the farmyard he began to feel
that he had made a great mistake in speaking to them. Their hisses were
far from agreeable. They were even threatening.

"This will never do," Turkey Proudfoot muttered to himself. "No doubt I
could whip all six of them; but they'd be likely to pull some of my tail
feathers out. And I don't want my tail spoiled." For a moment or two he
didn't know what to do. But suddenly an idea popped into his head.

"Follow me!" he ordered the geese. And wheeling about, he marched off
across the farmyard.

The geese waddled after him.

Perched on top of a wagon wheel in front of the barn, the rooster saw
the odd procession. And he gave voice loudly to his delight.

"The geese are chasing Turkey Proudfoot!" he crowed. He called to
everybody to hurry and see the fun. And all the hens came a-running.

"Nonsense!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I ordered the geese to follow me.
They're simply obeying orders." And he strutted, a little faster than
usual, toward the tree near the farmhouse where he roosted every night.

"Halt!" he cried to the geese when they reached the tree. As he spoke,
Turkey Proudfoot flapped himself up and settled on a low branch. At last
he felt safe. He knew that the geese wouldn't follow him up there. With
their webbed feet they never roosted in trees.

Meanwhile the hen turkeys had come a-running too, from the meadow. They
wanted to see what was going on. And they promptly fell into a loud
dispute with the rooster and the hens.

"He did!" the hens cackled, meaning that Turkey Proudfoot had run away
from the geese.

"He didn't!" the hen turkeys squalled, meaning that Turkey Proudfoot
hadn't been chased, but had _led_ the geese across the farmyard.

The six geese took no part in the quarrel. They had driven Turkey
Proudfoot into the tree. And knowing that he wouldn't come down so long
as they waited there, they marched off in single file toward the duck
pond.

"Where are you going?" the rooster asked them.

The leader of the geese turned her head at him and hissed. And her five
companions turned their heads at him too, and hissed likewise.

"I ordered them to go and have a swim," Turkey Proudfoot cried from his
tree, as soon as the geese were out of hearing. "I don't want them about
the farmyard. I haven't time to bother with them. Besides, they're so
stupid that I never could teach them anything. I walked ahead of them,
across the farmyard, to show them the stylish strut. But