XLV.—His Cares 



THE big gobbler is a changed bird these 

 days. The cares of fatherhood are weigh- 

 ing heavily upon him, A few days ago 

 he came across a Plymouth Rock hen that 

 had hatched out a clutch of turkeys. Although 

 they are barely able to toddle around, the gobbler 

 recognised them at once as part of his family and 

 took up his duties as parent in a most commendable 

 manner. With a subdued and responsible air he fol- 

 lows the old hen and the little poults wherever they 

 go, stepping softly and refraining from noisy gob- 

 bling. But I am afraid he is not entirely satisfied 

 with the foster mother of his family. After the last 

 big thunderstorm he came up to the door where I 

 was sitting and was evidently very much put out 

 about something. He was wet to his last feather 

 and I have seldom known him to be in such a bad 

 humour. Possibly the old Plymouth Rock didn't act 

 as a turkey mother should during a thunderstorm. 

 Anyway, he seemed to hold me responsible for what- 



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