rkey cock anywhere in sight, either on the ground or in the trees.

Just for a moment Turkey Proudfoot was worried.

"That wasn't _my_ gobble, was it?" he asked the rooster. "If I gobbled,
I didn't know it."

"No! You didn't gobble," said the rooster, "though I must say that
gobbling sounded a good deal like yours."

"_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_"

"There it goes again!" cried Turkey Proudfoot. He was almost frantic.
"How can I fight that fellow if I can't see him?" he cried. He looked up
at the roof of the barn; but there was no one there except the gilded
rooster that told which way the wind blew. He looked up at the roof of
the farmhouse.

"You don't suppose that fellow's hiding in the chimney, do you?" he
asked.

"No doubt he is," said the rooster. "If I were you I'd fly up there and
catch him."

"The roof's high for one of my weight to fly to," Turkey Proudfoot
remarked.

"Still, I could flap up to the top of the woodshed and get to the roof
of the house from there.... I'll take a look and see how high the house
seems when I'm near it."

[Illustration: Polly Imitates Turkey Proudfoot's Gobble. (_Page_ 42)]

To the rooster's delight, Turkey Proudfoot started towards the house.
The rooster promptly called to all the hens to "come quick," because
Turkey Proudfoot was going to fly to the roof of the farmhouse. "I hope
he won't get into trouble," said the rooster with a chuckle. "It would
be a pity if he fell down the chimney."

In spite of his words, the rooster didn't look at all uneasy. Indeed,
the only thing that worried him was the fear that Turkey Proudfoot
_wouldn't_ get himself into a scrape. But he thought it more polite not
to say exactly what he hoped.

Turkey Proudfoot stalked up to the farmhouse and stopped near the
piazza. He was gazing upwards and measuring the height of the roof with
his eye when all at once a loud "_Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!_"
almost tipped him over backward.

The outcry came from the farmhouse. There was no doubt of that. But it
didn't come from the roof, nor the chimney.

Turkey Proudfoot stared at the windows and the doors and saw no one
except Miss Kitty Cat, dozing on a window sill. Then something moved
beneath the piazza ceiling. It was a cage, which swayed as a green
figure clung to the wires on one side of it.

"I'm a handsome bird," a voice informed Turkey Proudfoot. "_Gobble,
gobble, gobble, gobble!_"

For once in his life Turkey Proudfoot had