The Tale of Turkey Proudfoot Part 2

VI

THE MIMIC

Young Master Meadow Mouse had often peeped at Turkey Proudfoot from behind a clump of gra.s.s, or a hill of corn. But he had never dared show himself to Turkey Proudfoot. Somehow the old gobbler looked terribly fierce. And he was so big that Master Meadow Mouse didn't like the idea of even saying "Good day!" to him. He had heard Turkey Proudfoot spoken of as a "gobbler." 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. And though Turkey Proudfoot strutted and tried to act very lordly as he headed the procession across the yard, Master Meadow Mouse had noticed how Turkey Proudfoot kept a wary eye on the geese behind him, and stepped not quite so high as he usually did, but further.

"Ho!" Master Meadow Mouse had piped to himself in his thin voice.

"Turkey Proudfoot is not the brave fellow I always thought him. He's afraid of geese!"

From that moment Master Meadow Mouse forgot his fear of Turkey Proudfoot. n.o.body 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 behind Turkey Proudfoot and tried to walk exactly like him.

There were a good many farmyard fowls scratching about the yard at the time, and wis.h.i.+ng 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.

Although Turkey Proudfoot seemed to see none of his neighbors, nevertheless he was watching them carefully out of the corner of his eye, to see whether they were noticing him.

They were. There was no doubt of that.

Not only were they looking at him; they were laughing at him as well.

Turkey Proudfoot's face couldn't grow red with rage. It was red already.

It was always red. Being very angry, he gobbled at the giggling hens, at the rooster, even at old dog Spot, "Why are you laughing at me?"

"We aren't!" they cried. "You've no reason to be angry with us."

"'Tis well," said Turkey Proudfoot with a toplofty toss of his bald head. "Since you're not laughing at me, you needn't laugh at all. I don't like your sn.i.g.g.e.ring."

"We can't help laughing," a few of the more daring ones told him. "It's so funny!"

"What is?"

"He is!"

"Who is?"

"Master Meadow Mouse!"

"Master Meadow Mouse!" repeated Turkey Proudfoot in a bewildered fas.h.i.+on.

He looked in front of him. He looked to the left. He looked to the right. He couldn't see Master Meadow Mouse anywhere.

"Look behind you!" cried Henrietta Hen.

Turkey Proudfoot turned his head.

"I don't see any Master Meadow Mouse," he grumbled.

"How can you, when your tail's spread like that?" Henrietta Hen asked him. "Close up your tail and then you'll see what we're laughing at."

But Turkey Proudfoot declined to do anything of the sort.

"It's just a trick," he squalled. "You're all jealous of me and my beautiful tail. You don't want me to carry my tail this way."

Behind Turkey Proudfoot's tail Master Meadow Mouse did a very naughty thing. He stuck out his tongue. And all the onlookers shrieked with merriment.

VII

HALF WRONG

It was no wonder that Turkey Proudfoot was angry. Everybody in the farmyard was laughing and looking his way--or so it seemed to him.

Since he couldn't see any joke, he decided to leave his silly neighbors and go off into the fields where he could be alone. So he walked slowly away, holding his head high and stepping in his most elegant manner.

To his great disgust peals of laughter followed him. And though he had intended to march off without saying a word, this last outburst so filled him with rage that he couldn't resist spinning about to glare and gobble at his tormentors.

He turned so quickly that he surprised Master Meadow Mouse with one of his tiny feet lifted high in the air. He surprised him so much that Master Meadow Mouse stood stock still and didn't even bring his foot down, but held it off the ground as if it had frozen stiff and couldn't be moved.

At first there was a most joyful look on Master Meadow Mouse's face. But it faded instantly into one of doubt and dismay. To tell the truth, Master Meadow Mouse hadn't expected Turkey Proudfoot to turn around and catch him right in his mimicking act.

"Ah, ha!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. "So it's you that they're laughing at, eh?"

Master Meadow Mouse was so upset that he murmured faintly, "Yes, it's me."

"Well, I don't blame them," said Turkey Proudfoot. "You certainly look very queer. Why are you holding your foot off the ground like that?"

"I was in the midst of taking a step when you turned around and startled me," Master Meadow Mouse explained. "And I don't know whether to set my foot down ahead of me, or to put it behind me."

"Don't be alarmed!" Turkey Proudfoot said. "I never fight folks of your size. You're too little for me to pay much attention to. I must say, however, that you have a very odd way of walking."

By this time Master Meadow Mouse had recovered from his surprise and wasn't afraid in the least. Now he laughed heartily.

"I was walking the way you walk," he cried.

"Oh, no!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "No, indeed! You certainly weren't." He didn't ask Master Meadow Mouse's pardon for contradicting.

"I'd like to know why I wasn't," Master Meadow Mouse replied somewhat hotly. "I was strutting right behind you, all the way across the yard.

That's why everybody was giggling."

"It's no wonder they were poking fun at you," Turkey Proudfoot told him.

"You amused the neighbors because you thought you were strutting, while you really weren't."

Master Meadow Mouse put his foot down on the ground. He was puzzled.