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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.