100 FARMING IT 



lenge that an adult male turkey always takes 

 up. With outstretched neck and hideous whine 

 he charged, and with shrill shrieks the lady fled 

 for the friendly shelter of the open portal. I have 

 ridden on the "Flying Yankee," I have flashed 

 down the toboggan slide, have shot or " shooted" 

 the chutes, have twice been run away with when 

 astride a bronco, have seen the fastest sprinter 

 breast the tape in an even ten, have seen the two- 

 minute pacer coming down the stretch abreast the 

 thoroughbred runners, but never have I seen 

 such a burst of speed as my wife put on that day. 

 She fairly whizzed across the yard and disap- 

 peared into the house like a flash of jagged 

 lightning, and the bang with which she slammed 

 the door, echoed and reechoed and drowned my 

 coarse and unfeeling laughter and the delighted 

 giggle of my irreverent daughter, who from a 

 convenient window had viewed the proceedings 

 with great enjoyment. Truly this turkey busi- 

 ness was not a bad investment after all. 



As spring approached, my turkey began to lay 

 large pock-marked eggs with exceedingly rough 

 shells, which I carefully secured and concealed 

 from the prying eyes of the cook. 



As soon as I had a sufficient number, I set 

 them under two large fluffy hens and sternly re- 

 pressed the maternal instinct of the turkey-hen, 

 daily removing her forcibly, protestingly, flap- 



