"Foxes can't climb trees. And I'm as<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_94" id="p_94">p. 94</a></span> +big as any bird in the neighborhood."</p> + +<p>"You're as big—yes! And bigger than +most!" Simon Screecher admitted. "But +it isn't bigness alone that counts in the +woods," he insisted.</p> + +<p>"What does count, then?" Turkey</p> + +<p>Proudfoot demanded.</p> + +<p>"You ought to be able to guess," said +Simon Screecher. "It's right in front of +your eyes."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_95" id="p_95">p. 95</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XX" id="XX"></a>XX</h2> + +<h3>BEAKS AND BILLS</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">Turkey Proudfoot</span> was a poor guesser. +There in the woods, at night, Simon +Screecher the owl had told him of something +that "counted," something that was +right in front of Turkey Proudfoot's eyes. +And Turkey Proudfoot named everything +he could think of. He mentioned the oak +tree in which he sat, the darkness, the yellow +moon.</p> + +<p>"You're wrong!" Simon Screecher +kept telling him. "You're getting further +away with every guess. I suppose +I'll have to tell you what I mean: it's your +beak. And if that isn't right in front of<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_96" id="p_96">p. 96</a></span> +your eyes, I don't know what is."</p> + +<p>"My beak!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. +"I don't call my bill my beak. I call my +beak my bill."</p> + +<p>"Well, beak or bill, yours is a useless +thing," Simon Screecher sneered. "It +may do well enough to pick up a kernel of +corn. But it can't be much good as a +weapon. It ought to be sharp and hooked +to be of any use in a fight."</p> + +<p>With every word that Simon Screecher +said, Turkey Proudfoot was growing +angrier.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing wrong with my bill," +he clamored. "I've had plenty of fights +in the farmyard. The fowls are all afraid +of me at home."</p> + +<p>Simon Screecher gave a most disagreeable +laugh.</p> + +<p>"I wasn't thinking of farmyard fights," +he sniffed. "If Fatty Coon or Grumpy<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_97" id="p_97">p. 97</a></span> +Weasel or my cousin Solomon Owl +grabbed you, you'd find that a fight in the +woods is a very different matter from a +mere barnyard squabble."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot was furious.</p> + +<p>"If you'll come over here on this limb +I'll peck you," he cried.</p> + +<p>"Huh! We don't fight that way in the +woods," Simon Screecher retorted. "We +don't peck. We tear-r-r-r!"</p> + +<p>He rolled out the last word in a long-drawn +quaver which gave it a horrid +sound—especially in the woods, after +dark. And Turkey Proudfoot felt chills +a-running up and down his back.</p> + +<p>"A-ahem! You-you needn't bother to +come over here," he stammered. "I-I +shouldn't like to peck you. You-er-you +seem to be a very pleasant sort of person."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm not!" Simon Screecher informed +him. "And you ought to see my<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_98" id="p_98">p. 98</a></span> +cousin, Solomon Owl. He's a <i>terrible</i> +fellow."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot's wishbone seemed +to be trying to come up into his month. +At least, he had to swallow several times +before he could answer.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see your cousin," he replied, +"but not to-night."</p> + +<p>He had scarcely finished speaking when +a loud call came booming through the +woods: "<i>Whooo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, +to-whoo-ah!</i>"</p> + +<p>"Who's that?" gasped Turkey Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>"That's my cousin, Solomon Owl," +Simon Screecher explained. "And he's +not far away."</p> + +<p>"My goodness!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. +"If he's as big as his voice he +must be enormous."</p> + +<p>"He's twice my size," said Simon<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_99" id="p_99">p. 99</a></span> +Screecher. "Not nearly as big as you +are, of course! But you ought to see his +beak. I do believe he could tear you +into—"</p> + +<p>"I don't want to see him to-night," +Turkey Proudfoot interrupted. "I hope +he won't come this way. Go and find +him. And tell him to meet me here <i>to-morrow</i> +night."</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_100" id="p_100">p. 100</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXI" id="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> + +<h3>FARMYARD MANNERS</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Oh</span>, very well!" said Simon Screecher +to Turkey Proudfoot. "I'll give my +cousin your message. I'll tell him that +you want him to meet you here in this +clearing in the woods to-morrow night." +So off Simon Screecher flew.</p> + +<p>He had not been gone long when a noisy +"<i>haw-haw-hoo-hoo</i>" rolled and echoed +through the woods.</p> + +<p>"He's laughing!" Turkey Proudfoot +exclaimed. "Solomon Owl is laughing. +I wonder what the joke is." He was so +curious to know that he actually began to +wish that Simon Screecher would hurry<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_101" id="p_101">p. 101</a></span> +back. And after a little while he did.</p> + +<p>"What was the joke?" Turkey Proudfoot +demanded. "I heard you cousin +laughing."</p> + +<p>"Solomon Owl says that he doesn't care +to meet you at all," Simon Screecher explained. +"He says he has heard about +you before and that you're a tough old +bird."</p> + +<p>"I'm not!" Turkey shrieked. "I'm +very tender—and I'm not ten years old."</p> + +<p>"Solomon Owl says he doesn't care to +bother with any but the very youngest +Turkeys."</p> + +<p>"Well," Turkey Proudfoot retorted, +"no matter what he says, the joke's on +him. I wasn't coming back here to-morrow +night. I don't like sleeping in the +woods and having my rest disturbed by +hoots and whistles."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you don't," Simon<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_102" id="p_102">p. 102</a></span> +Screecher admitted. "And I shouldn't +care to try to sleep at the farmyard in the +daytime and he waked by gobbles."</p> + +<p>"I wish you <i>would</i> come down to the +farmyard," Turkey Proudfoot told him. +"You'd drive old dog Spot half crazy with +your whistling."</p> + +<p>Simon Screecher looked thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"No!" he said. "Farmer Green might +drive me half crazy with his old shotgun." +He yawned as he spoke. "I don't see +what's making me so sleepy," he remarked. +"I must be going home."</p> + +<p>"Don't hurry!" Turkey Proudfoot +begged him. "I'm beginning to enjoy +your company—though I can't exactly +say why. And I'd like to gabble with you +for an hour or two. I don't see what +makes me so wakeful."</p> + +<p>Just then a familiar sound greeted +Turkey Proudfoot's ears. It was a crow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_103" id="p_103">p. 103</a></span> +It was the rooster's crow, way down at the +farmyard.</p> + +<p>"Why, it's almost dawn!" Turkey +Proudfoot exclaimed. "I didn't know +the night was so nearly gone. It's no +wonder I couldn't sleep. The dawn of +another day always makes one wide +awake."</p> + +<p>"It always makes one sleepy, you +mean," Simon Screecher corrected him.</p> + +<p>Now, Turkey Proudfoot always grew +angry when anybody corrected him in any +way. And he flew into a rage.</p> + +<p>"Go away! Go home!" he spluttered. +"I don't enjoy your company."</p> + +<p>Simon Screecher started homewards at +once.</p> + +<p>"Farmyard manners!" he muttered. +"I declare, I wish Cousin Solomon hadn't +eaten those two mice and those three frogs +and those four spiders and those five<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_104" id="p_104">p. 104</a></span> +grasshoppers to-night. When he's well +fed he's always good-natured. If he had +been hungry he'd have been in a terrible +temper. And he'd have fought this +Turkey bird until there was nothing left +of him but his tail feathers."</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot never knew what a +narrow escape he had. As soon as it began +to grow light he dropped down out +of the oak tree and hurried home, for he +didn't want to miss the breakfast that +Farmer Green always gave him.</p> + +<p>Along in the fall, breakfasts always +seemed to be bigger.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_105" id="p_105">p. 105</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXII" id="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> + +<h3>CRANBERRY SAUCE</h3> + + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Ho</span>, hum!" old Mr. Crow yawned. He +had stopped to talk with Turkey Proudfoot +in the cornfield. It was fall; and +the shocks of corn stood on every hand +like great fat scarecrows, with fat yellow +pumpkins lying at their feet, as if the +scarecrows' heads had fallen off.</p> + +<p>Mr. Crow always yawned a good deal +when he chatted with Turkey Proudfoot +and he wasn't always as careful as he +might have been about covering up his +yawns. Somehow Mr. Crow found +Turkey Proudfoot dull company. Turkey +Proudfoot had never been off the farm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_106" id="p_106">p. 106</a></span> +On the other hand, old Mr. Crow was a +great traveller. In his younger days he +used to spend every winter in the South. +And though he felt that the long journey +had become too hard for him now, he +thought nothing of flying around Blue +Mountain and up and down Pleasant +Valley.</p> + +<p>As a result of his wanderings Mr. Crow +had learned many things. And as a result +of his staying at home, Turkey Proudfoot +had learned little or nothing. Often +Turkey Proudfoot complained to Mr. +Crow that he couldn't even understand +what Mr. Crow was talking about. But +on this occasion Mr. Crow mentioned +something that made him shudder.</p> + +<p>"Ho, hum!" Mr. Crow yawned again. +"My appetite isn't what it used to be. I +believe I need to eat something tart. So +I think I'll go over to the cranberry bog<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_107" id="p_107">p. 107</a></span> +and pick a few cranberries. Why don't +you come along with me?"</p> + +<p>"Ugh!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. +"Cranberries! I can't stand even the +mention of them."</p> + +<p>"Ha!" Mr. Crow murmured to himself. +"I've waked him up at last. I thought +that would fetch him." And to Turkey +Proudfoot he said, "Do you mean to tell +me that you don't like cranberries? +Why, I've always heard Turkey and +cranberry sauce mentioned together."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I've +no doubt you've heard them spoken of +only too often. But that's no reason why +I should be fond of cranberry sauce. To +tell the truth, all my life I've schemed to +keep away from it."</p> + +<p>"Then you don't care for the sharp +taste of cranberries," said Mr. Crow.</p> + +<p>"I've never eaten any," Turkey Proud<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_108" id="p_108">p. 108</a></span>foot +told him. "I'm sure I couldn't eat +any if I wanted to. I believe the sight of +them would take my appetite away."</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Crow shook his head. And he +leaned over to pick up a stray kernel of +corn.</p> + +<p>"Don't take that!" Turkey Proudfoot +warned him. "I've had my eye on that +kernel. I was going to eat it as soon as +you went away."</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Crow bolted the kernel of corn +in a twinkling.</p> + +<p>"You forget that you're not in the +farmyard," he said boldly. "You can't +treat me as if I were a Hen." And he +chuckled—in a croaking sort of fashion.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot glared at him. He +knew that it was useless to rush at Mr. +Crow. The old gentleman would only +rise into the air and sail away with a loud +haw-haw.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_109" id="p_109">p. 109</a></span></p> + +<p>Now, Mr. Crow was a famous tease. +He dearly loved to annoy others. And he +gave Turkey Proudfoot a sly glance.</p> + +<p>"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "I have a +twinge of rheumatism."</p> + +<p>"Where is your pain?" asked Turkey +Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>"In one of my drumsticks," said old +Mr. Crow promptly, with a spluttering +cough, to keep from laughing.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot was furious.</p> + +<p>"Cranberry sauce and drumsticks!" he +exclaimed. "You do choose the most +painful things to talk about."</p> + +<p>"I was only trying to be polite," Mr. +Crow told him. "You're always complaining +that I don't talk about matters +you can understand."