‘Watch me start this young bird on the run.’
“Well they fought all the night; ’twas no everyday fight,
But by the faint light of the dawn
Could be seen the young turkey high up in the tree,
And the Terrible Turk—he was gone.
“So remember, my friend, when you fight for a prize,
That success does not always depend upon size.”
“Do you advise me to try to whip old Grouch now?” asked Wongo.
“Well, not in an actual fight with tooth and claw,” drawled the crow. “We sometimes have to fight with our wits, and there is usually more than one way to defeat an enemy. I, myself, have long wanted to get rid of that old trouble-maker, and we may hit upon a plan, but hush!” he ejaculated in a lower tone, “there he goes now.”