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Updated: May 26, 2025
But law, ef it hed been Peter Birt stid of me, that thar wild tur-r-key would hev laid on this hyar ledge plumb till the Jedgmint Day!" He walked deftly along the ledge, picked up the bird, and tied it to one of the vines with a string which he took from his pocket, intending to draw it up when he should be once more on the top of the crag.
"George Birt," promptly replied the little boy. "What air ye doin' down thar? I thought it war Satan a-callin' of me. I never seen nobody." "I kem down hyar on vines arter a tur-r-key I shot. The vines bruk, an' I hev got no way ter git up agin. I want ye ter go ter yer mother's house, an' tell yer brother Pete ter bring a rope hyar fur me ter climb up by."
"How'd she make out ter fotch the little tur-r-keys up hyar, when they war hatched? They'd fall off'n the bluff." "A tur-r-key what hev stole her nest away from the folks air fool enough fur ennything," Nicholas declared. Perhaps he did not really expect to find the missing fowl in such an out-of-the-way place as this, but being an adventurous fellow, the sight of the crag was a temptation.
"Thar, now! Ethan Tynes never gimme that thar wild tur-r-key's whings like he promised." "Whar did ye happen ter see Ethan?" asked Pete, interested in his friend. "Seen him in the woods, an' he promised me the tur-r-key whings." "What fur?" inquired Pete, a little surprised by this uncalled-for generosity.
George Birt had carefully laid himself down on his stomach, only protruding his head beyond the verge of the crag, that he might not fling away his life in his curiosity. "Did ye git it?" he asked, with bated breath. "Git what?" demanded poor Ethan, surprised and impatient. "The tur-r-key what ye hev done been talkin' 'bout," said George Birt. Ethan had lost all interest in the turkey.
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