This announcement at once created a great commotion among the female portion of the Armenian household—the turkeys being looked upon by the women in the establishment as their own particular property.
"What for?" said an elderly dame, whose face was bound up in what appeared to be a dish-cloth.
"To eat."
"Have you any money?" asked the woman suspiciously.
"Money?" said Osman indignantly; "much money. We can afford to eat turkey every day! Now, then, how much for this one?" pointing to an old bird, apparently the paterfamilias of the brood.
"Osman is an ass, sir," here interfered Radford. "That is a very old cock. Osman has his eye on him because he is the biggest, he thinks that we can chew leather, that he do." And pursuing the brood, my English servant succeeded in catching a young pullet, which he brought triumphantly to the woman.
"How much?" I inquired.
"Twelve piastres" (about eighteenpence), replied the woman.
"Twelve piastres," said Osman; "it is a great deal of money—we could not afford to eat turkey at that rate; say ten, and have done with it."
"The bird is a hen, and will have eggs," observed the farmer.