Arthur Scott Bailey

“ You might think that Turkey Proudfoot would have taken his cousin's remarks to heart. But he didn't. He was so pleased with his own tail that to him it was the biggest thing in the world. Indeed, when he spread his tail and looked at it he could see nothing else.
"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. ”

“ And somehow he always felt as if his feathers had been a bit ruffled whenever he saw the six geese set out for the duck pond. Although their taking a swim was no affair of his, still it made him angry.
"Look at those geese!" he would gobble angrily to anybody that happened to be near him. "They're going to take another cold, wet bath. They're old enough to know better. I often wonder why Farmer Green wants such a stupid crew on his farm. The Silly Six, I call 'em!"
When Turkey Proudfoot talked in that fashion there were some that didn't agree with him. ”

“ When he heard that story Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed, "Nonsense! A Fox's tail is a brush. But a Turkey's wing is a wing. Old dog Spot doesn't know what he's talking about. No doubt Mrs. Green has a Fox's brush hanging up beside her kitchen range."
Still, most of the farmyard folks insisted that the missing gobbler had met with an accident. Anyhow, the question as to what had become of him didn't trouble Turkey Proudfoot. The fellow was gone. And there wasn't another young gobbler on the farm that was likely to have a tail out of the ordinary. So Turkey Proudfoot was content. ”

“ 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.
The pumpkins had been gathered weeks before. The cornstalks had long since been cut and now stood in shocks amidst the stubble.
On the whole, the scene was bleak and dismal. Not a creature moved anywhere. Even the meadow, mice had already found the nights too chilly for their liking. Turkey Proudfoot was there alone, standingp. 116 like a statue, as if he were waiting for somebody. ”

“ But it can't be much good as a weapon. It ought to be sharp and hooked to be of any use in a fight."
With every word that Simon Screecher said, Turkey Proudfoot was growing angrier.
"There's nothing wrong with my bill," he clamored. "I've had plenty of fights in the farmyard. The fowls are all afraid of me at home."
Simon Screecher gave a most disagreeable laugh.
"I wasn't thinking of farmyard fights," he sniffed. "If Fatty Coon or Grumpyp. 97 Weasel or my cousin Solomon Owl grabbed you, you'd find that a fight in the woods is a very different matter from a mere barnyard squabble." ”

“ Turkey Proudfoot stared at the windows and the doors and saw no one except Miss Kitty Cat, dozing on a window sill. Then something moved beneath the piazza ceiling. It was a cage, which swayed as a green figure clung to the wires on one side of it.
"I'm a handsome bird," a voice informed Turkey Proudfoot. ”

“ Simon Screecher started homewards at once.
"Farmyard manners!" he muttered. "I declare, I wish Cousin Solomon hadn't eaten those two mice and those three frogs and those four spiders and those fivep. 104 grasshoppers to-night. When he's well fed he's always good-natured. If he had been hungry he'd have been in a terrible temper. And he'd have fought this Turkey bird until there was nothing left of him but his tail feathers."
Turkey Proudfoot never knew what a narrow escape he had. ”

“ The peacock had slept in another tree not far away, even nearer the farmhouse than Turkey Proudfoot's.
"Huh!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "Farmer Green won't care for that racket every morning just outside his window. And neither will Rusty Wren. He always goes to the trouble of waking Farmer Green with his singing. This new pet of Johnnie's has taken it upon himself to do Rusty's work." ”

“ Men—and boys, too—come into the woods with guns to hunt us. And we make game of them by rising swiftly with a loud whir and flying off before they have time to shoot us."
Turkey Proudfoot gaped at Mr. Grouse.
"Don't they ever hit you?" he faltered.
"They've never shot me," said Mr. Grouse. "Once a hunter knocked out one p. 81of my tail feathers. But that was only an accident."
Turkey Proudfoot Has a Chat with Mr. Grouse (Page 80)
"I shouldn't care to be a game bird," Turkey Proudfoot remarked. "I'm sure it's much safer living at the farmyard." ”

