THE QUICK-TEMPERED TURKEY GOBBLER
There was only one Gobbler on the farm, and he was so used to having hisown way that he never tried to make the best of it when he couldn't, andsometimes he became exceedingly cross. He was bigger than the Cocks, theHens, the Geese, and the Ducks, so when they were in his way and hegobbled a gruff "Move along," they murmured "Oh, certainly," andscampered away as fast as their legs would carry them. The Peacock waslarger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could siton a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he didnot care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in eachother's way.
There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who werefond of walking. They had never been known to answer back when theGobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. Thiswas polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever ofthe way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made herwattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stoodit--no, indeed!
When the Black Spanish Cock heard her say so, he shook his feathers andsmiled a queer little smile, and said, "I certainly know that she wouldnot." The other fowls looked at each other, and the Shanghai Cock winkedhis round little eyes at the Dorking Hen, and she had to oil a featheron the under side of her wing just then, so, of course, nobody saw herlaugh--if she did laugh.
The Black Spanish fowls were kind-hearted and honest, and had finemanners, but they would not stand it to be spoken to hastily by any onewho was not very much bigger than they, and it was said that the Cockhad once--only once--but then, perhaps it would be just as well not totell what the other fowls had heard about their family quarrel, for,after all, it did not come very straight, the Pigs having told theGeese, and the Geese telling the Ducks, and the Ducks just mentioning itto the Peacock, and the Peacock having spoken of it to the Dorking Hen.
It was now late in the fall, and all the Turkeys went walking togetheragain. One would think that, after being separated from the rest allsummer and part of the spring, the Gobbler would have been very politewhen he joined them, but no; he was more quick-tempered than ever. Hewas not fond of young Turkeys, and their constant chattering annoyedhim. "Can't you find some way to keep those children quiet?" he wouldsay, and made such a fuss that the Hen Turkeys called them aside andtried to amuse them for a while.
Hen Turkeys are most loving mothers, and in the early spring first oneand then another had stolen away to lay and hatch her eggs. If a HenTurkey wanted a chance to lay an egg at this season, she watched theGobbler and left the flock when his back was turned. As she came nearher nest, she would stop and look around to make sure he did not seewhere it was. She knew that the Gobbler did not like to have her raiseyoung Turkeys, and that if he could find the nest, he would break everyegg in it. After she had laid her egg, she would wander back in acareless way, quite as though she had only been to the watering-troughfor a drink.
Once the Hen Turkeys had talked about this when the Gobbler could nothear. "It doesn't seem right not to tell him," the youngest had said.
"Well, my dear," said another, "it is the only way we can do, if we wantto save our eggs and raise our children. Gobblers always act in thatway."
"Are you sure?" said the young Hen Turkey.
"Sure!" was the answer. "You wouldn't be here to-day if your motherhadn't done as we do."
So the youngest Hen Turkey had changed her mind and hidden her eggs likethe rest, for, in spite of aching legs and all that is hard in hatchingeggs, Hen Turkeys always want to raise broods in the springtime. Whenone of them had laid as many eggs as she wanted to hatch, she begansitting on them, and would not walk with the flock at all. One by onethe Hen Turkeys had done this until the Gobbler was left quite alone. Hedid not like it at all, and wanted more than ever to find and break theeggs. When the Turkey Chicks were hatched, their mothers kept them outof the Gobbler's way, because, you know, he did not like small childrenand it was better that they should not meet.
The Hen Turkeys were very sorry for him, and often wished that he mightwatch with them the growth of their piping darlings, to see the tinyfeathers push their way through the down and broaden and lengthen untilthere was no down to be seen--only feathers. It was too bad; yet thatwas the way in all Turkey families, and the Gobblers couldn't helpdisliking the children any more than the Hen Turkeys could help wantingto sit in the springtime.
By another year the Gobbler would love the young Turkeys dearly. Evennow he did not try to strike them, as he might have done a while before.They were afraid of him, yet down in their hearts the brothers allthought that when they were grown up they wanted to be just like himand strut around with their wings trailing, their tails spread, theirnecks drawn back, and their feathers ruffled. Then, they thought, whenother people came near them, they would puff and gobble and cry, "Getout of my way!" They tried it once in a while to see how it would seem,but they were still slender and their voices were not yet deep enough.The sisters laughed at them when they did this, and that made them feelvery uncomfortable. The long, limp red wattles that grew out betweentheir eyes became redder and redder as they swung to and fro under theirshort, thick bills.
