appeared, wiping her red, puckered hands on a long brown towel.

"Can you let me have some of your young turkeys, ma'am?" said I,
insinuatingly.

"Well, I do'no';--want to eat 'em or raise 'em?"

"Both, I believe," was my meek answer.

"I do'no' 'bout lettin' on 'em go; 'ta'n't no gret good to sell 'em
after all the risks is over; they git their own livin' pretty much
now, an' they'll be wuth twice as much by'm'by."

"I suppose so; but Mrs. Smith's turkeys have all died, and she likes
to raise them."

"Dew tell, ef you han't come from Miss Peter Smith's! Well, she'd
oughter do gret things with that 'ere meetin'-'us o' her'n for the
chickens; it's kinder genteel-lookin', and I spose they've got means;
they've got ability. Gentility without ability I do despise; but where
't'a'n't so, 't'a'n't no matter; but I'xpect it don't ensure the
faowls none, doos it?"

"I rather think not," said I, laughing; "that is the reason we want
some of yours."

"Well, I should think you could hev some on 'em. What be you
calc'latin' to give?"

"Whatever you say. I do not know at all the market price."