“ They may squawk and cross the road; they may cross the road and not squawk; they may squawk and not cross the road; they may not cross the road and not squawk. I don't believe they know themselves what they are going to do next."
p. 56
XII MR. CROW'S NEWS
There was no denying that the rooster at Farmer Green's place had handsome tail feathers. But they were as nothing, compared with Turkey Proudfoot's. Not only were the rooster's fewer in number; but he couldn't spread them, fan-fashion.
Mr. Grouse, who lived in the woods, beyond the pasture, could spread his tail. ”

“ Just then a familiar sound greeted Turkey Proudfoot's ears. It was a crow.p. 103 It was the rooster's crow, way down at the farmyard.
"Why, it's almost dawn!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "I didn't know the night was so nearly gone. It's no wonder I couldn't sleep. The dawn of another day always makes one wide awake."
"It always makes one sleepy, you mean," Simon Screecher corrected him.
Now, Turkey Proudfoot always grew angry when anybody corrected him in any way. ”

“ Turkey Proudfoot took a little run and rose into the air, to crash against the cage and then fall flapping upon the piazza floor.
The green person shrieked. And the hired man, with an axe in his hand, peered out of the woodshed door.
"Here, you old gobbler! You leave our Polly alone!" he called. And he ran out and gave Turkey Proudfoot a sharp rap with the axe helve.
Turkey Proudfoot ran off and hid behind the barn and sulked.
p. 44
"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 ”

“ He's afraid of geese!"
From that moment Master Meadow Mouse forgot his fear of Turkey Proudfoot. Nobody stands in awe of a coward. So the very next time that Master Meadow Mouse saw Turkey Proudfoot strutting in the yard he crept up behindp. 27 Turkey Proudfoot and tried to walk exactly like him.
There were a good many farmyard fowls scratching about the yard at the time, and wishing to appear at his best, Turkey Proudfoot spread his tail, puffed out his chest, and strolled all around as if he—and and not Farmer Green—owned the place. ”

“ Turkey Proudfoot yawned.
"I'm not worrying," he replied. "Foxes can't climb trees. And I'm asp. 94 big as any bird in the neighborhood."
"You're as big—yes! And bigger than most!" Simon Screecher admitted. "But it isn't bigness alone that counts in the woods," he insisted. ”

“ Turkey Proudfoot called. "Keep away from the duck-pond! The weather's getting colder every day; and it makes me shiver to see you start off for a swim."
Turkey Proudfoot had supposed the six geese would be very meek and most eager to obey his commands. ”

“ Henrietta Hen obeyed him without a word. And she had no sooner shooed her youngsters into the chicken house than Turkey Proudfoot gave a loud laugh—a somewhat forced, yet loud laugh.
"You're just the sort of bird I like," he told the rooster. "I've been testing you to see if you were brave. I'm delighted to find that you are. And I suggest that you and I stand by each other and run things in this yard to suit ourselves. When folks don't do as I tell them to, you and I will attend to them."
"Agreed!" cried the rooster. He wasp. 55 greatly flattered. "We'll make the neighbors step lively." ”

“ Missing him by the breadth of a wing, Benjamin Bat hung head downward from a near-by limb and stared at the sleeping form. "Hello!" he squeaked. "Here's a newcomer in these woods. I should think he'd cling to that limb upside down. ”

“ 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. But for weeks now he had oftenp. 111 waked up in the middle of the night and found himself all a-shiver.
"It's the fault of that horrid old Mr. Crow," Turkey Proudfoot complained to old dog Spot one day. "He would talk about cranberry sauce and drumsticks. And of course a person can't sleep well with such things on his mind." ”

“ He'd find it a much safer way than sitting on top of the limb." Benjamin Bat was on the point of rousing Turkey Proudfoot and advising him to change his position when a quavering whistle sent Benjamin hurrying away. He knew the voice of Simon Screecher, Solomon Owl's small cousin. ”