</p> + +<p>"I understand these only too well—" +Turkey Proudfoot said—"especially at +this season of the year!"</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_110" id="p_110">p. 110</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIII" id="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> + +<h3>VACATION TIME</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was well along in November. And +Turkey Proudfoot was feeling fidgetty. +Whenever Farmer Green or the hired man +stepped into the yard, he started up with +a wild look in his eye.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot was no longer roosting +at night in the tree near the farmhouse.</p> + +<p>With the coming of cold weather he had +been glad enough to roost under a shed beside +the barn.</p> + +<p>Ever since the winter before, Turkey +Proudfoot had enjoyed sound sleeps at +night. But for weeks now he had often<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_111" id="p_111">p. 111</a></span> +waked up in the middle of the night and +found himself all a-shiver.</p> + +<p>"It's the fault of that horrid old Mr. +Crow," Turkey Proudfoot complained to +old dog Spot one day. "He would talk +about cranberry sauce and drumsticks. +And of course a person can't sleep well +with such things on his mind."</p> + +<p>Old dog Spot nodded.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it about time for you to go on +your yearly vacation?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Don't talk so loud!" Turkey Proudfoot +hissed. And he took a quick glance +all around. Then he said to old dog Spot, +in almost a whisper, "To-morrow morning +I'll be missing. Now, don't tell anybody!"</p> + +<p>"Certainly not!" Spot promised. "I'm +glad you're going away for a little change. +I've thought lately that you were getting +more peevish and quarrelsome than ever."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_112" id="p_112">p. 112</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm not!" Turkey Proudfoot gobbled. +"I may be a bit excitable because I've lost +a good deal of sleep lately. But I'm as +good-natured as I ever was."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well!" said Spot. "I'll +admit all that. I certainly don't want to +quarrel with you just as you're going to +leave us for a while.... We shall miss +you while you're gone," he added with a +sly smile. "The place will seem very +quiet without your gobble."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I dare say it will be lonesome +around here," Turkey Proudfoot agreed. +"And I suppose things will be in a muddle +in the farmyard by the time I get back, +with nobody to keep order there."</p> + +<p>"I'll do the best I can while you're +away," old dog Spot promised.</p> + +<p>Turkey Proudfoot seemed doubtful that +Spot could take his place.</p> + +<p>"Keep your tail still when you bark,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_113" id="p_113">p. 113</a></span> +he told the old dog. "These farmyard +fowls won't pay much attention to you if +they see your tail a-wagging."</p> + +<p>"I'll remember what you say," Spot +answered.</p> + +<p>"Be sure to keep a sharp eye on that +Rooster." Turkey Proudfoot went on. "I +don't want him to get the idea into his +head that he's running things in this, +farmyard."</p> + +<p>"Very well!" said Spot. "Shall I let +him crow a bit, if he wants to?"</p> + +<p>"Let him crow—yes!" Turkey Proudfoot +answered. "But if he starts to gobbling—well, +you'd better send for me at +once."</p> + +<p>"What about the Peacock?" Spot inquired +wickedly. He knew that Turkey +Proudfoot was frightfully jealous of +Johnnie Green's newest pet.</p> + +<p>"The Peacock!" Turkey Proudfoot<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_114" id="p_114">p. 114</a></span> +squawked. "Pull out his tail feathers—every +one of them! I've been intending +to do that myself. But I've been so busy +that I haven't had the time for it."</p> + +<p>Then they said good-by.</p> + +<p>"You ought to tell me where you're going," +Spot suggested. "If the Rooster +should gobble I must know where to find +you."</p> + +<p>So Turkey Proudfoot told him. He +told him in such a low tone that nobody +else could hear.</p> + +<hr class="chapter" /> +<p class="chapter"><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_115" id="p_115">p. 115</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="XXIV" id="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> + +<h3>BROTHER TOM</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was almost dark in the cornfield on a +crisp evening late in November. It was +not Farmer Green's field, but that of a +neighbor of his. And it was far from any +house.</p> + +<p>The pumpkins had been gathered weeks +before. The cornstalks had long since +been cut and now stood in shocks amidst +the stubble.</p> + +<p>On the whole, the scene was bleak and +dismal. Not a creature moved anywhere. +Even the meadow, mice had already found +the nights too chilly for their liking. +Turkey Proudfoot was there alone, standing<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_116" id="p_116">p. 116</a></span> +like a statue, as if he were waiting for +somebody.</p> + +<p>"I don't see where he can be," Turkey +Proudfoot muttered. "I've spent three +days and three nights here already. And +he has never been late before in all the +years that I've been coming here for my +vacation."</p> + +<p>At last Turkey Proudfoot bestirred +himself. With a hop, skip and a jump he +landed on top of the rail fence that surrounded +the field and settled himself for +the night.</p> + +<p>He had scarcely closed his eyes when a +faint "<i>Gobble, gobble, gobble</i>" from +across the cornfield drove all idea of sleep +out of his head. He started up, stretched +his long neck as high as he could, and +burst forth with a deafening "<i>Gobble, +gobble, gobble!</i>" Then he paused and +listened.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_117" id="p_117">p. 117</a></span></p> + +<p>The answer soon reached him. It was +nearer this time. And after Turkey +Proudfoot had repeated his interesting remark +about a dozen times a huge old +turkey cock came running up and alighted, +panting, upon the fence-rail where +Turkey Proudfoot was roosting.</p> + +<p>"You're late," Turkey Proudfoot +greeted him. "I'd begun to fear that you +had met with an accident. What kept +you?"</p> + +<p>"They shut me up in a pen," the newcomer +told him. He was still somewhat +out of breath, partly because of rage at +having been imprisoned, partly because +he had been hurrying. "They shut me up +two days ago," he explained.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. +"You ought to have left home three days +ago. Did you forget our yearly meeting?"</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_118" id="p_118">p. 118</a></span></p> + +<p>"No!" said the other. "But I must +have miscounted the days."</p> + +<p>"That's very dangerous at this time of +year," Turkey Proudfoot replied. "It's +a wonder that you escaped from the pen. +How did you manage to slip out!"</p> + +<p>"Somebody left the door ajar," said the +strange turkey.</p> + +<p>"Ah! I've always claimed that our +family was lucky!" Turkey Proudfoot +cried. And he gave his companion a slap +on the back with his wing.</p> + +<p>Now, that was a jolly thing to do—and +not at all like Turkey Proudfoot. But +he was glad to see the newcomer. They +were brothers. They had been separated +when quite young; and they had lived on +neighboring farms all their lives.</p> + +<p>For a time they talked together pleasantly +enough. Of course Turkey Proudfoot +couldn't help boasting about the way<span class='pagenum'><a name="p_119" id="p_119">p. 119</a></span> +he ruled the roost when he was at home. +But his brother Tom was just as great a +boaster. And after a time each began to +think the other's stories somewhat tiresome. +So they began to yawn. And at +last they fell asleep.</p> + +<p>A crescent moon peeped down at them +from a clear, cold sky that crackled with +stars. A chilling breeze swept down the +valley. And sometime during the night +Turkey Proudfoot woke up and found +himself a-shiver. He sidled along the +rail and huddled against his brother Tom.</p> + +<p>Brother Tom stirred and stretched himself.</p> + +<p>"This night's a nipper, isn't it?" he remarked. +"I can't help wishing my legs +were like Mr. Grouse's."</p> + +<p>"Huh!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. +"You'd look queer—as fat as you are—if +you had legs as short as his."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="p_120" id="p_120">p. 120</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah! But his legs are feathered out. +And there's nothing like feathers to keep +the cold off," said Brother Tom.</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Turkey Proudfoot, +"Mr. Grouse's legs wouldn't get as cold +as ours do, even if he hadn't a feather on +them."</p> + +<p>"Why not?" asked Brother Tom.</p> + +<p>"Because they're shorter," said Turkey +Proudfoot.</p> + +<p>Brother Tom made no reply. He was +no longer awake.</p> + +<p>Being on the leeward side of his +brother, Turkey Proudfoot began to feel +warmer.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad Tom's a big fellow," he murmured +drowsily. "He makes a fine windbreak." +Then he too fell asleep.</p> + +<p>And the next day was Thanksgiving.</p> + +<h3>THE END</h3> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot, by +Arthur Scott Bailey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT *** + +***** This file should be named 21844-h.htm or 21844-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/4/21844/ + +Produced by Joe Longo and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot + Slumber-Town Tales + +Author: Arthur Scott Bailey + +Illustrator: Harry L. Smith + +Release Date: June 16, 2007 [EBook #21844] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT *** + + + + +Produced by Joe Longo and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + +THE TALE OF + +TURKEY PROUDFOOT + +_SLUMBER-TOWN TALES_ + +(Trademark Registered) + +BY + +ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY + +AUTHOR OF + +_SLEEPY-TIME TALES_ + +(Trademark Registered) + +_TUCK-ME-IN TALES_ + +(Trademark Registered) + + + +THE TALE OF THE MULEY COW +THE TALE OF OLD DOG SPOT +THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG +THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN +THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT +THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS +THE TALE OF MISS KITTY CAT + +[Illustration: The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot. +_Frontispiece_--(_Page_ 16)] + + _SLUMBER-TOWN TALES_ + (Trademark Registered) + + THE TALE OF + TURKEY PROUDFOOT + + BY + + ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY + + Author of + "SLEEPY-TIME TALES" + (Trademark Registered) + AND + "TUCK-ME-IN TALES" + (Trademark Registered) + + ILLUSTRATED BY + + HARRY L. SMITH + + NEW YORK + GROSSET & DUNLAP + PUBLISHERS + + Made in the United States of America + + COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY + GROSSET & DUNLAP + + + + +CONTENTS + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I A STRUTTER 1 + II THE SILLY SIX 6 + III THE MEDDLER 11 + IV SCARING THE GEESE 16 + V A SAFE PERCH 20 + VI THE MIMIC 25 + VII HALF WRONG 30 + VIII HARD TO PLEASE 35 + IX A STRANGE GOBBLE 39 + X THE WORM TURNS 45 + XI BLUSTER 50 + XII MR. CROW'S NEWS 56 + XIII THE NEW PET 61 + XIV A PROUD PERSON 66 + XV MRS. WREN'S ADVICE 71 + XVI DRUMMING ON A LOG 75 + XVII A GAME BIRD 80 + XVIII RED LIGHTNING 85 + XIX NIGHT IN THE WOODS 90 + XX BEAKS AND BILLS 95 + XXI FARMYARD MANNERS 100 + XXII CRANBERRY SAUCE 105 + XXIII VACATION TIME 110 + XXIV BROTHER TOM 115 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + PAGE + + The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot + _Frontispiece_ + Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot 40 + The Peacock Ignores Turkey Proudfoot 64 + Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat With Mr. Grouse 80 + + + + +THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT + + + + +I + +A STRUTTER + + +All the hen turkeys thought Turkey Proudfoot a wonderful creature. They +said he had the most beautiful tail on the farm. When he spread it and +strutted about Farmer Green's place the hen turkeys were sure to nudge +one another and say, "Ahem! Isn't he elegant?" + +But the rest of the farmyard folk made quite different remarks about +him. They declared Turkey Proudfoot to be a silly, vain gobbler, noisy +and quarrelsome. + +Now, there was truth in what everybody thought and said about this +lordly person, Turkey Proudfoot. He did have a huge tail, when he chose +to spread it; and his feathers shone with a greenish, coppery, bronzy +glitter that might easily have turned the head of anybody that boasted +such beautiful colors. Certainly the hen turkeys turned their heads--and +craned their necks--whenever Turkey Proudfoot came near them. And when +he spoke to them, saying "_Gobble, gobble, gobble!