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Updated: May 31, 2025
And then he darted away, to hide in the grass beyond the fence. He felt much ashamed to have made such a mistake. It was very hard to please Turkey Proudfoot. To be sure, he always pleased himself. But nothing anyone else did seemed to suit him. And there was one thing that always made him peevish. That was the gobbling of the younger turkey cocks.
Who knew but that a gobbler would gobble up young Master Meadow Mouse if he had a chance? Unseen by everybody, Master Meadow Mouse had watched the geese drive Turkey Proudfoot across the farmyard and seen him flapping up to roost in a tree out of their reach.
"My place is out here in front of the house where people can see me when they drive by.... Probably," he added, "we shan't see much of each other." So saying, he walked stiffly away and mounted the stone wall, where passing travellers would be sure to notice him and admire his beauty. All this was a terrible blow to Turkey Proudfoot.
"Gadley, on his death-bed, has confessed that Moy and Proudfoot took that money, incited by Tom Vivian." Archie Douglas could not speak, but he turned his face towards Compton again, strode swiftly into the churchyard, and fell on his knees by his mother's grave. When at last he rose, he pointed to the new and as yet unmarked mound, and said, "Your mother's?" "Oh no! Raymond's!
Though he had worn one in the fair village of Aengusmere, it was still to him a "coat with a belt." He thought of Nelly all evening. He heard her there on the same floor with him talking to Miss Proudfoot, who stood at Nelly's door, three hours after she was supposed to be asleep.
"You ought to tell me where you're going," Spot suggested. "If the Rooster should gobble I must know where to find you." So Turkey Proudfoot told him. He told him in such a low tone that nobody else could hear. It was almost dark in the cornfield on a crisp evening late in November. It was not Farmer Green's field, but that of a neighbor of his. And it was far from any house.
I found him crying like a child over it when I came back; I was obliged to strip it of all my best for him, for I could not move him. We went through the whole of the old story, to see if there were any hope; and when he found that Tom Vivian was dead, and George Proudfoot too, without a word about him, he seemed to think it hopeless.
"But if they displease you, I'll speak of the ways in which we are alike. Now, take our tails " "I won't!" Turkey Proudfoot squalled. "I'll take my own tail wherever I go. But I won't take yours." "What's the matter with my tail!" cried Mr. Grouse. "It's too small," Turkey Proudfoot declared. "Now, if you want to see a tail that is a tail " "I don't!" cried Mr. Grouse.
For a moment he couldn't remember having gone to sleep in the woods. "You're right up under Blue Mountain," said Simon Screecher. "It's a dangerous place for a stranger to sleep. There are birds and beasts a-plenty in these woods that would make a meal of you if they caught you here." Turkey Proudfoot yawned. "I'm not worrying," he replied. "Foxes can't climb trees.
I've thought lately that you were getting more peevish and quarrelsome than ever." "I'm not!" Turkey Proudfoot gobbled. "I may be a bit excitable because I've lost a good deal of sleep lately. But I'm as good-natured as I ever was." "Oh, very well!" said Spot. "I'll admit all that.
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