124 WHERE ROLLS THE OREGON 



them down. The owner, in despair of reaching 

 the market in time, appealed to the town and 

 sold each man his Thanksgiving turkey in the 

 tree, the purchaser to shoot his particular bird or 

 otherwise to fetch him down. 



In a chapter of " Winter " I have described a 

 turkey-drive in New Brunswick as it was de- 

 scribed tome by a friend who saw it, — how the 

 turkeys, suddenly taking a notion to go to roost, 

 flew upon a little chapel and, in spite of the driv- 

 ers, roosted there, literally covering the building, 

 roof, belfry, window ledges, and portico, as fast 

 as they were pushed off at one place coming back 

 at another. 



The cat, again, is as wild a case as the turkey. 

 Stroke kitty the wrong way and she spits. Yet 

 she sleeps in the kitchen by the fire. What of it ? 

 The very lap of her mistress has not counted with 

 the cat in her. The cat in kitty is wild to the tip 

 of her twitching tail. Watch her — if she has n't 

 already scratched you — as, crouched in the grass, 

 she takes her way toward some unsuspecting bird. 

 A shiver runs through you. You can feel her 

 claws — so tiger-like is she, so wild and savage, 

 so bent on the kill. Or come upon her at dead 