_" in a loud tone, +they were always pleased. + +The hen turkeys seemed to find that remark, "_Gobble, gobble, gobble!_" +highly interesting. But everybody else complained about the noise that +Turkey Proudfoot made, and said that if he must gobble they wished he +would go off by himself, where people didn't have to listen to him. + +And nobody but the hen turkeys liked the way Turkey Proudfoot walked. At +every step he took he raised a foot high in the air, acting for all the +world as if the ground wasn't good enough for him to walk upon. And when +he wasn't picking up a seed, or a bit of grain, or an insect off the +ground, he held his head very high. Often Turkey Proudfoot seemed to +look right past his farmyard neighbors, as if he were gazing at +something in the next field and didn't see them. But they soon learned +that that was only an odd way of his. Really, he saw about everything +that went on. If anybody happened to grin at him Turkey Proudfoot was +sure to take notice at once and try to pick a quarrel. + +After all, perhaps it wasn't strange that Turkey Proudfoot should act as +he did. Being the ruler of Farmer Green's whole flock of turkeys, he was +somewhat spoiled. All the hen turkeys did about as he told them to do. +Or if they didn't, Turkey Proudfoot thought that they obeyed his orders. +And the younger gobblers as well had to mind him. If they didn't, Turkey +Proudfoot fought them until they were ready to gobble for mercy. + +Having whipped the younger gobblers a good many times, Turkey Proudfoot +firmly believed that he could whip anything or anybody. And there was +nobody on the farm, almost, at whom he hadn't dashed at least once. He +had even attacked Farmer Green. But Farmer Green quickly taught him +better. A blow on the head from a stout stick bowled Turkey Proudfoot +over and he never tried to fight Farmer Green again. + +That proved that Turkey Proudfoot wasn't as empty-headed as some of his +neighbors thought him. It was possible to get a lesson into his head, +even if one had to knock it into his skull with a club. + + + + +II + +THE SILLY SIX + + +Farmer Green owned six geese. Though there was an even number of them, +they were odd creatures. They had little to do with the other farmyard +folk, but kept much to themselves. If one of them started up the road on +some errand, the other five always followed her. If one of them suddenly +took it into her head to enjoy a swim her five companions were sure to +want one too, and waddled with her to the duck pond. + +Now, Turkey Proudfoot never went swimming. Like all the rest of the +flock over which he ruled, he thought swimming was bad for one's +health. He couldn't understand how anybody could enjoy cold water, +except for drinking purposes. And somehow he always felt as if his +feathers had been a bit ruffled whenever he saw the six geese set out +for the duck pond. Although their taking a swim was no affair of his, +still it made him angry. + +"Look at those geese!" he would gobble angrily to anybody that happened +to be near him. "They're going to take another cold, wet bath. They're +old enough to know better. I often wonder why Farmer Green wants such a +stupid crew on his farm. The Silly Six, I call 'em!" + +When Turkey Proudfoot talked in that fashion there were some that didn't +agree with him. The ducks never failed to quack their displeasure. And +old Spot sometimes growled and told him he'd be the better for a good +swim. + +But Turkey Proudfoot always declared, in answer to that, that he knew +he'd catch his death of cold if he ever stepped into the duck pond. And +there were some of the same mind as he. + +There was Miss Kitty Cat, who never liked to get her feet wet and on +stormy days lay by the hour beneath the kitchen stove and dozed. + +And there was the rooster. He didn't believe in wet, cold baths. He +liked dry dust baths. And when, one day, Turkey Proudfoot turned to him +suddenly and gobbled, "There go the Silly Six to swim!" the rooster +answered with a sniff, "Well, let 'em go! Don't stop 'em on my account. +I certainly don't want to join them." + +Turkey Proudfoot was all ready for a quarrel. "I hope you don't think +_I_ want to go swimming with the geese," he retorted. There was a +dangerous glitter in his eyes. + +Seeing this, the rooster made haste to assure Turkey Proudfoot that he +meant nothing of the sort. + +"Don't let's quarrel!" the rooster cried--for he was much smaller than +Turkey Proudfoot. "There's nothing for us to quarrel about. We're of the +same mind about the geese and their swimming." + +"I'm disappointed," Turkey Proudfoot told him. "For a moment I thought I +had an excuse for fighting you. And I'm not sure that I oughtn't to be +angry with you for agreeing with me when I didn't expect you to." + +The rooster gave a hoarse crow. He thought Turkey Proudfoot was joking. +And being afraid of Turkey Proudfoot, the rooster felt obliged to laugh +loudly at his jokes. + +"Don't laugh at me!" Turkey Proudfoot cried. + +"C-c-can't I laugh at the six silly geese?" the rooster stammered. + +"Yes!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "Yes--if you see anything funny about +them. For my part, I couldn't laugh at them if I tried to. The mere +thought of plunging into cold water almost gives me a chill." + + + + +III + +THE MEDDLER + + +"Why don't you tell the geese that it's dangerous for them to swim in +the duck pond?" the rooster asked Turkey Proudfoot. "Tell them how it +almost gives you a chill just to see them set out for the pond. Ask them +to keep out of the water." + +Turkey Proudfoot drew himself up to his full height, spread his tail, +and looked down at the rooster with great disdain. "Ask!" he exclaimed. +"I never ask anything of anybody. I'll have you know, sir, that I give +orders. And when I give 'em I expect folks to obey 'em." + +"Good!" cried the rooster gayly. He was really shaking in his shoes and +didn't intend to let Turkey Proudfoot know it. "Order the geese to stay +away from the water. Command them to stop swimming. If you don't, you'll +have a terrible chill some day when you see them set out for the duck +pond. And you don't want to be ill just before the holidays." + +"That's true," said Turkey Proudfoot. "I don't want to get a chill and +be ill." And then he turned suddenly upon the startled rooster. "Look +here!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "It seems to me that _you_ are giving +_me_ orders." + +"Not at all!" the rooster assured him. "No, indeed! You're mistaken." + +"Don't tell me I'm mistaken!" Turkey Proudfoot bawled in an angry, +gobbly voice. "I'm never mistaken." + +"Oh, certainly not!" said the rooster, who was bold as brass with most +of his neighbors, but very mild with Turkey Proudfoot. + +"Ha!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You're getting yourself into a hole, +sir! If I wasn't mistaken, then you _were_ giving me orders. And in +either case I should have to fight you." + +This was too much for the rooster. He couldn't grasp what Turkey +Proudfoot was saying. He only knew that things looked bad for him +because Turkey Proudfoot was getting angrier every moment. + +"I say!" the rooster cried. "Please don't waste your time on me just +now, Mr. Turkey Proudfoot! Here come the six silly geese back from the +duck pond. And I'd suggest that you speak to them at once and warn them +not to enter the water again." + +Turkey Proudfoot glanced across the farmyard. It was as the rooster had +said. The six geese were waddling around a corner of the barn in single +file. Somehow the sight of them made him so furious that he forgot he +had been picking a quarrel with the rooster. + +"I'll attend to them," he gobbled. "I'll fix them. They'll be so scared +that they won't dare leave this yard again." + +Turkey Proudfoot hurried towards the geese. He didn't take time to +strut, but ran across the yard with long strides. + +"Don't be silly geese!" Turkey Proudfoot called. "Keep away from the +duck-pond! The weather's getting colder every day; and it makes me +shiver to see you start off for a swim." + +Turkey Proudfoot had supposed the six geese would be very meek and most +eager to obey his commands. But to his great surprise they stopped, +wheeled about so that they stood in a row, facing him, and hissed +loudly. + +It was not at all the sort of answer Turkey Proudfoot had expected. + + + + +IV + +SCARING THE GEESE + + +The six geese stood in a row and hissed at Turkey Proudfoot. He was so +astonished that any one of them could have knocked him over with a +feather, almost. When he gobbled an order at them, telling them not to +go swimming again, the geese hissed at him. That was just the same as +telling him to keep still and mind his own affairs. + +And Turkey Proudfoot was not used to answers like that. + +The rooster had followed him across the farmyard in order to look on and +listen while Turkey Proudfoot spoke to the geese. And his surprise was +as great as Turkey Proudfoot's. + +"Surely!" he muttered to Turkey Proudfoot, "you aren't going to let +these geese go unpunished. They've insulted you." + +"Ha! I _thought_ they had," Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "And I'm glad to +know that you agree with me. There's no doubt that they deserve a severe +beating." + +"Ah!" the rooster cried. "Now we'll see some fun." + +"Yes!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I expect we'll have a merry time." Still +he made no move to attack the geese, who stood motionless, facing him +like soldiers. + +"Well!" the rooster said impatiently. "Aren't you going to punish these +geese?" + +"Certainly not!" Turkey Proudfoot cried. "Why did you tag after me +across the yard if it wasn't to fight them? I've often heard that you +were usually spoiling for a fight. So here's your chance!" + +It was true, in a way, that the rooster was always ready to fight. Not +one of the cockerels on the farm dared to speak to him. But he always +took care to fight only such as he knew he could whip. Certainly he had +no desire to fight six geese all by himself. He drew back a little and +shook his head. + +"This is not my quarrel," he declared. + +"But you suggested it," Turkey Proudfoot reminded him. "And now I +suggest that you take it up. I did my part. You must do yours." + +A wild look came into the rooster's eyes. He wanted to run away. But he +was a proud bird. He thought a great deal of the _looks_ of things. And +he didn't know just what to do. + +Then something happened that suddenly made him act--and act quickly. The +six geese all took one step forward. + +The rooster turned tail and dashed around the barn, out of sight. And +Turkey Proudfoot found himself facing the six geese, who soon took one +more step towards him and hissed louder than ever. + +He had never felt so ill at ease in all his life. But he remembered that +he was the ruler of the turkey flock and the handsomest bird on the +farm. It would never do to have it said that he ran away from six silly +geese. + +"I'll scare 'em," he thought. Thereupon he burst into a deafening gobble +and took one step towards the geese. + +He had fully expected to see them fall back. What they actually did was +most annoying. Every one of them took another step towards him. + + + + +V + +A SAFE PERCH + + +As Turkey Proudfoot faced the six geese in the farmyard he began to feel +that he had made a great mistake in speaking to them. Their hisses were +far from agreeable. They were even threatening. + +"This will never do," Turkey Proudfoot muttered to himself. "No doubt I +could whip all six of them; but they'd be likely to pull some of my tail +feathers out. And I don't want my tail spoiled." For a moment or two he +didn't know what to do. But suddenly an idea popped into his head. + +"Follow me!" he ordered the geese. And wheeling about, he marched off +across the farmyard. + +The geese waddled after him. + +Perched on top of a wagon wheel in front of the barn, the rooster saw +the odd procession. And he gave voice loudly to his delight. + +"The geese are chasing Turkey Proudfoot!" he crowed. He called to +everybody to hurry and see the fun. And all the hens came a-running. + +"Nonsense!