"I know," said I; "Mrs. Amzi Peters, up on the hill over Taunton, has
got some."

"Who told you about Mrs. Peters's turkeys, Cousin Sam?" said Peggy,
wondering.

"Melindy," said I, quite innocently.

Peter whistled, Peggy laughed, Kate darted a keen glance at me under
her long lashes.

"I know the way there," said mademoiselle, in a suspiciously bland
tone. "Can't you drive there with me, Cousin Sam, and get some more?"

"I shall be charmed," said I.

Peter rang the bell and ordered the horse to be ready in the
single-seated wagon, after dinner. I was going right down to the
farm-house to console Melindy, and take her a book she wanted to read,
for no fine lady of all my New York acquaintance enjoyed a good book
more than she did; but Cousin Kate asked me to wind some yarn for her,
and was so brilliant, so amiable, so altogether charming, I quite
forgot Melindy till dinner-time, and then, when that was over, there
was a basket to be found, and we were off,--turkey-hunting! Down
hill-sides overhung with tasselled chestnut-boughs; through pine-woods
where neither horse nor wagon intruded any noise of hoof or wheel upon
the odorous silence, as we rolled over the sand, past green meadows,
and sloping orchards; over little bright brooks that chattered
musically to the bobolinks on the fence-posts, and were echoed by
those sacerdotal gentlemen in such liquid, bubbling, rollicking,