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 Cover image for The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot 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 The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot The Geese Hissed at Turkey Proudfoot. Frontispiece—(Page 16) S L U M B E R - T O W N T A L E S (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 G R O S S E T & D U N L A P 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 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 T H E TA L E O F T UR K E Y P R O UD F O O T 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. p. 1 p. 2 p. 3 p. 4 p. 5 I I 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." p. 6 p. 7 p. 8 p. 9 p. 10 I I I 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. p. 11 p. 12 p. 13 p. 14 p. 15 I V 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. p. 16 p. 17 p. 18 p. 19 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." p. 20 p. 21 p. 22 p. 23 p. 24 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. p. 25 p. 26 p. 27 p. 28 p. 29 VI I 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. p. 30 p. 31 p. 32 p. 33 p. 34 VI I I 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. p. 35 p. 36 p. 37 p. 38 I X 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." Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot's Gobble 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." p. 39 p. 40 p. 41 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." p. 42 p. 43 p. 44 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!" p. 45 p. 46 p. 47 p. 48 p. 49