TURKEYS 101 



pingly from her nest under a pile of brush, where 

 she persistently sat on a couple of bricks. In due 

 time the eggs under the hens hatched and the 

 bricks under the turkey refused to hatch, but the 

 enthusiasm of the old turkey-hen continued un- 

 abated. She seemed determined to hatch out terra 

 cotta images, drain-tile, or something. 



The little turks or poults were delightful little 

 wild things, beautifully mottled, and on them I 

 lavished the affection of a warm and ardent na- 

 ture. On one of them, as an experiment, I lavished 

 something even more ardent, for under the ad- 

 vice of a Granger friend I introduced a pepper- 

 corn into the epiglottis of an infant turk and 

 watched the effect. It was instantaneous. The 

 poor bird piped a shrill protest, turned flip-flaps, 

 hand-springs, and cart-wheels, opened its beak, 

 clawed at it with frenzied feet, rolled, ran, fell, 

 and finally collapsed into a piteous little ball of 

 down and died. 



This experiment, at least, was not a success, 

 except as an exterminator, and I had but fifteen 

 poults instead of the original sixteen. I then put 

 them in a well-sheltered place and fed them ac- 

 cording to the best standards. 



For a while all went well. They grew and 

 throve, and I became very complacent over the 

 matter. Too much so, I am afraid, for on my 

 return from the office one day I found three of 