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I ordered the geese to follow me. +They're simply obeying orders." And he strutted, a little faster than +usual, toward the tree near the farmhouse where he roosted every night. + +"Halt!" he cried to the geese when they reached the tree. As he spoke, +Turkey Proudfoot flapped himself up and settled on a low branch. At last +he felt safe. He knew that the geese wouldn't follow him up there. With +their webbed feet they never roosted in trees. + +Meanwhile the hen turkeys had come a-running too, from the meadow. They +wanted to see what was going on. And they promptly fell into a loud +dispute with the rooster and the hens. + +"He did!" the hens cackled, meaning that Turkey Proudfoot had run away +from the geese. + +"He didn't!" the hen turkeys squalled, meaning that Turkey Proudfoot +hadn't been chased, but had _led_ the geese across the farmyard. + +The six geese took no part in the quarrel. They had driven Turkey +Proudfoot into the tree. And knowing that he wouldn't come down so long +as they waited there, they marched off in single file toward the duck +pond. + +"Where are you going?" the rooster asked them. + +The leader of the geese turned her head at him and hissed. And her five +companions turned their heads at him too, and hissed likewise. + +"I ordered them to go and have a swim," Turkey Proudfoot cried from his +tree, as soon as the geese were out of hearing. "I don't want them about +the farmyard. I haven't time to bother with them. Besides, they're so +stupid that I never could teach them anything. I walked ahead of them, +across the farmyard, to show them the stylish strut. But they couldn't +learn it. They'll waddle to the end of their days." + +"There!" cried the hen turkeys to the hens. "You hear what he says. The +geese weren't chasing him. He was trying to teach them to strut." + +"Huh!" exclaimed Henrietta Hen, who always spoke her mind right out. +"Turkey Proudfoot had better be careful. Some day those geese will teach +him how to waddle." + + + + +VI + +THE MIMIC + + +Young Master Meadow Mouse had often peeped at Turkey Proudfoot from +behind a clump of grass, or a hill of corn. But he had never dared show +himself to Turkey Proudfoot. Somehow the old gobbler looked terribly +fierce. And he was so big that Master Meadow Mouse didn't like the idea +of even saying "Good day!" to him. He had heard Turkey Proudfoot spoken +of as a "gobbler." Who knew but that a gobbler would gobble up young +Master Meadow Mouse if he had a chance? + +Unseen by everybody, Master Meadow Mouse had watched the geese drive +Turkey Proudfoot across the farmyard and seen him flapping up to roost +in a tree out of their reach. And though Turkey Proudfoot strutted and +tried to act very lordly as he headed the procession across the yard, +Master Meadow Mouse had noticed how Turkey Proudfoot kept a wary eye on +the geese behind him, and stepped not quite so high as he usually did, +but further. + +"Ho!" Master Meadow Mouse had piped to himself in his thin voice. +"Turkey Proudfoot is not the brave fellow I always thought him. He's +afraid of geese!" + +From that moment Master Meadow Mouse forgot his fear of Turkey +Proudfoot. Nobody stands in awe of a coward. So the very next time that +Master Meadow Mouse saw Turkey Proudfoot strutting in the yard he crept +up behind Turkey Proudfoot and tried to walk exactly like him. + +There were a good many farmyard fowls scratching about the yard at the +time, and wishing to appear at his best, Turkey Proudfoot spread his +tail, puffed out his chest, and strolled all around as if he--and and +not Farmer Green--owned the place. + +Although Turkey Proudfoot seemed to see none of his neighbors, +nevertheless he was watching them carefully out of the corner of his +eye, to see whether they were noticing him. + +They were. There was no doubt of that. + +Not only were they looking at him; they were laughing at him as well. + +Turkey Proudfoot's face couldn't grow red with rage. It was red already. +It was always red. Being very angry, he gobbled at the giggling hens, at +the rooster, even at old dog Spot, "Why are you laughing at me?" + +"We aren't!" they cried. "You've no reason to be angry with us." + +"'Tis well," said Turkey Proudfoot with a toplofty toss of his bald +head. "Since you're not laughing at me, you needn't laugh at all. I +don't like your sniggering." + +"We can't help laughing," a few of the more daring ones told him. "It's +so funny!" + +"What is?" + +"He is!" + +"Who is?" + +"Master Meadow Mouse!" + +"Master Meadow Mouse!" repeated Turkey Proudfoot in a bewildered +fashion. + +He looked in front of him. He looked to the left. He looked to the +right. He couldn't see Master Meadow Mouse anywhere. + +"Look behind you!" cried Henrietta Hen. + +Turkey Proudfoot turned his head. + +"I don't see any Master Meadow Mouse," he grumbled. + +"How can you, when your tail's spread like that?" Henrietta Hen asked +him. "Close up your tail and then you'll see what we're laughing at." + +But Turkey Proudfoot declined to do anything of the sort. + +"It's just a trick," he squalled. "You're all jealous of me and my +beautiful tail. You don't want me to carry my tail this way." + +Behind Turkey Proudfoot's tail Master Meadow Mouse did a very naughty +thing. He stuck out his tongue. And all the onlookers shrieked with +merriment. + + + + +VII + +HALF WRONG + + +It was no wonder that Turkey Proudfoot was angry. Everybody in the +farmyard was laughing and looking his way--or so it seemed to him. + +Since he couldn't see any joke, he decided to leave his silly neighbors +and go off into the fields where he could be alone. So he walked slowly +away, holding his head high and stepping in his most elegant manner. + +To his great disgust peals of laughter followed him. And though he had +intended to march off without saying a word, this last outburst so +filled him with rage that he couldn't resist spinning about to glare +and gobble at his tormentors. + +He turned so quickly that he surprised Master Meadow Mouse with one of +his tiny feet lifted high in the air. He surprised him so much that +Master Meadow Mouse stood stock still and didn't even bring his foot +down, but held it off the ground as if it had frozen stiff and couldn't +be moved. + +At first there was a most joyful look on Master Meadow Mouse's face. But +it faded instantly into one of doubt and dismay. To tell the truth, +Master Meadow Mouse hadn't expected Turkey Proudfoot to turn around and +catch him right in his mimicking act. + +"Ah, ha!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "So it's you that they're laughing at, +eh?" + +Master Meadow Mouse was so upset that he murmured faintly, "Yes, it's +me." + +"Well, I don't blame them," said Turkey Proudfoot. "You certainly look +very queer. Why are you holding your foot off the ground like that?" + +"I was in the midst of taking a step when you turned around and startled +me," Master Meadow Mouse explained. "And I don't know whether to set my +foot down ahead of me, or to put it behind me." + +"Don't be alarmed!" Turkey Proudfoot said. "I never fight folks of your +size. You're too little for me to pay much attention to. I must say, +however, that you have a very odd way of walking." + +By this time Master Meadow Mouse had recovered from his surprise and +wasn't afraid in the least. Now he laughed heartily. + +"I was walking the way you walk," he cried. + +"Oh, no!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "No, indeed! You certainly +weren't." He didn't ask Master Meadow Mouse's pardon for contradicting. + +"I'd like to know why I wasn't," Master Meadow Mouse replied somewhat +hotly. "I was strutting right behind you, all the way across the yard. +That's why everybody was giggling." + +"It's no wonder they were poking fun at you," Turkey Proudfoot told him. +"You amused the neighbors because you thought you were strutting, while +you really weren't." + +Master Meadow Mouse put his foot down on the ground. He was puzzled. + +"I don't know why I wasn't strutting," he retorted. "I was raising my +feet just as high as I could lift them." + +"Ah, yes?" said Turkey Proudfoot. "But you forgot one thing." + +"What was that?" + +"You didn't spread your tail," Turkey Proudfoot explained. "And that's +half of strutting." + +"I--I didn't know it," Master Meadow Mouse stammered. And then he darted +away, to hide in the grass beyond the fence. + +He felt much ashamed to have made such a mistake. + + + + +VIII + +HARD TO PLEASE + + +It was very hard to please Turkey Proudfoot. To be sure, he always +pleased himself. But nothing anyone else did seemed to suit him. And +there was one thing that always made him peevish. That was the gobbling +of the younger turkey cocks. + +To anybody that wasn't a turkey, their voices sounded just as sweet as +Turkey Proudfoot's. But he claimed that there was something wrong with +all gobbles except his own. Either they were too loud or too soft, too +high or too low, too long or too short. And whenever a young cock +gobbled in his hearing Turkey Proudfoot was sure to rush up to him and +order him to keep still, for pity's sake! + +They usually obeyed him. Not only was Turkey Proudfoot the biggest +gobbler on the farm, but he had a fierce and lordly look about him. It +was a bold young turkey cock that dared defy him. Once in a while one of +them foolishly ventured to tell Turkey Proudfoot to mind his own +affairs. And then there was sure to be a fight--a quick, short, noisy +fray which ended always in the same fashion, with Turkey Proudfoot +chasing the young cock out of the farmyard. + +Luckily for the youngsters, they could run faster than he could, for +they were not nearly as heavy. + +Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like to hear others gobble, +nevertheless he enjoyed the excuse for a fight that their gobbling gave +him. And when he had nothing more important to do he often stood still +and listened in the hope of hearing some upstart gobbler testing his +voice in a neighboring field. Newly grown cocks had to go a long way off +to be safe from Turkey Proudfoot's attacks. + +One day in the middle of the summer the lord of the turkey flock was +feeding behind the barn when a loud gobble brought his head up with a +jerk. + +"Ha!" Turkey Proudfoot cried. "That's somebody in the yard, around the +barn. He thinks I'm further away than this, or he'd never dare bawl like +that." + +Turkey Proudfoot dashed around the barn at a swift trot. He was +surprised to see not a turkey cock in the farmyard. The rooster was +there, however. And Turkey Proudfoot eyed him sternly. + +"You weren't trying to gobble a moment ago, were you?" he inquired. + +"No, indeed!" said the rooster. + +Turkey Proudfoot looked puzzled. + +"Somebody gobbled," he declared. "I'm sure the noise came from this +yard. I was behind the barn when I heard it. And I hurried around the +corner at once." + +"Maybe the person that gobbled ran around the other end of the barn, to +dodge you," the rooster suggested. + +"I'll go and see," said Turkey Proudfoot. And he went back where he came +from. + +He found nobody there. But that annoying gobble sounded again and +brought him back into the yard even faster than before. "Who did that?" +he squalled. + +And somebody mocked him. Somebody repeated his question after him. It +was the same voice that had gobbled. + +Turkey Proudfoot's rage was terrible to see. + + + + +IX + +A STRANGE GOBBLE + + +"Gobble, _gobble, gobble, gobble!_" + +Turkey Proudfoot stood in the farmyard and craned his neck in every +direction. That sound certainly was close at hand. Yet there wasn't a +turkey cock anywhere in sight, either on the ground or in the trees. + +Just for a moment Turkey Proudfoot was worried. + +"That wasn't _my_ gobble, was it?" he asked the rooster. "If I gobbled, +I didn't know it." + +"No! You didn't gobble," said the rooster, "though I must say that +gobbling sounded a good deal like yours." + +"_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_" + +"There it goes again!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. He was almost frantic. +"How can I fight that fellow if I can't see him?" he cried. He looked up +at the roof of the barn; but there was no one there except the gilded +rooster that told which way the wind blew. He looked up at the roof of +the farmhouse. + +"You don't suppose that fellow's hiding in the chimney, do you?" he +asked. + +"No doubt he is," said the rooster. "If I were you I'd fly up there and +catch him." + +"The roof's high for one of my weight to fly to," Turkey Proudfoot +remarked. + +"Still, I could flap up to the top of the woodshed and get to the roof +of the house from there.... I'll take a look and see how high the house +seems when I'm near it." + +[Illustration: Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot's Gobble. (_Page_ 42)] + +To the rooster's delight, Turkey Proudfoot started towards the house. +The rooster promptly called to all the hens to "come quick," because +Turkey Proudfoot was going to fly to the roof of the farmhouse. "I hope +he won't get into trouble," said the rooster with a chuckle. "It would +be a pity if he fell down the chimney." + +In spite of his words, the rooster didn't look at all uneasy. Indeed, +the only thing that worried him was the fear that Turkey Proudfoot +_wouldn't_ get himself into a scrape. But he thought it more polite not +to say exactly what he hoped. + +Turkey Proudfoot stalked up to the farmhouse and stopped near the +piazza. He was gazing upwards and measuring the height of the roof with +his eye when all at once a loud "_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_" +almost tipped him over backward. + +The outcry came from the farmhouse. There was no doubt of that. But it +didn't come from the roof, nor the chimney. + +Turkey Proudfoot stared at the windows and the doors and saw no one +except Miss Kitty Cat, dozing on a window sill. Then something moved +beneath the piazza ceiling. It was a cage, which swayed as a green +figure clung to the wires on one side of it. + +"I'm a handsome bird," a voice informed Turkey Proudfoot. "_Gobble, +gobble, gobble, gobble!