The times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1882-1897, 1882-11-24
Tha Turkey.

-. luo lurkoys
Inspired by the. season whose festivi-
ties are SO largely aided by this noble
bird, the Hon. David Atwood thus dis
courses concerning HIM
The turkey is said to have been taken
to England in the early part of the six
teenth century by one William Strick-
land, lieutenant to Sebastian Cabot; but
the bird degenerated there, as it does
everywhere else under domestication,
and so, when the Pilgrim Fathers came
to this country the wild turkey inn
pressed them even more than the ely
ops" which they frequently heard roar
ing at night, though it somehow hap
pened that they never saw one by day.
In Woods "New England Prospect"
published at London, in 1854, it is said
of the turkey that
''He hath the use of his long legs so
ready that he can run as fast as a Dog
gle, and flye as well as goose"
And that
''Such as love Turkie hunting must
follow it in winter after new laine
Snow, when he may follow them by
their tracts"
And it is added that:-
long; the price of good Turkie cooke
is foure shillings; and he is well worth
it, for he may be in weight forty pound;
Hen two shillings."
The differentiation" as the Darwin
lists would say, between the size of the
turkey and his market price has under
gone a sorrowful change within the
last two hundred and fifty years, but he
still holds his rank as the great Ameri-
can fowl. and is worthy to be consid-
cred emphatically the bird of freedom.
He is as untamable as the Indians
themselves, and still retains his fleet
ness of foot, as manya grass-hopper has
found to his cost The turkey is as
cunning as the fox or crow, and the hen
never goes to her nest twice by the
same path. No farmers boy, set to
watch the old bird, to find where she
hides her nest in the field, ever yet sue
ceeded in his undertaking. The hen
watches as well as he, and goes in all
sorts of misleading directions, and then,
when the youth turns his head for
moment, 10! the turkey has disappeared,
and the hunt is up for that day. No
search will develop her whereabouts I'M
til, after she has laid the large speckled
egg, which is much richer than that of
the hen pure and simple, and good
deal better
ITO put in cake or fry with bacon"
the astute, long-legged bird is discov-
cred innocently walking along, with her
head tipping cautiously first to one side
and then the other, perhaps in the di-
rection of the very place she has just
left The small boy takes revenge by
throwing few stones at his deceiver,
and goes home vanquished. Even when
the turkey on her nest makes that low,
monotonous cry which is called "sing-
ing" it does not help to discover her
hiding place, for it is as absolutely i'm
possible to guess from whence the voice
comes as to tell from what quarter one
hears the drumming of partridge.
Both sounds seem to fill the entire air,
and to come from above, below, every
where, and nowhere.
The wild, shy habits of the turkey ap-
pear again when the young ones are
hatched--they have no infantile name
of their own, as goslings, and cygnets,
and ducklings, and chickens have-for
the old one takes her brood, as soon as
they are fairly out of the shell, and, in
stead of leading them into the barnyard
or near the kitchen door to pick up
grains and crumbs, starts off on tramp
in the fields, and, if allowed to have her
own way, will brood them in distant
fence-corner and teach them to roost on
forest trees, and will never once bring
them home until the chilly autumn
winds have killed off the army of wan
dering insects. and so reminded the old
lady-turkey of the blessings civilization
has prepared. Then she makes her
way toward the home of her youth.
with a following of youngsters las wild
as hawks" and takes lodgings on
fences and apple-trees within easy
reach of the wheat stack and corn-crib.
OF course this turkeyish inclination to
wander is constantly interfered with by
the farmer, and so the turkey is COM
PEELED to lead q quasi-domestic life, in
spite of the rowing instinct; but the
turkey has nevertheless perpetual in
clination to lapse into barbarism and
regain the liberty of the woods.
The turkey is a bird of aristocratic
disposition, and does no servile work,
and never tries to be useful. The male
struts and gobbles for his own pleasure,
and occasionally he INDUCES in gentle
manly wrestling-match by locking bills
with an antagonist and hanging on till
the question of physical endurance is
settled; but he does not crow in the
morning for the benefit of people who
have no clocks, or for the purpose of
waking up sleepy maid servants. The
female turkey does not like the plebeian
hen, scratch for living, or dig for
worms that are underground. She is
sporting bird that takes her game on
the wing or as it runs. She uses her
legs for purposes of locomotion, and
works with her head instead of her
claws.
The responsibility of the turkey was
clearly recognized by DR.. Franklin, who,
in writing from Paris just after the
close of the Revolutionary War, in ref
erence to some medals that had been
designed for the use of the Society of
Cincinnati, uses this language
.Others object TO the bald eagle as
looking too much like the turkey For