Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1898-11-25

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Her husband smiled and rubbed his
hands. "Oh. I'm not saying a word
against juicy young turkeys on plat
tiers bout Thanksgiving time. What
/ object to is their gobbling and strut
ting around and feeling so big"
'Dou't say anything, William
Henry" replied his wife; 1--WE known
you to gobble and strut around and
feel big"
1t was still early in the spring. and
the weather was cold. Perhaps it was
from this cause that the next day one
of the young turkeys died. But the
| careful nursing of Mrs. Dassy. to-
| gether with the good care of their
| foster mother. the little speckled hen,
| brought the other six through to
| warm weather. By this time they were
| able to make excursions about the
nearby prairie.
But their troubles were not over.
| At the first rain the whole flock crowd
ed under a haystack. and they pressed
| forward so hard that one of them
| was smothered to death. A fortnight
later chicken-hawk swooped down
and carried off another, although
| the little hen fought desperately and
| lost half her feathers in the struggle.
| There were but four left now.
| But the worst was yet to come. A
week later there was great rain
| storm. Shortly before its coming Mrs.
| Dassy had seen the turkeys under the
barn, so she supposed them safe; but.
in point of fact, when it began they
| were twenty rods out on the prairie. At
| the first drops the hen began to fIut-
ter and cluck wildly in an attempt to
lead them back, but they refused to
bulge. There on the open prairie they
| weathered it out. and when the rain
| ceased and Mrs. Dassy discovered them
and spattered out through the puddles
she found three of them drowned.
There the fools WERE" she cried,
coming back. carrying the only living
one left" all drowned standing up, with
their mouths open SOS to get the
most of it. There never was such fools
as young turkeys!"
81 always said it. Melvira." replied
Mr.. Dassy, gloomily. They're the big
gest fools in all creation. That ends
our plans for Thanksgiving"
mo. it don't. William Henry" re-
turned his wife. vigorously. This ones
alive, and he's going to stay alive!"
And she rolled him in a flannel cloth
and put him in the oven to dry. Mr.
Daisy shook his head.
mo hope, Melvira, no hope he an
swered. He'll turn up his toes inside
of a week. It's bound to come! I've
felt it in my bones all along. Why. if
that turkey can't die any other way
he'll up and go off and commit sui
cide!"
"Stop your croaking. William
Henry" said Mrs. Dassy. sharply. This
turkey is going to live till Thanksgiv-
ing. and then he'll Gle natural death
for turkeys"
"Oh. we'll, I hope so, of course. He
did pull through the flood firstrate
there's no denying that. Almost as
we'll Noah did through his food
That's what We'll call him, Melvira-
Noah.''
"All right. William Henry; his name
is Noah.''
Mrs. Daisy was right about Noah's
chances for living; a half-hour in the
oven made him as sprightly as ever.
In fact, he wriggled out of the oven
himself and went plaintively peeping
away out of the open door to the
speckled hen. who was delirious with
JOY at the sight of him.
The storm seemed to mark a turn
ing-point in Noah's life. There was
no more trouble. The rains either
ceased or he defied them. The chick
en-hawks never made any more at
tacks. Indeed they would shortly have
had trouble in carrying him off, since
he grew with the most astonishing
rapidity. The speckled hen was soon
the smaller of the two. and found her
- -
here and there. Then he began to
ignore her entirely. and a night took
to roosting on the ri6ge-pole CT the
barn.
This was too much for the hen; she
gave him up, and he went his OWL way
in the world. The grasshopper sea-
son came on, and he developed wonder
full skill in catching these insects, to
the great delight of Mr.. Dassy.
81 tell you what. Melvira," he one
day remarked. there isn't another
turk in Nebraska that can gather in
a hopper like that Noah of ours!
You ought to watch him. he sees a
hopper sitting on blade of grass and
not thinking about anything. and he
just up and points him like a pointer
dog, and creeps closer and closer,
| STEADY, never say ing a WORD. MS mead
getting little lower all the time, till
he's just right: then he makes one
shoot and puts up his head sort of
like this. and swallows the hopper"
and Mr.. Dassy twist ed his neck about
in a ludicrous attempt to look like
| Noah.
well, We got something else to do
besides watch a turkey catch hop
| pers!" answered Mrs. Daisy. Though