_" + +For once in his life Turkey Proudfoot hadn't a word to say. For the +moment he was struck dumb. + +At last he found his voice. "Who are you?" he bellowed. + +"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" + +"Don't laugh at me!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. + +"Polly wants a cracker," said the green bird. + +A few quick steps brought Turkey Proudfoot upon the piazza, nearer the +cage where the annoying green person swung and made queer, throaty +noises--sounds which only angered Turkey Proud foot the more. + +Turkey Proudfoot took a little run and rose into the air, to crash +against the cage and then fall flapping upon the piazza floor. + +The green person shrieked. And the hired man, with an axe in his hand, +peered out of the woodshed door. + +"Here, you old gobbler! You leave our Polly alone!" he called. And he +ran out and gave Turkey Proudfoot a sharp rap with the axe helve. + +Turkey Proudfoot ran off and hid behind the barn and sulked. + +"There's a bird around here," he muttered, "that mocks Miss Kitty Cat; +and they call him a Cat Bird. Now, here's a bird that mocks me; so I +should think they'd call him a Turkey Bird. But they don't. I heard the +hired man call him Pretty Polly. + +"Pretty Polly indeed!" Turkey Proudfoot sniffed. "That creature is +nothing but a bunch of green feathers and a loud voice." + + + + +X + +THE WORM TURNS + + +Henrietta Hen had no love for Turkey Proudfoot. Beginning with the days +of her chickenhood he had always ordered her about, telling her not to +do this and not to do that. Even after she was grown up and had a family +of her own, Turkey Proudfoot treated her as if she had just begun to +scratch for herself. + +If Henrietta Hen found a spot where somebody had spilled a few kernels +of corn Turkey Proudfoot was more than likely to rush up to her and cry, +"Go away! I've had my eye on that corn for some time. I saw it first." + +On such occasions there was nothing Henrietta Hen could do except to +stand aside and look on while Turkey Proudfoot ate the corn. He was so +much bigger than she that he could bowl her over easily. + +On her own account Henrietta didn't really think it worth while to try +to make any trouble for Turkey Proudfoot. But when she led her first +brood of chicks into the yard to teach them to find food for themselves, +Turkey Proudfoot's lordly ways made her very angry. + +"Move your family over on the gravel drive!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered +her. + +Henrietta Hen said flatly that she wouldn't. + +"There are no bugs--no worms--in the gravel," she told him. "My chicks +have a right to go anywhere on this farm." + +Turkey Proudfoot looked at her in amazement. Never before had Henrietta +Hen spoken to him in such a way. + +"Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you forgetting your manners, +Henrietta?" + +"No, I'm not!" she snapped. "I've stood too much from you all my life. I +warn you now that the worm has turned." + +Turkey Proudfoot glanced quickly down at the ground. + +"Where's the worm?" he asked. "Point him out to me before he gets away." + +"There!" cried Henrietta Hen. "That's just like you. If anybody spies a +worm, you think you ought to have it." + +"Come! come!" Turkey Proudfoot coaxed her. "Don't let's quarrel over a +mere trifle such as a worm. Just you show me where you saw him turn and +I'll show you how to snatch a worm up in the neatest and quickest +fashion." + +Henrietta Hen tossed her handsome head. + +"The worm I was talking about is right before you," she sniffed. "If you +can't see it, I shan't help you." + +Of course she had been talking of herself when she remarked that the +worm had turned. She had meant that she had always allowed Turkey +Proudfoot to treat her like a worm under his feet. But at last she had +made up her mind that he shouldn't order her about any longer. + +Meanwhile Turkey Proudfoot was fast losing his temper. + +"You've caused me to lose a fine, fat worm; and you shall suffer for +it!" he scolded. "The only thing for you to do is to offer me a fine, +fat chick in its place." + +At that Henrietta Hen set up a great clamor. + +"I'll do nothing of the sort!" she shrieked. And then she screamed for +the rooster. "Come quick, Mr. Rooster! Help! Help!" + + + + +XI + +BLUSTER + + +Soon after Henrietta Hen shrieked for the rooster he came hurrying +around a corner of the barn. When he saw Turkey Proudfoot towering above +Henrietta and her new brood of chicks in the middle of the farmyard he +stopped short. To tell the truth, the rooster was afraid of Turkey +Proudfoot and usually took pains to keep out of his way. + +"Go back!" Turkey Proudfoot called to him. "You're not needed here. +There's been a little difficulty; but I can settle it myself." + +"Oh, very well!" the rooster replied. "I'm glad there's no great +trouble. When I heard Henrietta calling me I thought she was in danger." +He turned, then, to slink away behind the barn. + +"Don't desert me!" Henrietta Hen besought him. "Help! Help!" + +Turkey Proudfoot waved a wing at the rooster. + +"Don't pay any attention to her!" he said. "She's excited. I'll have her +calmed down in no time." + +"Of course I'm excited!" Henrietta Hen cried. "Don't let him deceive +you, Mr. Rooster! He's been threatening me!" + +Turkey Proudfoot bade her, in an undertone, to be quiet. + +"Go along about your business," he told the rooster. "She's mistaken. I +haven't said I'd harm her." + +"No! But he's talking about eating one of my chicks! And that's worse," +Henrietta screamed. "If you're as brave as I always supposed, Mr. +Rooster, you'll defend my family." + +Although the rooster was terribly frightened, and wanted to run away, he +simply couldn't desert Henrietta Hen. + +"She's a nuisance," he muttered as he marched across the farmyard. "I +don't see why she wanted to bring her chicks out here where Turkey +Proudfoot would see them. She's landed me in a scrape. There won't be +much left of me when that old gobbler gets through with me." + +Nevertheless the rooster put on a bold front. Drawing himself up to look +his tallest, he glared at Turkey Proudfoot and said shrilly, "What do +you mean by annoying this lady?" + +Turkey Proudfoot gulped. He wondered what had come over his neighbors. +The rooster had always acted afraid of him. Though small, the rooster +was strongly built. And he had a sharp bill and sharp spurs, too. Turkey +Proudfoot noted these details carefully. + +"I won't have to fight him," he thought. "I'll behave so fiercely that +the rooster will be glad to run off. And then I'll run after him so +folks will think I am chasing him." + +Turkey Proudfoot then began to bluster. He gobbled loudly, without +saying anything at all. He even made a few quick passes at the rooster +with his bill. + +To his dismay, the rooster merely dodged. He didn't turn tail and run, +as Turkey Proudfoot had hoped he would. + +"I'll have to try something else," Turkey Proudfoot said to himself. So +he flapped his wings and jumped up and down and around the rooster. + +The rooster was very ill at ease. But he didn't let Turkey Proudfoot +know that. He kept turning about, so that he faced Turkey Proudfoot all +the time. And he said to Henrietta Hen: "Gather your chicks and get them +out of the way. There's going to be trouble here." + +Henrietta Hen obeyed him without a word. And she had no sooner shooed +her youngsters into the chicken house than Turkey Proudfoot gave a loud +laugh--a somewhat forced, yet loud laugh. + +"You're just the sort of bird I like," he told the rooster. "I've been +testing you to see if you were brave. I'm delighted to find that you +are. And I suggest that you and I stand by each other and run things in +this yard to suit ourselves. When folks don't do as I tell them to, you +and I will attend to them." + +"Agreed!" cried the rooster. He was greatly flattered. "We'll make the +neighbors step lively." And off he went, to find Henrietta Hen and tell +her how he and Turkey Proudfoot were going to help each other. + +"You're even sillier than I supposed," she informed the rooster, to his +great astonishment. He had expected nothing but praise from her. + +He left her hurriedly. And he felt quite glum. + +"She's just like the whole Hen family," he grumbled. "You never can tell +what they're going to do or what they're going to say. They may squawk +and cross the road; they may cross the road and not squawk; they may +squawk and not cross the road; they may not cross the road and not +squawk. I don't believe they know themselves what they are going to do +next." + + + + +XII + +MR. CROW'S NEWS + + +There was no denying that the rooster at Farmer Green's place had +handsome tail feathers. But they were as nothing, compared with Turkey +Proudfoot's. Not only were the rooster's fewer in number; but he +couldn't spread them, fan-fashion. + +Mr. Grouse, who lived in the woods, beyond the pasture, could spread his +tail. But he was a much smaller bird than Turkey Proudfoot and his tail +wasn't nearly as big. + +Turkey Proudfoot often remarked that he had no rival. To be sure, there +were young gobblers on the farm. But in the matter of tails, Turkey +Proudfoot outshone them all. + +Farmer Green once had another turkey cock that bade fair to have as fine +a tail as Turkey Proudfoot's. And for a time this gentleman made Turkey +Proudfoot feel a bit uneasy. + +"I'll have to fight him and pull out some of his tail feathers," Turkey +Proudfoot decided. + +But on the very day, in the fall, when Turkey Proudfoot intended to pick +a quarrel with this person--and spoil his fatal beauty--he was missing. +And oddly enough, nobody ever saw him around the farmyard again. + +Turkey Proudfoot went so far as to hint that he had scared the fellow +away. Not many believed that that was what happened, however. For old +dog Spot claimed to have seen one of the missing gobbler's wings +hanging in the kitchen of the farmhouse. + +"Mrs. Green uses it for a brush," Spot had explained. + +When he heard that story Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed, "Nonsense! A Fox's +tail is a brush. But a Turkey's wing is a wing. Old dog Spot doesn't +know what he's talking about. No doubt Mrs. Green has a Fox's brush +hanging up beside her kitchen range." + +Still, most of the farmyard folks insisted that the missing gobbler had +met with an accident. Anyhow, the question as to what had become of him +didn't trouble Turkey Proudfoot. The fellow was gone. And there wasn't +another young gobbler on the farm that was likely to have a tail out of +the ordinary. So Turkey Proudfoot was content. + +His peace of mind lasted only a few days. He was ranging through the +meadow one morning when he heard a great commotion in the farmyard. Old +Mr. Crow soon came sailing over from the edge of the woods to see what +was the matter. And after a while he went sailing back again. On his way +he stopped to drop down into the meadow and speak to Turkey Proudfoot. + +"You ought to hurry home," Mr. Crow croaked. "Johnnie Green has a new +pet. You ought to see him." + +"Johnnie Green's pets don't interest me," Turkey Proudfoot sniffed. +"He's never owned a pet yet that had a tail worth looking at twice. As +for his Guinea Pigs--well, they haven't tails that you could look at +even once. They haven't any tails at all. I must say I don't admire +Johnnie Green's taste in pets," said Turkey Proudfoot. + +"Ah! This one is different," Mr. Crow told him with a hoarse laugh. +"When you see his tail you'll fold yours up in a hurry. And you'll never +spread it again." + +"Impossible!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "Impossible!" He was so angry with +Mr. Crow that he couldn't say anything more. + +For all that, he strode away towards the farmyard. And he had a most +uneasy feeling under his wishbone. + + + + +XIII + +THE NEW PET + + +Turkey Proudfoot came hurrying back to the farmyard from the meadow +where Mr. Crow had stopped and advised him to go home and see Johnnie +Green's new pet. + +When Turkey Proudfoot scurried around the barn he found everybody all +a-flutter. No one paid any attention to Turkey Proudfoot, though he +spread his tail and strutted up to his neighbors with a most important +air. + +"What's going on here?