The Wild Turkey 255 



tracted their gaze upward, and against these 

 were their useless efforts directed. Possibly, if 

 they thought over the matter at all, they fancied 

 that they had eaten so much that they could 

 not pass out by the gaps through which they 

 must have passed in. Peradventure, an occa- 

 sional bird, falling exhausted by terrified efforts 

 to reach the places where the light shone, did 

 actually tumble into the trench and so blunder 

 to freedom; but the great majority failed to do 

 so. Not being aware of the priceless value of a 

 shrewd duck for a low bridge, they stalked about 

 with long necks stretched upward to their fullest 

 extent, ever striving to find some lofty outlet. 

 In this they were unmitigated asses — in fact, 

 not unlike some men. 



Then to the pen came the — extremely likely 

 in the first instance — the Puritan Parent of this 

 our race. The P. P. was no sportsman, and 

 I can well imagine the horrified turkeys first 

 hearing his nasal whine of thanksgiving, then 

 catching a glimpse of his wolfish mug through 

 the cracks, and immediately afterward catching 

 the very devil from his unsportsmanlike club. 

 After him came another class of settler, per- 

 haps more parsimonious in the matter of praise, 

 more profuse in profanity, more prolific of pens. 

 In any event, he and his progeny did much to 

 clean up the turkeys as they did grand things in 



