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It was you tells the Connetable what folks babbled, and the Connetable tells the Sieur, and the Sieur it kills him dead. So if he rised, he'd not pay you for murdering him no, bidemme! And 'tis a gobbly mouthful this," he added, holding up the bill. The undertaker's lips smacked softly, as though in truth he were waiting for the mouthful.
And then he turned suddenly upon the startled rooster. "Look here!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "It seems to me that you are giving me orders." "Not at all!" the rooster assured him. "No, indeed! You're mistaken." "Don't tell me I'm mistaken!" Turkey Proudfoot bawled in an angry, gobbly voice. "I'm never mistaken."
Christmas! An' a boy! An' she doin' well! No wonder that ol' turkey-gobbler sets up on them rafters blinkin' at me so peaceful! He knows he's done passed a critical time o' life. You've done crossed another bridge safe-t, ol' gobbly, an' you can afford to blink an' to set out in the clair moonlight, 'stid o' roostin' back in the shadders, same ez you been doin'.
It was you tells the Connetable what folks babbled, and the Connetable tells the Sieur, and the Sieur it kills him dead. So if he rised, he'd not pay you for murdering him no, bidemme! And 'tis a gobbly mouthful this," he added, holding up the bill. The undertaker's lips smacked softly, as though in truth he were waiting for the mouthful.
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