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded in his most lordly +tone. + +Henrietta Hen went out of her way to answer him. "Johnnie Green has a +new pet," she explained. "He's a wonderful creature." + +"I don't think much of him," said the rooster. He had a surly look, as +if something--perhaps a pebble--had stuck in his crop. + +"I can't quite swallow this new pet," the rooster told Turkey Proudfoot. + +"Ah! You haven't seen him with his tail spread!" Henrietta Hen +exclaimed. "His tail is simply gorgeous." + +His tail! That was exactly what old Mr. Crow had mentioned. "Oh, well!" +Turkey Proudfoot thought. "I'm foolish to be stirred up over this +affair. The new pet's tail can't be as grand as mine. There's nothing +for me to worry about." + +But there was. What Henrietta Hen said with her next breath made Turkey +Proudfoot miserable. + +"You'd better put down your tail," she advised him. + +"Put down my tail!" he squawked. "Anybody would think you were talking +about an umbrella. What's wrong with my tail, madam? I hope you don't +think I'm ashamed of it." + +"I fear you will be, when you see Johnnie Green's new pet," Henrietta +Hen rattled on. "You'll want to hide your tail then." + +"Stop!" cried Turkey Proudfoot sternly. "You have said too much." + +"Good!" the rooster chimed in. "I agree with you. She always talks too +much." Once such a remark about Henrietta Hen would have made the +rooster angry. Now, however, it pleased him. + +"I know what's the matter with you," Henrietta Hen told the rooster. +"Your nose is out of joint." + +"I beg your pardon," said the rooster. "My nose--and by that no doubt +you mean my bill--is _not_ out of joint." + +"Oh, yes it is!" she insisted. "And Turkey Proudfoot's will be out of +joint too, as soon as he sees the newcomer." + +"Where is he?" Turkey Proudfoot suddenly demanded. "Let me have a look +at him! I'll soon show _him_ whether there's anything wrong with my +bill." He puffed himself up and looked very fierce. + +To his amazement, Henrietta Hen only laughed. + +"Tell that to the new pet!" she said. "You'll find him in front of the +farmhouse." + +Turkey Proudfoot didn't thank her. He was so angry that he was almost +choking. And he strode off with a gleam in his eyes that the younger +gobblers knew only too well--and feared. + +[Illustration: The Peacock Ignores Turkey Proudfoot. (_Page_ 67)] + +On the lawn before Farmer Green's house Turkey Proudfoot saw such a +sight as he had never expected to behold. A big bird stood proudly on +the grass plot, looking for all the world as if he owned not only the +house, but the whole farm. His colors were like the blues and greens of +a rainbow. And behind him he carried aloft a tail that made Turkey +Proudfoot all but ill with envy. + +"Who-who-who is this person?" Turkey Proudfoot gasped, turning to old +dog Spot. + +"Don't you know?" said Spot. "He's Johnnie Green's new pet. He's the +Peacock." + + + + +XIV + +A PROUD PERSON + + +The peacock in front of the farmhouse paid no heed to Turkey Proudfoot, +but moved very slowly and very haughtily about the lawn. His huge tail +was spread like a sail. In the light summer breeze it swayed and +rippled, sending out a thousand shimmering gleams. And on his tail were +dozens of eyes. At least they looked like eyes to Turkey Proudfoot. And +they all seemed to be trying to out-stare him. + +For a minute or two Turkey Proudfoot glared at this newcomer--this new +pet of Johnnie Green's. Then, after first spreading his own tail to its +fullest size, he swaggered up to the peacock. + +"You needn't pretend not to see me," Turkey Proudfoot gobbled. "You +can't fool me. You've a hundred eyes on your tail. And they've been +looking at me steadily." + +The peacock calmly turned his head and glanced at Turkey Proudfoot. He +did not answer. + +Turkey Proudfoot thrust his own head forward. + +"Maybe I'm not good enough for you to speak to," he began. "Maybe I'm +not enough of a dandy--" + +Just then somebody interrupted him. It was Henrietta Hen. Being a prying +sort of person she had followed Turkey Proudfoot around the house to see +what happened when he and the newcomer met. + +"Don't be rude to this gentleman," said Henrietta Hen. "He hasn't +spoken since he arrived in the wagon an hour ago. We've about decided +that he is dumb. And it's a great pity if he is. No doubt his voice--if +he had one--would be as beautiful as his tail." + +At that the peacock opened his mouth. Out of it there came the harshest +sounds that had ever been heard on the farm. Turkey Proudfoot was so +startled that he threw his head into the air and took several steps +backward. As for Henrietta Hen, she cackled in terror and ran out of the +yard and crossed the road, where she narrowly escaped being run over by +a passing wagon. + +"My goodness!" Turkey Proudfoot thought. "It's no wonder this Peacock +doesn't talk much. If I had a voice like his I'd never use it." He +didn't know what the peacock had said. Somehow his voice was so awful +that Turkey Proudfoot had caught no actual words that meant anything to +him. + +Again the peacock screamed. Henrietta Hen heard him. And she was so +flustered that she ran back and forth across the road three times and +was almost trampled on by a horse. + +At last Turkey Proudfoot understood what the peacock said. "Are you a +barnyard fowl?" he had asked. + +"Yes, I am," said Turkey Proudfoot. "Aren't you?" + +"No!" the peacock replied. "My place is out here in front of the house +where people can see me when they drive by.... Probably," he added, "we +shan't see much of each other." + +So saying, he walked stiffly away and mounted the stone wall, where +passing travellers would be sure to notice him and admire his beauty. + +All this was a terrible blow to Turkey Proudfoot. For a moment he was +tempted to rush at the haughty stranger and tear his handsome feathers +into tatters. But the peacock looked so huge, standing on top of the +wall with his great tail rising above him, and his voice was so +frightfully loud and harsh, that Turkey Proudfoot didn't even dare +threaten him. And that was something unusual for one who had long +claimed to be ruler of the farmyard. + + + + +XV + +MRS. WREN'S ADVICE + + +Turkey Proudfoot never knew that the peacock was no bigger than he was. +The elegant creature had such a huge tail and such a loud, harsh voice +that Turkey Proudfoot stood in great awe of him. + +Being very peevish, after his first meeting with the peacock, Turkey +Proudfoot went behind the barn and found a young gobbler and gave him a +terrible drubbing. Then Turkey Proudfoot felt better. + +That night he roosted in a tree near the farmhouse. And in the morning +when he awoke no thought of the peacock entered his head. He indulged in +a few early morning gobbles--according to his custom--when a rasping +scream reminded him of his hated rival. The peacock had slept in another +tree not far away, even nearer the farmhouse than Turkey Proudfoot's. + +"Huh!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "Farmer Green won't care for that racket +every morning just outside his window. And neither will Rusty Wren. He +always goes to the trouble of waking Farmer Green with his singing. This +new pet of Johnnie's has taken it upon himself to do Rusty's work." + +It was true that Rusty Wren was upset. He scolded a good deal to his +wife that day about the peacock. + +"There's no use of my singing a dawn song beneath Farmer Green's window +any more," Rusty Wren grumbled. "The terrible squalls of this new bird +will disturb everybody in the valley." + +"Don't be silly!" said Mrs. Wren. "Don't be silly like Turkey Proudfoot. +He's making himself miserable because the Peacock has a tail that sticks +up higher than his. How absurd," she cried, "to be proud like Turkey +Proudfoot, just because your tail happens to stick up in the air. Why, +yours and mine stick up. But we don't go around boasting about them. And +if somebody else has a stickier-up tail, why worry about it? And if +somebody else with a louder voice can wake Farmer Green better than you +can, why worry about that? Let the Peacock scream if he wants to!" + +"And _I_--" cried Turkey Proudfoot, who had been standing beneath the +tree where Mr. and Mrs. Wren were talking--"_I_ say, let the Peacock +parade in the front yard if he wants to. I certainly shan't visit him +there. I'll parade behind the farmhouse." + +When Turkey Proudfoot first spoke up like that, Rusty Wren and his wife +gave each other an uneasy look. They had expected him to be angry. And +now, with an air of great relief, Mrs. Wren exclaimed: + +"I apologize to you, Mr. Turkey Proudfoot. You're not as silly as I +supposed. You're not as vain as I thought you were. I begin to think +we've been mistaken about you all these years." + +"You certainly have been," Turkey Proudfoot declared. "I'm not vain at +all and I'm glad I haven't the Peacock's horrid, harsh voice. Mine is +much more beautiful than his. And nobody can deny it." + +"_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_" + + + + +XVI + +DRUMMING ON A LOG + + +Turkey Proudfoot was not always content to stay in the farmyard. +Although Farmer Green fed him well, he liked to range over the fields in +search of extra tidbits, such as grain, seeds and insects. Sometimes he +wandered even as far as the pasture. And one day he strayed into the +edge of the woods beyond the pasture fence. + +There he discovered a beech tree. And Turkey Proudfoot was enjoying the +nuts that he found on the ground beneath it when all at once a +_thump-thump-thump_ startled him. He raised his head and listened. The +thumping sound came faster and faster, then died away in a rumble. + +"Ho! It's only Johnnie Green drumming. Probably his mother wouldn't let +him drum near the farmhouse, so he came to the woods where she couldn't +hear him." + +Turkey Proudfoot paid no more heed to the drumming, which rolled through +the woods now and then. He went on with his search for beechnuts. But at +last a thought popped into his head. "Johnnie Green must be eating most +of the time, or he'd drum oftener," Turkey Proudfoot muttered. "He must +have found a beech tree." + +Soon Turkey Proudfoot decided to join Johnnie Green. He hoped that +beechnuts were more plentiful beneath Johnnie's tree. So Turkey +Proudfoot picked his way slowly through the underbrush. And guided by +the _thump-thump-thump_ which once in a while boomed upon his ears, at +last Turkey Proudfoot came into a little clearing. + +There on a log sat a speckly, feathered, short-necked gentleman with a +tail spread in much the fashion in which Turkey Proudfoot so often +carried his own. + +Turkey Proudfoot drew back behind a bush, out of sight. + +"I'll show that bird a tail that _is_ a tail," he muttered to himself. +So he spread his tail and then stepped proudly forth. A dry twig snapped +beneath his weight. At that sound the stranger on the log turned his +head quickly. Just for an instant there was an eager look on his face. +But when he beheld Turkey Proudfoot it changed to one of +disappointment. + +"Who are you?" the stranger asked in none too pleasant a tone. + +"I'm Turkey Proudfoot," said the ruler of the farmyard. "I live down the +hill at Farmer Green's place." + +"Then you'd better go home where you belong," said the stranger on the +log. "I was expecting some one. I've been drumming for a friend. And +when I heard you step on that dry twig I thought she'd come. I had my +tail spread in her honor." + +"Drum again!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered. "Call your friend at once and +I'll show her a tail that is a tail. Yours is no bigger than Mrs. +Green's fan." + +The stranger made no move to obey. He appeared somewhat sulky. + +"What's your name?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded. + +"I'm Mr. Grouse," the stranger snapped out. "I supposed everybody in +Pleasant Valley knew me. My drumming is famous." + +"Indeed!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I thought it was Johnnie Green making +that noise." + +"No wonder!" Mr. Grouse sniffed. "You're only a barnyard fowl. You can't +be expected to know anything about us game birds." + + + + +XVII + +A GAME BIRD + + +Mr. Grouse moved back and forth upon his log in the clearing in the +woods. And casting a withering glance at Turkey Proudfoot, he said, +"It's plain that you don't know what a game bird is. Men--and boys, +too--come into the woods with guns to hunt us. And we make game of them +by rising swiftly with a loud _whir_ and flying off before they have +time to shoot us." + +Turkey Proudfoot gaped at Mr. Grouse. + +"Don't they ever hit you?" he faltered. + +"They've never shot me," said Mr. Grouse. "Once a hunter knocked out +one of my tail feathers. But that was only an accident." + +[Illustration: Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat with Mr. Grouse. (_Page_ 80)] + +"I shouldn't care to be a game bird," Turkey Proudfoot remarked. "I'm +sure it's much safer living at the farmyard." + +Mr. Grouse gave him an odd look. One winter when food was scarce in the +woods he had flown down to the farmyard. And he remembered seeing turkey +feathers scattered about the chopping block near the woodpile. + +"How do you usually spend the holidays?" he asked. + +"Last Fourth of July I went up in the haymow and kept out of sight all +day," said Turkey Proudfoot. "I don't like firecrackers." + +Mr. Grouse nodded his head. + +"I don't blame you for that," he observed. "Firecrackers sound too much +like guns.... But I wasn't thinking of the Fourth of July," he went on. +"When I asked how you spent the holidays I was thinking more of those to +come. Now, Thanksgiving Day isn't a long way off. Have you made any +plans for that?" + +When he mentioned Thanksgiving Day Turkey Proudfoot gave a sudden start. + +"For goodness' sake, don't speak of that now!" he cried. "I came to the +woods to enjoy myself. And now you're trying to spoil my good time." + +Mr. Grouse could see that Turkey Proudfoot was angry. And being rather +peppery himself, he was tempted to say something sharp--something about +_axes_, which are always sharp unless they're dull. But Mr. Grouse +managed to control his temper. After all, he thought, it was no wonder +that Turkey Proudfoot didn't want to hear about Thanksgiving Day. + +"Pardon me!" said Mr. Grouse. "I only brought up this matter in a +cousinly kind of way." + +"Cousinly!