108 FARMING IT 



turned the corner of the shed on one wheel, and 

 dashed into the open with a whoop. At the un- 

 expected appearance of so skinny a spectre clad 

 in pale mauve underwear, stretched to its ut- 

 most tension by frantic straddles, the housemaid 

 shrieked and threw her apron over her head, but 

 I kept on. Arrived in time, I swung with all my 

 strength on the gobbler's scarlet neck, but missed, 

 and turning several times with the momentum, 

 fell and rolled on the ice. 



I fairly bounced to my feet and dashed after the 

 flying bird. Down the field we went, round the 

 apple trees, the gobbler in the lead, just out of 

 reach. Through the rose-bushes, which tore 

 ravelings from my underwear and cuticle from 

 my straining legs; round by the shed the chase 

 continued, over the wood-pile, which turned and 

 rolled on me, giving the gobbler a fresh start. 



But I picked myself up. I did not feel my 

 bruises. Eliza crossing the ice was not more 

 oblivious of her cut and naked feet. I was going 

 to catch that gobbler if I broke something. No 

 red-headed devil bird should menace the life of 

 the child of my old age ; and again I picked up my 

 agile heels and flew. This time the wily old bird 

 took me over a hard-frozen corn-field with stubs, 

 but failed to shake me off. 



Neighbors threw up the windows and stared. 

 People in passing teams stopped and cheered us 



