d the verge of the crag, that
he might not fling away his life in his curiosity.
"Did ye git it?" he asked, with bated breath.
"Git what?" demanded poor Ethan, surprised and impatient.
"The tur-r-key--what ye hev done been talkin' 'bout," said George Birt.
Ethan had lost all interest in the turkey. "Yes, yes; but run along,
bub. I mought fall off'n this hyar place,--I'm gittin' stiff sittin'
still so long,--or the wind mought blow me off. The wind is blowin'
toler'ble brief."
"Gobbler or hen?" asked George Birt eagerly.
"It air a hen," said Ethan. "But look-a-hyar, George, I'm a-waitin' on
ye, an' ef I'd fall off'n this hyar place, I'd be ez dead ez a door-nail
in a minute."
"Waal, I'm goin' now," said George Birt, with gratifying alacrity. He
raised himself from his recumbent position, and Ethan heard him
shambling off, kicking every now and then at the fallen leaves as he
went.
Presently, however, he turned and walked back nearly to the brink of the
cliff. Then he prostrated himself once more at full length,--for the
mountain children are very careful of the precipices,--snaked along
dexterously to the verge of the crag, and protruding his red head
cautiously, began to parley once more, trading on Ethan's necessities.
"Ef I go on this yerrand fur ye," he said, looking very sharp indeed,
"will ye gimme one o' the whings of that thar wild tur-r-key?"
He coveted the wing-feathers, not the joint of the fowl. The "whing" of
the domestic turkey is used by the mountain women as a fan, and is
considered an elegance as well as a comfort. George Birt aped the
customs of his elders, regardless of sex,--a characteristic of very
small boys.
"Oh, go 'long, bubby!" exclaimed poor Ethan, in dismay at the
dilatoriness and indifference of his unique deliverer. "I'll give ye
both o' the whings." He would have offered the turkey willingly, if
"bubby" had seemed to crave it.
"Waal, I'm goin' now."
George Birt rose from the ground and started off briskly, exhilarated by
the promise of both the "whings."
Ethan was angry indeed when he heard the boy once more shambling back.
Of course one should regard a deliverer with gratitude, especially a
deliverer from mortal peril; but it may be doubted if Ethan's gratitude
would have been great enough to insure that small red head against a
vigorous rap, if it had been within rapping distance, when it was once
more cautiously protruded over the verge of the cliff.
"I
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