"Just wait," said one young fellow to another. "Just you wait until I amreally grown up and strut before your sister next spring. I don't thinkshe will laugh at me then." And he comforted himself by eating fullytwice as much grain as he should have done.
The farmer's little girl came into the farmyard, and all the fowlsstopped eating to look at her. She was so young that she had neverbefore been out there alone. Her father had brought her in his arms, andshe had laughed with delight and clapped her little hands when thefarmyard people passed by her. Now she had slipped out of the house andstood in the sunshine smiling at every one. She came without a cap, andthe wind blew her soft yellow curls around her rosy face. It flutteredher red dress, too, and the Gobbler saw it and became exceedingly angry.
"Red-red-red!" he cried. "Why in the world did she wear red? I hate it!"He stalked toward her in his most disagreeable way, and you could tellby the stiff brushing of his wing-tips on the ground that he was veryangry. "Get away from here!" he cried. "This is my home and little girlscan't wear red dresses when they visit me. Pffff! Get away!"
The little girl turned to run as the big Gobbler came puffing towardher. In her fright she stumbled and fell, and he hurried forward tostrike her. The Black Spanish Cock began to ruffle his neck feathers andstretch his head forward. He did not mean to have their visitor treatedso. He ran between the Gobbler's feet and they tumbled over together.The little girl picked herself up and hurried into the house.
If the Gobbler was angry before, he was much more so after his fall."What do you mean, sir," he said, "by tripping me?"
"And what do you mean," said the Black Spanish Cock, "by knocking meover?"
"Pffff! You were under my feet."
"Erruuuu! You were over my head."
Now nobody had dared to disagree with the Gobbler in so long that he didnot know what to make of it, and when the Shanghai Cock strolled overto help his friend, the Gobbler was fairly sputtering with rage. "Ah,Gobbler," said the Shanghai, "wonder what has become of the little girl?It was nice of her to come out here, and I wish she had stayed longer."
THE BIG GOBBLER CAME PUFFING TOWARD HER.]
"I told her to get away," was the answer. "She had on a red dress. Ichased her. I always have chased anybody who wore red, and I alwaysshall. It's my way."
"Is it your way, too, to be cross whenever you feel like it?"
"Of course. I wouldn't be cross when I didn't feel like it," answeredthe Gobbler.
"Some of us are not cross when we do feel like it," said the DorkingCock. "I am always happier for keeping my temper when I can."
"Pffff!" said the Gobbler. "That is not my way. I say right out what Ithink, and then I am all right again and forget all about it."
"Humph!" said the Bantam Hen. "I wonder if the other people forget assoon?
It would do him more good to remember it and feel sorry. He needsa lesson." Then she stalked up to him, looking as brave as you please,although she was really quite frightened. "I never noticed it before,"she cackled, "but the tuft of hairy feathers on your breast isdreadfully ragged. And what very ugly looking feet you have! If I weregoing to have any webs between my toes I should want good big ones likethose of the Ducks and Geese, not snippy little halfway webs like yours.I hope you don't mind my speaking of it. I always say what I think. It'sjust my way, and I never remember it afterward." She gave a gracefulflutter and a queer little squawk, and was off before the Gobbler gotover his surprise.
Fowls do enjoy a joke, and now the Dorking Cock took his turn. "I'vealways wanted to know how you spread your tail in that fashion. It's agood time to see." He walked up beside the Gobbler and pecked and pulleduntil three feathers lay on the ground. "Ah," said the Dorking Cock, "Isee I loosened some of your tail feathers. I hope you don't mind. It isjust my way, when I want to know about anything, to find out as soon asI can."
And so one fowl after another teased and troubled the Gobbler, andexplained afterward that "it was just their way." Then they laughed athim and ran off.
It would be nice if one could say that the Gobbler never again lost histemper, but he did, a great many times, for he should have begun tomaster it when he was a Chick. But one can tell truly that he neveragain excused his crossness by saying that "it was only his way." Theyoungest Duckling in the poultry-yard had always known that this was noexcuse at all, and that if people have disagreeable habits which makeothers unhappy, it is something of which they should be much ashamed.