Jehosophat kicked at him with his wet feet, and tried to grab the fat red nose that hung down over the turkey's beak.
At that old Mr. Stuckup's feathers ruffled in anger, and he hurried off, still gobbling "rubber, rubber, rubber," as loud as he could.
Around the house sneaked Jehosophat, trying hard not to be seen.
Half-way to the back door, who should he meet but a procession of the Foolish White Geese.
By this time Jehosophat was not only wet clear through, he was angry clear through too, so he kicked at them.
They stretched out their long white necks and called:
"Hiss! Hiss! Hissssssss!!"
They might be very foolish, these White Geese, but they were sensible enough to know that Jehosophat ought to have been ashamed of himself that afternoon.
To make matters worse, the sun was shining now. He sparkled so brightly on the Gold Rooster on the top of the barn, that Father Wyandotte flapped his wings and cried to all the world:
"Look, look, look, look! You're going to get it—hurroo!"