The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1899-11-26
THE ROYAL BIRD. ARRIVES
Dressed for Thanksgiving's Fes-
tai Board.
HE LADY BEAUTIFUL
Appears Before the Red-Nosed Poultry
Boy, While the Dyspeptic Man
Gives Voice to Rank and
Sour Jest.

She was dainty. charming, petite. Black
eyes, brown wavy hair that loved the
breeze, a tender mouth where played a
ripping smile; brunette. Over her shoul-
ders a sealskin; high collar that Struggled
round two pearl pink ears and prisoned a
roguishly firm little chin. From under the
edge of her black and broadcloth gown
cleaned the toe of a patent leather boot;
such a shapely boot. Gloves black, of
course; and such slender, graceful hands.
Mon Dieu. was she not adorable! Yes.
Sparkled her eyes like Goals of Christ
mas fire: glowed her cheeks as the blush
of the tide she'll when the sunset woes
the sea; cleaned her teeth as the white
cap CLEANS to the sailors breeze. All,
but listen-her voice! You have heard the
soft wind sing to the silver maple mid
the hush of the full-throated birds.
The dyspeptic man stnnding in the
doorway watched her with gloomy eyes.
The poultry boy with the red nose let the
chopping knife slip from cold-blue fin
gers. and his dull eyes widened with sur
prise. Then, as she turned to him with
a question on her lovely lips, he dropped
his eyes till they rested on the tip of her
boot, and waited with breath held in.
Have you turkeys to sell?''
The red-nosed, blue-fingered poultry boy
thought of the naples and the wind. The
dyspeptic man in the doorway sneered.
The dyspeptic mans heart was hard with
the hardness of much lost peace. Beauty
he loved not, nor the music Of a womans
voice. Humor he had none, only the sour
ness of soul.
Have you turkeys to sel'" Knocked
the dyspeptic man to himself, and sollo-
quized:
"No. fair creature. methinks we have
turkeys to give away
AT II cents the pound" murmured the
poultry boy
"There be many fine turkeys here,
sweet lady; also chickens, ducks and
geese: methinks thou hast strayed from
the flock, for thou art dressed and SO
are they"
"All ready to be stuffed, ma am" said
the poultry boy.
'Thou stupid asst cursed the dyspeptic
man, in his beard, and turned his back Oh
the world.
The lie was in his throat when the
dyspeptic man said I'VE have turkeys to
give away" And the truth was in his
beard when he cursed the boy for an ass.
But it was true talk about the multitude
of fine fowl. The turkeys and the ducks.
the chickens and the geese, lying in heaps
of dead on the stalls in in barrels and
boxes before that Commercial avenue
morgue. 1t was pitiful sight; at least,
SO Bettina would have thought, and
leaned upon memory and wept.
But in the ears of the Lady Beautiful
there choed not the sweet chimes of
"Gobble! Gobble! Gobblev' Yet her heart
was not hard like the heart of the dys-
peptic man; merely she did not UNDER
stand. The Lady Beautiful scented the
perfume of Thanksgiving. that was all.
"Now," she said sweetly, II am quite
sure this one Is tender" and she pressed
with the tip Of one slender finger the
breast of a royal bird.
The red-nosed poultry boy beamed. In
the homely speech of his craft here was
"a customer for his life"
Yes M" he answered. cheerly, that
'un's beauty. sure. He'll tip tn scales
bout 10 pounds-they run from eight
pound clean up to 20, only the biggest Is
usually Is. Oh yes'm; thissee one'll be
plenty for six people, an to spare-alons
with the stuffin' an tn sauce. Yes,
mum, we sell a heap sight O. turkeys
round Thanksgivin'-there was 10000
pound sold an ct in Anaconda last year.
long with tn geese an tn chickens an
tn ducks. This year there won't be
more'n bout 1900. we reckon, cause why
I can't jest say; but there won't What,
lam? Oh, we get. EN- from Kansas an
Nebraska-come dressed an on ice, by ex-
press Last year we sold turkeys at IS
cents per pound; this year we're sellin'
at II. Geese is 49, ducks is 16 an chickens
is Is tn pound. Fer every other bird we
sell, We sell five turkeys. round Thanks
givin'. Curious, but folks don't want
nothin much cept turkeys, come Thanks
givin' time"
Just then an impatient customer pinch
ed the poultry boys arm and demanded
the weight of a goose. The poultry boy
scowled and said, very roughly, alas:
"Jest a minnit'
The Lady Beautiful smiled. "Ill take
this big ONE she said; will you please
have it sent to the house?"