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Updated: May 31, 2025
Yet, as they went up-stairs Miss Proudfoot said to Nelly: "Mr. Wrenn is quiet, but I do think in some ways he's one of the nicest men I've seen in the house for years. And he is so earnest. And I think he'll make a good pinochle player, besides Five Hundred." "Yes," said Nelly. "I think he was a little shy at first.... I was always shy.... But he likes us, and I like folks that like folks."
To tell the truth, Master Meadow Mouse hadn't expected Turkey Proudfoot to turn around and catch him right in his mimicking act. "Ah, ha!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "So it's you that they're laughing at, eh?" Master Meadow Mouse was so upset that he murmured faintly, "Yes, it's me." "Well, I don't blame them," said Turkey Proudfoot. "You certainly look very queer.
"Just say, 'a gentleman. You see, it's to be a surprise.... You know everybody likes surprises," he added, as he grinned at the Muley Cow in the most innocent way. She remembered that she had liked surprises herself when she was younger. So she agreed to give Turkey Proudfoot the message exactly as Tommy Fox had told it to her. And she did.
"You are jealous," he told Mr. Grouse. "And I can't blame you. It's only natural that you should look at my tail with envy. Everybody does down at the farmyard." Turkey Proudfoot must have forgotten all about the peacock, when he spoke. Anyhow, he gazed around at his tail with great admiration. All at once there was a terrible, loud whirring sound. Turkey Proudfoot started up in alarm.
"I don't see why she wanted to bring her chicks out here where Turkey Proudfoot would see them. She's landed me in a scrape. There won't be much left of me when that old gobbler gets through with me." Nevertheless the rooster put on a bold front. Drawing himself up to look his tallest, he glared at Turkey Proudfoot and said shrilly, "What do you mean by annoying this lady?"
Turkey Proudfoot ran off and hid behind the barn and sulked. "There's a bird around here," he muttered, "that mocks Miss Kitty Cat; and they call him a Cat Bird. Now, here's a bird that mocks me; so I should think they'd call him a Turkey Bird. But they don't. I heard the hired man call him Pretty Polly. "Pretty Polly indeed!" Turkey Proudfoot sniffed.
It was fall; and the shocks of corn stood on every hand like great fat scarecrows, with fat yellow pumpkins lying at their feet, as if the scarecrows' heads had fallen off. Mr. Crow always yawned a good deal when he chatted with Turkey Proudfoot and he wasn't always as careful as he might have been about covering up his yawns. Somehow Mr. Crow found Turkey Proudfoot dull company.
Whenever Farmer Green or the hired man stepped into the yard, he started up with a wild look in his eye. Turkey Proudfoot was no longer roosting at night in the tree near the farmhouse. With the coming of cold weather he had been glad enough to roost under a shed beside the barn. Ever since the winter before, Turkey Proudfoot had enjoyed sound sleeps at night.
He was still somewhat out of breath, partly because of rage at having been imprisoned, partly because he had been hurrying. "They shut me up two days ago," he explained. "Ah!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You ought to have left home three days ago. Did you forget our yearly meeting?" "No!" said the other. "But I must have miscounted the days."
"He's a wonderful creature." "I don't think much of him," said the rooster. He had a surly look, as if something perhaps a pebble had stuck in his crop. "I can't quite swallow this new pet," the rooster told Turkey Proudfoot. "Ah! You haven't seen him with his tail spread!" Henrietta Hen exclaimed. "His tail is simply gorgeous." His tail! That was exactly what old Mr. Crow had mentioned.
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