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"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.
"'Count o' ye not tellin' on Jube, he mought hev been tuk up fur a horse-thief. I dunno what I'd hev done 'thout him," she added, "'long o' raisin' the young tur-r-keys, an' goslin's, an' deedies, an' sech; he hev been a mighty holp ter me. He air more of a son ter me than my own boy."
An' them young fall tur-r-keys air so spindlin' an' delikit they'll be the death o' me yit!" They were so spindling and delicate that they were the death of themselves. She had just buried three, and her heart and her larder were alike an aching void. "Three died ter-day, an' two las' Wednesday!"
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