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Tale of Turkey Proudfoot (version 2)

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<h2>X</h2> <h3>THE WORM TURNS</h3> Henrietta Hen had no love for Turkey Proudfoot. Beginning with the days of her chickenhood he had always ordered her about, telling her not to do this and not to do that. Even after she was grown up and had a family of her own, Turkey Proudfoot treated her as if she had just begun to scratch for herself. If Henrietta Hen found a spot where somebody had spilled a few kernels of corn Turkey Proudfoot was more than likely to rush up to her and cry, "Go away! I've had my eye on that corn for some time. I saw it first." On such occasions there was nothing Henrietta Hen could do except to stand aside and look on while Turkey Proudfoot ate the corn. He was so much bigger than she that he could bowl her over easily. On her own account Henrietta didn't really think it worth while to try to make any trouble for Turkey Proudfoot. But when she led her first brood of chicks into the yard to teach them to find food for themselves, Turkey Proudfoot's lordly ways made her very angry. "Move your family over on the gravel drive!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered her. Henrietta Hen said flatly that she wouldn't. "There are no bugs—no worms—in the gravel," she told him. "My chicks have a right to go anywhere on this farm." Turkey Proudfoot looked at her in amazement. Never before had Henrietta Hen spoken to him in such a way. "Hoity-toity!" he exclaimed. "Aren't you forgetting your manners, Henrietta?" "No, I'm not!" she snapped. "I've stood too much from you all my life. I warn you now that the worm has turned." Turkey Proudfoot glanced quickly down at the ground. "Where's the worm?" he asked. "Point him out to me before he gets away." "There!" cried Henrietta Hen. "That's just like you. If anybody spies a worm, you think you ought to have it." "Come! come!" Turkey Proudfoot coaxed her. "Don't let's quarrel over a mere trifle such as a worm. Just you show me where you saw him turn and I'll show you how to snatch a worm up in the neatest and quickest fashion." Henrietta Hen tossed her handsome head. "The worm I was talking about is right before you," she sniffed. "If you can't see it, I shan't help you." Of course she had been talking of herself when she remarked that the worm had turned. She had meant that she had always allowed Turkey Proudfoot to treat her like a worm under his feet. But at last she had made up her mind that he shouldn't order her about any longer. Meanwhile Turkey Proudfoot was fast losing his temper. "You've caused me to lose a fine, fat worm; and you shall suffer for it!" he scolded. "The only thing for you to do is to offer me a fine, fat chick in its place." At that Henrietta Hen set up a great clamor. "I'll do nothing of the sort!" she shrieked. And then she screamed for the rooster. "Come quick, Mr. Rooster! Help! Help!" <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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