The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1885-11-26
BAB'S TURKEY.
A Thanksgiving Story.

Barbara! Barbara Frickr' Mrs. Pet
tingill's voice rang out sharp and shrill
| on the summer air. far above the hum
of crickets and grasshoppers in the
grass; and the little pink sunbcnnet
down the road came to sudden stand
| still. Barbara, come back here a
| moment"
'.Yes, Mrs. Pestingill," and the own
er of the sunbonnet quickly retraced
| her steps TO the farm gate, where stood
| the tall, rather gaunt woman with the
| sharp voice.
The young turkeys have all wand
cred off into the woods yonder," she
said,' land a shower is coming up
fast. Would you mind driving 'em up
for me, Bah? I've just got my baking
in the oven. The men folks are all
down in the lower meadow, and the
young brood will surely be killed if
they get wet"
Barbara glanced doubtfully from the
| heavy cloud rising in the west to the
| woman's anxious face, and then, being
a good-natured girl, said:
| II think il will rain in ten minutes,
| Mrs. Pettingill. but I'll do the best l
| can"
That's good child! Be spry and
I'll give you a loaf of fresh bread and
a pail of milk to take home to your
mother"
So, thus encouraged, Barbara set
forth across the plowed field, where
| the wheat and corn were sending up
| tender green shoots, until she reached
! the little tract of woodland back of the
farm.
Still nothing was to be seen of the
| truant turkeys; and the thunder now
began to rumble overhead and flashes
of vivid lightning to play about the
dark clouds, making Barbara tremble
with fear, for she had great dread of
being out in thunderstorm.
''Oh, dear!" she sighed, where can
they be? l am afraid it will rain be-
| fore l get back"
just then a low, mournful peep!
peep! made her look round. Some
! thing was tluttering in the long grass
near an old, umblc-down rail fence,
and going nearer she found it was one
of the little turkeys, that, in attempt
ing to squeeze between the bars, had
stuck fast, and was struggling in vain
to get free.
you poor little dot" she cried,
chow came you here? and where have
your mother and brothers all wandered
top
But the turkey only answered with
its sad little ''peep! peep!" aud help
ing it through the narrow space, Bar
bara popped the wee. downy thing in
to her apron, and stumbled on through
the underbrush, where she felt sure
that the speckled hen and her turkey
children must have hidden themselves.
Dear mer' cried Barbara. in dis
may, ''they will never get over such
wetting as this And what will Mrs.
Pettingill say?"
And she was half afraid to meet the
farmers wife, to whom the promising
young had meant new black silk
| dress at Thanksgiving.
And Mrs. Pettingill was angry
enough when Barbara drove the dis
| onsolate-looking brood into the farm
yard, and exclaimed in temper:
1T is all your fault, Bah, for not
having sense enough to look in the old
pasture first" Qor angry people are
apt to be unreasonable). They are
| sure to pine away and die now, so |
| Sudu UOlliti Win Gil L Ou
needn't have troubled yourself to take
care of that one forlorn little thing, for
| one isn't worth raising"
''Then take it home, Bah, and see
what you can do with it, said good
natured Farmer Pettingill, who came
| in in time to hear his wife's words
Never mind Nancy; accidents will
! happen, you know, and if these die we
can set the old brown hen, and have
| plenty more turkeys in 4 month.
To which Mrs Pettingill only tossed
her head, muttering:
Late turkeys never do amount to
| anything, and these would have been
| all right now if had gone after 'em
| myself and not sent careless chit like
| that" with such scathing glance at
Barbara that she was glad to beat a
| hasty retreat without either the prom
ised bread or pail of milk, and she
walked slowly homeward with tears in
her brown eyes and the baby turkey
still rolled up in her apron.
| The Widow Frick. with her son Hans
and daughter Barbara, or Bah, as she
was usually called. lived in a rickety
| little cottage at the foot of Long Hill,
| where everything was shabby enough,
| but clean and neat as new pin; 81
though the poor woman had often a
hard time to provide food and clothing
for her little family, especially since an
attack of malaria in the spring had left
| her very weak and miserable.
"Hallo, Bah! what have you got
there?" called Hans, from the door
step, as his sister entered the gate;
land you look as solemn as old black
Peters horned owl"
| 81 guess you would look solemn,
and cross, too, if you had chased over
| three rough fields, torn your clothes,
| scratched your hands, and been cooped
up in huIIow old tree during terrif-
| ic thunderstorm, and then, after all,
! Gully get scolding for your pains,
retorted Bah, thus giving vent to her
wounded feelings.
Poor Babbie-de-bab! Did you bring
home the scolding in your apronP"
| laughed Hans.
mo, indeedl l was glad enough to
leave it behind me. This Is q poor
| little turkey"
And Bah produced the wee, trcmb-
ling bird.
"Where did you get it?n asked Mrs.
| Frick. appearing in the doorway.
And, sitting down. Barbara related
her mornings adventure at the Pettin-
gill Farm.
But the turkey won't live," said
| Hans, when she had finished. They
are the hardest things IN the world
| to raise"
Il shall try, anyway" said Bah,
gently smoothing the soft, yellow
| down.
And she make the little fellow
coop In one corner of the yard, and fed