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"And you ought to see my cousin, Solomon Owl. He's a terrible fellow." Turkey Proudfoot's wishbone seemed to be trying to come up into his month. At least, he had to swallow several times before he could answer. "I'd like to see your cousin," he replied, "but not to-night." He had scarcely finished speaking when a loud call came booming through the woods: "Whooo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, to-whoo-ah!"
It came alone by the afternoon post. His account was this: They were all taking it rather easy in old Proudfoot's absence; and when a sudden summons came to take the old farmer's instructions for his will, Archie, as the junior, was told off to do it.
"Hit's right tetchy business er has been a-tryin' to take Andy Proudfoot," the outlaw continued; "but, Dan, I'd got mighty tired, time you come. An' Euola " Kerry rose abruptly, the memory hot within him of Proudfoot's offer of the night before. The mountaineer got slowly to his feet. "They's somethin' I wanted to show ye, too, ye remember," he said.
That night he roosted in a tree near the farmhouse. And in the morning when he awoke no thought of the peacock entered his head. He indulged in a few early morning gobbles according to his custom when a rasping scream reminded him of his hated rival. The peacock had slept in another tree not far away, even nearer the farmhouse than Turkey Proudfoot's. "Huh!" said Turkey Proudfoot.
Proudfoot lives, and will not show this confession of his, unless it should be absolutely necessary to my character. Nor after old Proudfoot's death, will I take any step without notice to him." "Much more than he ought to expect," said Mrs. Poynsett. "I don't know," said Archie.
I just can't get over it you here by me ain't it curious!... "Then he persisted with the tale of his longing, which she had so carefully interrupted: "The people here are awful kind and good, and you can bank on 'em. But oh " From across the room, Tom's pretended jeers, lighted up with Miss Proudfoot's giggles, as paper lanterns illumine Coney Island.
He was so much bigger than she that he could bowl her over easily. On her own account Henrietta didn't really think it worth while to try to make any trouble for Turkey Proudfoot. But when she led her first brood of chicks into the yard to teach them to find food for themselves, Turkey Proudfoot's lordly ways made her very angry. "Move your family over on the gravel drive!"
And somebody mocked him. Somebody repeated his question after him. It was the same voice that had gobbled. Turkey Proudfoot's rage was terrible to see. "Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!" Turkey Proudfoot stood in the farmyard and craned his neck in every direction. That sound certainly was close at hand. Yet there wasn't a turkey cock anywhere in sight, either on the ground or in the trees.
I don't believe they know themselves what they are going to do next." There was no denying that the rooster at Farmer Green's place had handsome tail feathers. But they were as nothing, compared with Turkey Proudfoot's. Not only were the rooster's fewer in number; but he couldn't spread them, fan-fashion. Mr. Grouse, who lived in the woods, beyond the pasture, could spread his tail.
Although Turkey Proudfoot didn't like to hear others gobble, nevertheless he enjoyed the excuse for a fight that their gobbling gave him. And when he had nothing more important to do he often stood still and listened in the hope of hearing some upstart gobbler testing his voice in a neighboring field. Newly grown cocks had to go a long way off to be safe from Turkey Proudfoot's attacks.
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