The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1898-11-24


as you'll see, William Henry!"
Her husband smiled and rubbed his |
hands. "Oh, I'm not saying 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
Don'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 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 flut-
ter and cuck 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.
"1'here 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"
"No, it don't, William Henry" re-
turned his wife, vigorously. 'This ones
alive. and he's going to stay Glive!
And she rolled him in flannel cloth
and put him in the oven to dry. Mr.
Dassy shook his head.
"No hope, Melvira no hope" he an
swered. Hell turn up his toes inside
of week. It's bound to come! I've
felt it in my bones all along. Why, il
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. "Thi;
turkey is going to live till Thanksgiv
ing. and then he'll die natural death
for turkeys"
"Oh well, hope so, of course. HI
did pull through the food first-rate
there's no denying that. Almost as
well as Noah did through his food
That's what we'll call him, Melvira-
Noah"
SAL right, William Henry; his name
is Noah"
Mrs. Dassy was right about Noah.
chances for Lying; half-hour in the
oven made him as sprightly as ever
In fact, he wriggled out of the over
himself and went plaintiyely peepine
away out of the open door to the
speckled hen, who was delirious will
JOY at the sight of him.
The storm seemed to mark turn
ing-point in Noah's life. There wa!
no more trouble. The rains either
ceased or he defed 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 sooI
the smaller of the two, and found her
self following behind as he wandered
here and there. Then he began Il
ignore her entirely, and at night tool
to roosting on the ridge-pole Of TIL
barn.
This was too much for the hen; sh
gave him up, and he went his own wa,
in the world. The grasshopper sea
son came on, and he developed wonder
, full skill in catching these insects, t
the great delight of Mr.. Dassy.
: 81 tell you what, Melvira," he on
day remarked, there isn't anothe
turk in Nebraska that can gather i
a hopper like that Noah of ours
You ought to watch him. He sees
hopper sitting on blade of grass an
not thinking about anything, and h
just up and points him like pointe
dog, and creeps closer and closer
( steady, never saying word, his hea
: getting little lower all the time, ii
4 he's just right; then he makes on
4 shoot and puts up his head sort @
a like this, and swallows the hopper,
and Mr.. Dassy twisted his neck abou
S in ludicrous attempt to look Xix
r Noah.
e "Well, We got something else to d
i besides watch a turkey catch hoI
n pers!" answered Mrs. Dassy. Thong
d | hope he'll get a right smart lot c
0 them, because we don't need the hol
r pers, and they do say there's nothin