BROTHER TOM
It was almost dark in the cornfield on a crisp evening late in November.It was not Farmer Green's field, but that of a neighbor of his. And itwas far from any house.
The pumpkins had been gathered weeks before. The cornstalks had longsince been cut and now stood in shocks amidst the stubble.
On the whole, the scene was bleak and dismal. Not a creature movedanywhere. Even the meadow, mice had already found the nights too chillyfor their liking. Turkey Proudfoot was there alone, standing like astatue, as if he were waiting for somebody.
"I don't see where he can be," Turkey Proudfoot muttered. "I've spentthree days and three nights here already. And he has never been latebefore in all the years that I've been coming here for my vacation."
At last Turkey Proudfoot bestirred himself. With a hop, skip and a jumphe landed on top of the rail fence that surrounded the field and settledhimself for the night.
He had scarcely closed his eyes when a faint "Gobble, gobble, gobble"from across the cornfield drove all idea of sleep out of his head. Hestarted up, stretched his long neck as high as he could, and burst forthwith a deafening "Gobble, gobble, gobble!" Then he paused andlistened.
The answer soon reached him. It was nearer this time. And after TurkeyProudfoot had repeated his interesting remark about a dozen times a hugeold turkey cock came running up and alighted, panting, upon thefence-rail where Turkey Proudfoot was roosting.
"You're late," Turkey Proudfoot greeted him. "I'd begun to fear that youhad met with an accident. What kept you?"
"They shut me up in a pen," the newcomer told him. He was still somewhatout of breath, partly because of rage at having been imprisoned, partlybecause he had been hurrying. "They shut me up two days ago," heexplained.
"Ah!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You ought to have left home threedays ago. Did you forget our yearly meeting?"
"No!" said the other. "But I must have miscounted the days."
"That's very dangerous at this time of year," Turkey Proudfoot replied."It's a wonder that you escaped from the pen. How did you manage to slipout!"
"Somebody left the door ajar," said the strange turkey.
"Ah! I've always claimed that our family was lucky!" Turkey Proudfootcried. And he gave his companion a slap on the back with his wing.
Now, that was a jolly thing to do--and not at all like Turkey Proudfoot.But he was glad to see the newcomer. They were brothers. They had beenseparated when quite young; and they had lived on neighboring farms alltheir lives.
For a time they talked together pleasantly enough. Of course TurkeyProudfoot couldn't help boasting about the way he ruled the roost whenhe was at home. But his brother Tom was just as great a boaster. Andafter a time each began to think the other's stories somewhat tiresome.So they began to yawn. And at last they fell asleep.
A crescent moon peeped down at them from a clear, cold sky that crackledwith stars. A chilling breeze swept down the valley. And sometime duringthe night Turkey Proudfoot woke up and found himself a-shiver. He sidledalong the rail and huddled against his brother Tom.
Brother Tom stirred and stretched himself.
"This night's a nipper, isn't it?" he remarked. "I can't help wishing mylegs were like Mr. Grouse's."
"Huh!" Turkey Proudfoot exclaimed. "You'd look queer--as fat as youare--if you had legs as short as his."
"Ah! But his legs are feathered out. And there's nothing like feathersto keep the cold off," said Brother Tom.
"I suppose," said Turkey Proudfoot, "Mr. Grouse's legs wouldn't get ascold as ours do, even if he hadn't a feather on them."
"Why not?" asked Brother Tom.
"Because they're shorter," said Turkey Proudfoot.
Brother Tom made no reply. He was no longer awake.
Being on the leeward side of his brother, Turkey Proudfoot began to feelwarmer.
"I'm glad Tom's a big fellow," he murmured drowsily. "He makes a finewindbreak." Then he too fell asleep.
And the next day was Thanksgiving.
THE END.
* * * * * * * * * * * *