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Peter Rabbit never will forget the first time he saw Big Tom Gobbler. It was very early one spring morning, when Peter was not yet old enough to have made the acquaintance of all the people who live in the Green Forest, and when it seemed as if the chief thing in life with him was to satisfy his curiosity about the ways of the Great World.

He was very fond of watching his neighbors to find out what they were about, and it was this fondness of minding the business of other people instead of his own that was making him sneaky and stealthy, for of course he didn't want any one to know what he was doing. "It happened that as he stole into Turkey Wood, Mrs. Gobbler left her nest to get a bite to eat. Mr.

There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having his own way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, and sometimes he became exceedingly cross.

He leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward, stretching his neck and clearing his throat, a position in which he bore a ludicrous resemblance to a turkey gobbler. "Most through the Legislature?" inquired the judge. "'Bout as common," said Jethro.

In fact, the old fellow was beginning to see that his recognition of his gobbler had been premature. A patch of blue uniform was visible through the brush. The rebel stopped, and drew up his gun. As Hamlet killed Polonius for a rat, so would he kill a Yankee for a turkey. Click! the piece was cocked and aimed.

Before the old hunter could answer there was a stir on the tree. The gobbler had heard them and he gave the alarm. Up and out went the turkeys as fast as they could fly. Bang! bang! went the shotguns, and several more shots followed. Jed Sanborn had also taken aim. There was a great fluttering, and down dropped two turkeys like lead.

The story sounded humble enough, but as soon as the captain had set little Hans on his feet and bent curiously over the forerunners of the dear friend, which had been placed on the little bench by the door, the three boys dashed down the stairs, and the shrill voice of the landlord's son shrieked from the lowest step one "Turkey gobbler" and "Pope's slave" after another.

Next morning they were astir at an early hour; and, after giving the remains of the gobbler a hurried "devilling," they ate them, and rode off on the back trail. They did not put the dog upon it to guide them as the scent was now cold, and they feared that Marengo, keen as he was, might get astray upon it. They trusted to find it from their own tracks, and the "blazes" they had made.

I got to fingering my rifle trigger impatiently and wishing that a wild Thanksgiving gobbler might blunder into view. Squirrels made ceaseless chatter all around my stand. Large hawks shrilled by me within tempting range, whistling like spent bullets. A groundhog sat up on a log and whistled, too, after a manner of his own. He was so near that I could see his nose wiggle.

"'Yes, says Hemenway, bloated up like a gobbler an' lookin' at Jess where she stan's with her face red an' still a-puffin' for breath; 'an' she thinks she could l'arn right here if she only had a pianner. "'She'd oughter have one, says Mr. Sneath. 'I wish he says, an' then he breaks off like a busted log-chain. 'But we couldn't git it down here. "What's that? asts Hemenway.