Turkeys
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he turkeys wade the close to catch the beesIn the old border full of maple treesAnd often lay away and breed and comeAnd bring a brood of chelping chickens home.The turkey gobbles loud and drops his ragAnd struts and sprunts his tail and then lets dragHis wing on ground and makes a huzzing noise,Nauntles at passer-bye and drives the boysAnd bounces up and flies at passer-bye.The old dog snaps and grins nor ventures nigh.He gobbles loud and drives the boys from play;They throw their sticks and kick and run away.
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