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "You and I, sir, are total strangers +to each other." + +"Well, we ought not to be," said Mr. Grouse. "It's time we got +acquainted with each other. Didn't you know that your family and mine +are related?" + +"No!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "No! I never knew it." + +"It's the truth," Mr. Grouse told him. "Don't you think we look a bit +alike, except that my neck is somewhat short, and yours is long and +skinny? And of course my head is feathered out, while yours is bald and +red." + +"That will do!" Turkey Proudfoot gobbled angrily. "Even if you are my +cousin you needn't make such remarks about me." + +Mr. Grouse begged his pardon again. + +"I was only pointing out the differences between us," he explained. "But +if they displease you, I'll speak of the ways in which we are alike. +Now, take our tails--" + +"I won't!" Turkey Proudfoot squalled. "I'll take my own tail wherever I +go. But I won't take yours." + + + + +XVIII + +RED LIGHTNING + + +"What's the matter with my tail!" cried Mr. Grouse. + +"It's too small," Turkey Proudfoot declared. "Now, if you want to see a +tail that _is_ a tail--" + +"I don't!" cried Mr. Grouse. "Not if you want me to look at yours! In +fact, I don't care to talk with you any more. I was going to suggest a +pleasant way for you to spend Thanksgiving Day. But nothing I say seems +to please you. Besides, you began to boast about your tail the moment +you entered this clearing. And if there's anybody I can't endure, it's +a boaster." He was a rough and ready sort of fellow--this Mr. Grouse. +When he had anything to say he didn't go beating about the bush. He came +right out in the open and spoke his mind freely. + +You might think that Turkey Proudfoot would have taken his cousin's +remarks to heart. But he didn't. He was so pleased with his own tail +that to him it was the biggest thing in the world. Indeed, when he +spread his tail and looked at it he could see nothing else. + +"You are jealous," he told Mr. Grouse. "And I can't blame you. It's only +natural that you should look at my tail with envy. Everybody does down +at the farmyard." + +Turkey Proudfoot must have forgotten all about the peacock, when he +spoke. Anyhow, he gazed around at his tail with great admiration. + +All at once there was a terrible, loud _whirring_ sound. Turkey +Proudfoot started up in alarm. To his amazement, where Mr. Grouse had +been sitting on the log there was now nothing at all. + +"Up! Up!" It was Mr. Grouse's voice that Turkey Proudfoot heard; and it +seemed to come from the tree right above his head. + +Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like to obey anybody's orders--and +certainly not Mr. Grouse's--there was a note of alarm in the cry that +made him squall with terror. He started to run, flapping his wings +awkwardly. And just as he rose into the air a reddish, brownish streak +flashed beneath him. + +Turkey Proudfoot settled himself on a branch of an old oak and looked +down at a sharp-faced, grinning person who leered up at him. It was +Tommy Fox. And though he looked very pleasant, inside he was feeling +quite peevish. If it hadn't been for Mr. Grouse's warning he would +surely have captured Turkey Proudfoot. + +It was like Turkey Proudfoot not to thank his cousin. And it was like +him, too, to fly into a rage. + +"You might have warned me sooner," he complained to Mr. Grouse. "That +red rascal is quick as lightning. He almost caught me." + +"I thought you'd follow me when you saw me rise," said Mr. Grouse. + +"I didn't see you." + +"Well, you _heard_ me, didn't you?" + +"I heard a _whirring_ sound," said Turkey Proudfoot, "but I didn't know +what it was." + +"Great snakes!" cried Mr. Grouse. "Farmer Green ought not to let you +come into the woods--not if he expects you to spend Thanksgiving Day +with him!" + +Tommy Fox chuckled at that remark. + +But Turkey Proudfoot never let on that he heard it. He crouched lower +upon the limb of the oak tree and pretended to fall asleep. + +Daylight was fast fading. + + + + +XIX + +NIGHT IN THE WOODS + + +Mr. Grouse and Tommy Fox soon went about their business, leaving Turkey +Proudfoot to roost in the oak tree in the woods. + +Though he pretended to be fast asleep, Turkey Proudfoot had kept one eye +slightly open. He had seen Tommy Fox trot away toward the pasture. He +had heard Mr. Grouse go _whirring_ off into the depths of the woods. + +"It's too late to go back to the farmyard this evening," Turkey +Proudfoot grumbled. "It's almost dusk already. And there's no telling +about Tommy Fox. He may be hiding behind a tree, ready to pounce on me +the moment I alight on the ground." + +Turkey Proudfoot actually began to feel a bit sleepy. He was in the +habit of going early to roost anyhow. So he huddled low on the branch of +the oak tree. And soon he was in the land of dreams. + +He slept a long time. And while he slept a number of things happened of +which he knew nothing. + +Tommy Fox came stealing back in the moonlight and gazed up at him with +longing eyes. + +Miss Kitty Cat, who had prowled through the pasture on a hunt for field +mice, spied him. "I declare, that's Turkey Proudfoot!" she exclaimed. +"He must have got lost up here. I certainly shan't wake him and tell him +the way home. If I spoke to him he'd be sure to gobble and scare away +all the mice in the neighborhood." + +Benjamin Bat came zigzagging through the air and all but blundered into +Turkey Proudfoot. Missing him by the breadth of a wing, Benjamin Bat +hung head downward from a near-by limb and stared at the sleeping form. +"Hello!" he squeaked. "Here's a newcomer in these woods. I should think +he'd cling to that limb upside down. He'd find it a much safer way than +sitting on top of the limb." Benjamin Bat was on the point of rousing +Turkey Proudfoot and advising him to change his position when a +quavering whistle sent Benjamin hurrying away. He knew the voice of +Simon Screecher, Solomon Owl's small cousin. And he had no wish to meet +him. + +Turkey Proudfoot stirred in his sleep. He was dreaming--dreaming that +Johnnie Green was whistling to old dog Spot to come and drive Turkey +Proudfoot out of the newly planted cornfield. The whistling seemed to +come nearer and nearer. "I won't stir for old Spot," Turkey Proudfoot +gobbled aloud in his sleep. + +"Maybe you'll stir for me," cried a strange voice. And Turkey Proudfoot +woke up with a start. + +"Where am I?" he bawled. For a moment he couldn't remember having gone +to sleep in the woods. + +"You're right up under Blue Mountain," said Simon Screecher. "It's a +dangerous place for a stranger to sleep. There are birds and beasts +a-plenty in these woods that would make a meal of you if they caught you +here." + +Turkey Proudfoot yawned. + +"I'm not worrying," he replied. "Foxes can't climb trees. And I'm as +big as any bird in the neighborhood." + +"You're as big--yes! And bigger than most!" Simon Screecher admitted. +"But it isn't bigness alone that counts in the woods," he insisted. + +"What does count, then?" Turkey + +Proudfoot demanded. + +"You ought to be able to guess," said Simon Screecher. "It's right in +front of your eyes." + + + + +XX + +BEAKS AND BILLS + + +Turkey Proudfoot was a poor guesser. There in the woods, at night, Simon +Screecher the owl had told him of something that "counted," something +that was right in front of Turkey Proudfoot's eyes. And Turkey Proudfoot +named everything he could think of. He mentioned the oak tree in which +he sat, the darkness, the yellow moon. + +"You're wrong!" Simon Screecher kept telling him. "You're getting +further away with every guess. I suppose I'll have to tell you what I +mean: it's your beak. And if that isn't right in front of your eyes, I +don't know what is." + +"My beak!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "I don't call my bill my beak. I call +my beak my bill." + +"Well, beak or bill, yours is a useless thing," Simon Screecher sneered. +"It may do well enough to pick up a kernel of corn. But it can't be much +good as a weapon. It ought to be sharp and hooked to be of any use in a +fight." + +With every word that Simon Screecher said, Turkey Proudfoot was growing +angrier. + +"There's nothing wrong with my bill," he clamored. "I've had plenty of +fights in the farmyard. The fowls are all afraid of me at home." + +Simon Screecher gave a most disagreeable laugh. + +"I wasn't thinking of farmyard fights," he sniffed. "If Fatty Coon or +Grumpy Weasel or my cousin Solomon Owl grabbed you, you'd find that a +fight in the woods is a very different matter from a mere barnyard +squabble." + +Turkey Proudfoot was furious. + +"If you'll come over here on this limb I'll peck you," he cried. + +"Huh! We don't fight that way in the woods," Simon Screecher retorted. +"We don't peck. We tear-r-r-r!" + +He rolled out the last word in a long-drawn quaver which gave it a +horrid sound--especially in the woods, after dark. And Turkey Proudfoot +felt chills a-running up and down his back. + +"A-ahem! You-you needn't bother to come over here," he stammered. "I-I +shouldn't like to peck you. You-er-you seem to be a very pleasant sort +of person." + +"Well, I'm not!" Simon Screecher informed him. "And you ought to see my +cousin, Solomon Owl. He's a _terrible_ fellow." + +Turkey Proudfoot's wishbone seemed to be trying to come up into his +month. At least, he had to swallow several times before he could answer. + +"I'd like to see your cousin," he replied, "but not to-night." + +He had scarcely finished speaking when a loud call came booming through +the woods: "_Whooo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, to-whoo-ah!_" + +"Who's that?" gasped Turkey Proudfoot. + +"That's my cousin, Solomon Owl," Simon Screecher explained. "And he's +not far away." + +"My goodness!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "If he's as big as his voice +he must be enormous." + +"He's twice my size," said Simon Screecher. "Not nearly as big as you +are, of course! But you ought to see his beak. I do believe he could +tear you into--" + +"I don't want to see him to-night," Turkey Proudfoot interrupted. "I +hope he won't come this way. Go and find him. And tell him to meet me +here _to-morrow_ night." + + + + +XXI + +FARMYARD MANNERS + + +"Oh, very well!" said Simon Screecher to Turkey Proudfoot. "I'll give my +cousin your message. I'll tell him that you want him to meet you here in +this clearing in the woods to-morrow night." So off Simon Screecher +flew. + +He had not been gone long when a noisy "_haw-haw-hoo-hoo_" rolled and +echoed through the woods. + +"He's laughing!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "Solomon Owl is laughing. I +wonder what the joke is." He was so curious to know that he actually +began to wish that Simon Screecher would hurry back. And after a little +while he did. + +"What was the joke?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded. "I heard you cousin +laughing." + +"Solomon Owl says that he doesn't care to meet you at all," Simon +Screecher explained. "He says he has heard about you before and that +you're a tough old bird." + +"I'm not!" Turkey shrieked. "I'm very tender--and I'm not ten years +old." + +"Solomon Owl says he doesn't care to bother with any but the very +youngest Turkeys." + +"Well," Turkey Proudfoot retorted, "no matter what he says, the joke's +on him. I wasn't coming back here to-morrow night. I don't like sleeping +in the woods and having my rest disturbed by hoots and whistles." + +"I suppose you don't," Simon Screecher admitted. "And I shouldn't care +to try to sleep at the farmyard in the daytime and he waked by gobbles." + +"I wish you _would_ come down to the farmyard," Turkey Proudfoot told +him. "You'd drive old dog Spot half crazy with your whistling." + +Simon Screecher looked thoughtful. + +"No!" he said. "Farmer Green might drive me half crazy with his old +shotgun." He yawned as he spoke. "I don't see what's making me so +sleepy," he remarked. "I must be going home." + +"Don't hurry!" Turkey Proudfoot begged him. "I'm beginning to enjoy your +company--though I can't exactly say why. And I'd like to gabble with you +for an hour or two. I don't see what makes me so wakeful." + +Just then a familiar sound greeted Turkey Proudfoot's ears. It was a +crow. It was the rooster's crow, way down at the farmyard. + +"Why, it's almost dawn!