"I was only trying to be polite," Mr. Crow told him. "You're always complaining that I don't talk about matters you can understand."
"I understand these only too well—" Turkey Proudfoot said—"especially at this season of the year!"
XXIII
VACATION TIME
It was well along in November. And Turkey Proudfoot was feeling fidgetty. Whenever Farmer Green or the hired man stepped into the yard, he started up with a wild look in his eye.
Turkey Proudfoot was no longer roosting at night in the tree near the farmhouse.
With the coming of cold weather he had been glad enough to roost under a shed beside the barn.
Ever since the winter before, Turkey Proudfoot had enjoyed sound sleeps at night. But for weeks now he had often[p. 111] waked up in the middle of the night and found himself all a-shiver.