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "I didn't know the +night was so nearly gone. It's no wonder I couldn't sleep. The dawn of +another day always makes one wide awake." + +"It always makes one sleepy, you mean," Simon Screecher corrected him. + +Now, Turkey Proudfoot always grew angry when anybody corrected him in +any way. And he flew into a rage. + +"Go away! Go home!" he spluttered. "I don't enjoy your company." + +Simon Screecher started homewards at once. + +"Farmyard manners!" he muttered. "I declare, I wish Cousin Solomon +hadn't eaten those two mice and those three frogs and those four spiders +and those five grasshoppers to-night. When he's well fed he's always +good-natured. If he had been hungry he'd have been in a terrible temper. +And he'd have fought this Turkey bird until there was nothing left of +him but his tail feathers." + +Turkey Proudfoot never knew what a narrow escape he had. As soon as it +began to grow light he dropped down out of the oak tree and hurried +home, for he didn't want to miss the breakfast that Farmer Green always +gave him. + +Along in the fall, breakfasts always seemed to be bigger. + + + + +XXII + +CRANBERRY SAUCE + + +"Ho, hum!" old Mr. Crow yawned. He had stopped to talk with Turkey +Proudfoot in the cornfield. It was fall; and the shocks of corn stood on +every hand like great fat scarecrows, with fat yellow pumpkins lying at +their feet, as if the scarecrows' heads had fallen off. + +Mr. Crow always yawned a good deal when he chatted with Turkey Proudfoot +and he wasn't always as careful as he might have been about covering up +his yawns. Somehow Mr. Crow found Turkey Proudfoot dull company. Turkey +Proudfoot had never been off the farm. On the other hand, old Mr. Crow +was a great traveller. In his younger days he used to spend every winter +in the South. And though he felt that the long journey had become too +hard for him now, he thought nothing of flying around Blue Mountain and +up and down Pleasant Valley. + +As a result of his wanderings Mr. Crow had learned many things. And as a +result of his staying at home, Turkey Proudfoot had learned little or +nothing. Often Turkey Proudfoot complained to Mr. Crow that he couldn't +even understand what Mr. Crow was talking about. But on this occasion +Mr. Crow mentioned something that made him shudder. + +"Ho, hum!" Mr. Crow yawned again. "My appetite isn't what it used to be. +I believe I need to eat something tart. So I think I'll go over to the +cranberry bog and pick a few cranberries. Why don't you come along with +me?" + +"Ugh!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "Cranberries! I can't stand even the +mention of them." + +"Ha!" Mr. Crow murmured to himself. "I've waked him up at last. I +thought that would fetch him." And to Turkey Proudfoot he said, "Do you +mean to tell me that you don't like cranberries? Why, I've always heard +Turkey and cranberry sauce mentioned together." + +"Ah!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I've no doubt you've heard them spoken of +only too often. But that's no reason why I should be fond of cranberry +sauce. To tell the truth, all my life I've schemed to keep away from +it." + +"Then you don't care for the sharp taste of cranberries," said Mr. Crow. + +"I've never eaten any," Turkey Proudfoot told him. "I'm sure I couldn't +eat any if I wanted to. I believe the sight of them would take my +appetite away." + +Old Mr. Crow shook his head. And he leaned over to pick up a stray +kernel of corn. + +"Don't take that!" Turkey Proudfoot warned him. "I've had my eye on that +kernel. I was going to eat it as soon as you went away." + +Old Mr. Crow bolted the kernel of corn in a twinkling. + +"You forget that you're not in the farmyard," he said boldly. "You can't +treat me as if I were a Hen." And he chuckled--in a croaking sort of +fashion. + +Turkey Proudfoot glared at him. He knew that it was useless to rush at +Mr. Crow. The old gentleman would only rise into the air and sail away +with a loud haw-haw. + +Now, Mr. Crow was a famous tease. He dearly loved to annoy others. And +he gave Turkey Proudfoot a sly glance. + +"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "I have a twinge of rheumatism." + +"Where is your pain?" asked Turkey Proudfoot. + +"In one of my drumsticks," said old Mr. Crow promptly, with a +spluttering cough, to keep from laughing. + +Turkey Proudfoot was furious. + +"Cranberry sauce and drumsticks!" he exclaimed. "You do choose the most +painful things to talk about." + +"I was only trying to be polite," Mr. Crow told him. "You're always +complaining that I don't talk about matters you can understand." + +"I understand these only too well--" Turkey Proudfoot said--"especially +at this season of the year!" + + + + +XXIII + +VACATION TIME + + +It was well along in November. And Turkey Proudfoot was feeling +fidgetty. Whenever Farmer Green or the hired man stepped into the yard, +he started up with a wild look in his eye. + +Turkey Proudfoot was no longer roosting at night in the tree near the +farmhouse. + +With the coming of cold weather he had been glad enough to roost under a +shed beside the barn. + +Ever since the winter before, Turkey Proudfoot had enjoyed sound sleeps +at night. But for weeks now he had often waked up in the middle of the +night and found himself all a-shiver. + +"It's the fault of that horrid old Mr. Crow," Turkey Proudfoot +complained to old dog Spot one day. "He would talk about cranberry sauce +and drumsticks. And of course a person can't sleep well with such things +on his mind." + +Old dog Spot nodded. + +"Isn't it about time for you to go on your yearly vacation?" he +inquired. + +"Don't talk so loud!" Turkey Proudfoot hissed. And he took a quick +glance all around. Then he said to old dog Spot, in almost a whisper, +"To-morrow morning I'll be missing. Now, don't tell anybody!" + +"Certainly not!" Spot promised. "I'm glad you're going away for a little +change. I've thought lately that you were getting more peevish and +quarrelsome than ever." + +"I'm not!" Turkey Proudfoot gobbled. "I may be a bit excitable because +I've lost a good deal of sleep lately. But I'm as good-natured as I ever +was." + +"Oh, very well!" said Spot. "I'll admit all that. I certainly don't want +to quarrel with you just as you're going to leave us for a while.... We +shall miss you while you're gone," he added with a sly smile. "The place +will seem very quiet without your gobble." + +"Yes, I dare say it will be lonesome around here," Turkey Proudfoot +agreed. "And I suppose things will be in a muddle in the farmyard by the +time I get back, with nobody to keep order there." + +"I'll do the best I can while you're away," old dog Spot promised. + +Turkey Proudfoot seemed doubtful that Spot could take his place. + +"Keep your tail still when you bark," he told the old dog. "These +farmyard fowls won't pay much attention to you if they see your tail +a-wagging." + +"I'll remember what you say," Spot answered. + +"Be sure to keep a sharp eye on that Rooster." Turkey Proudfoot went on. +"I don't want him to get the idea into his head that he's running things +in this, farmyard." + +"Very well!" said Spot. "Shall I let him crow a bit, if he wants to?" + +"Let him crow--yes!" Turkey Proudfoot answered. "But if he starts to +gobbling--well, you'd better send for me at once." + +"What about the Peacock?" Spot inquired wickedly. He knew that Turkey +Proudfoot was frightfully jealous of Johnnie Green's newest pet. + +"The Peacock!" Turkey Proudfoot squawked. "Pull out his tail +feathers--every one of them! I've been intending to do that myself. But +I've been so busy that I haven't had the time for it." + +Then they said good-by. + +"You ought to tell me where you're going," Spot suggested. "If the +Rooster should gobble I must know where to find you." + +So Turkey Proudfoot told him. He told him in such a low tone that nobody +else could hear. + + + + +XXIV + +BROTHER TOM + + +It was almost dark in the cornfield on a crisp evening late in November. +It was not Farmer Green's field, but that of a neighbor of his. And it +was far from any house. + +The pumpkins had been gathered weeks before. The cornstalks had long +since been cut and now stood in shocks amidst the stubble. + +On the whole, the scene was bleak and dismal. Not a creature moved +anywhere. Even the meadow, mice had already found the nights too chilly +for their liking. Turkey Proudfoot was there alone, standing like a +statue, as if he were waiting for somebody. + +"I don't see where he can be," Turkey Proudfoot muttered. "I've spent +three days and three nights here already. And he has never been late +before in all the years that I've been coming here for my vacation." + +At last Turkey Proudfoot bestirred himself. With a hop, skip and a jump +he landed on top of the rail fence that surrounded the field and settled +himself for the night. + +He had scarcely closed his eyes when a faint "_Gobble, gobble, gobble_" +from across the cornfield drove all idea of sleep out of his head. He +started up, stretched his long neck as high as he could, and burst forth +with a deafening "_Gobble, gobble, gobble!_" Then he paused and +listened. + +The answer soon reached him. It was nearer this time. And after Turkey +Proudfoot had repeated his interesting remark about a dozen times a huge +old turkey cock came running up and alighted, panting, upon the +fence-rail where Turkey Proudfoot was roosting. + +"You're late," Turkey Proudfoot greeted him. "I'd begun to fear that you +had met with an accident. What kept you?" + +"They shut me up in a pen," the newcomer told him. He was still somewhat +out of breath, partly because of rage at having been imprisoned, partly +because he had been hurrying. "They shut me up two days ago," he +explained. + +"Ah!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You ought to have left home three +days ago. Did you forget our yearly meeting?" + +"No!" said the other. "But I must have miscounted the days." + +"That's very dangerous at this time of year," Turkey Proudfoot replied. +"It's a wonder that you escaped from the pen. How did you manage to slip +out!" + +"Somebody left the door ajar," said the strange turkey. + +"Ah! I've always claimed that our family was lucky!" Turkey Proudfoot +cried. And he gave his companion a slap on the back with his wing. + +Now, that was a jolly thing to do--and not at all like Turkey Proudfoot. +But he was glad to see the newcomer. They were brothers. They had been +separated when quite young; and they had lived on neighboring farms all +their lives. + +For a time they talked together pleasantly enough. Of course Turkey +Proudfoot couldn't help boasting about the way he ruled the roost when +he was at home. But his brother Tom was just as great a boaster. And +after a time each began to think the other's stories somewhat tiresome. +So they began to yawn. And at last they fell asleep. + +A crescent moon peeped down at them from a clear, cold sky that crackled +with stars. A chilling breeze swept down the valley. And sometime during +the night Turkey Proudfoot woke up and found himself a-shiver. He sidled +along the rail and huddled against his brother Tom. + +Brother Tom stirred and stretched himself. + +"This night's a nipper, isn't it?" he remarked. "I can't help wishing my +legs were like Mr. Grouse's." + +"Huh!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You'd look queer--as fat as you +are--if you had legs as short as his." + +"Ah! But his legs are feathered out. And there's nothing like feathers +to keep the cold off," said Brother Tom. + +"I suppose," said Turkey Proudfoot, "Mr. Grouse's legs wouldn't get as +cold as ours do, even if he hadn't a feather on them." + +"Why not?" asked Brother Tom. + +"Because they're shorter," said Turkey Proudfoot. + +Brother Tom made no reply. He was no longer awake. + +Being on the leeward side of his brother, Turkey Proudfoot began to feel +warmer. + +"I'm glad Tom's a big fellow," he murmured drowsily. "He makes a fine +windbreak." Then he too fell asleep. + +And the next day was Thanksgiving. + +THE END + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot, by +Arthur Scott Bailey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT *** + +***** This file should be named 21844.txt or 21844.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/1/8/4/21844/ + +Produced by Joe Longo and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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