" WHAT S TO BE DONE WITH THE TURKEY."

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XII, Issue 113, 15 May 1877, Page 2

" WHAT S TO BE DONE WITH THE TURKEY."

We are indebted to Mr J. Hounsell for the opportunity of perusing an amusing little pamphlet published a few days prior to the departure of the Suez mail from London, which, under the title of " What's to be done with Turkey? or John Bull's Dilemma," contains a clever skit upon the attitude assumed by England on the Eastern question. Of the contents of this we propose to give a short summary, in the belief tbat it will prove as amusing to our readers as the work has been to ourselves. The four principal characters introduced are Mr John Bull, Mrs Bull, by whom we presume that the sentimental portion of the nation is intended to be represented, Ben (the Earl of Beaconsfield), and William (Mr Gladstone.) We shall slightly alter the order of the pamphlet by first quoting from Chapter 111., which is devoted to "The good boy William, and the baddish boy Ben." These two youths are engaged in Mr and Mrs Bull's farmyard, the former being patronised by Mr Bull, the latter a decided favorite of Mrs : BuU's. " Ben " was not a very good, but, on the other hand, not an out-and-out bad boy, but what might bo called " baddish," and decidedly clever. How he ever appeared before the public is thus described :— His father had been an old clothes man, so, at least, said rumor, and one evening Mr Bull, when walking in his garden, stumbled over a bag, in which was found a baby clad in dirty and ragged garments, and having round his neck this inscription: — A gift from Israel to John Bull, beneath which was written " Hish nam. ish Ben— hish tribe proud Bon-Esau— Nbw up, now down, hish life will all be ahoo-shawl" Mr Ball took the infant in hand, and had him reared at the expense of the parish, and on attaining boyhood the youngster evinced "an extraordinary irreverence for all those institutions which ought to awe the mind of adolescence." He paid no respect to the parish Beadle " that portly incarnation of all the proprieties," played marbies on Sunday, and was once discovered learning to dance on the tombstones in the churchyard. He was also a clever caricaturist, and in tho exercise of this talent spared neither the aristocracy nor the dignitaries of the church. "We fervently believe," says the writer, " that had an angel from heaven come down to visit him, he would have made fun of his wings." Altogether he proved himself to be an exceedingly clever lad. "Some he thrashed, and others he chafEed until everybody was afraid of him." " That boy will get on" was the quiet remark of the schoolmastery and get on he did. Now William was quite a contrast to Ben. He was a moral boy. "He never called names, he never put his tongue in his cheek, he never made grimaces or drew caricatures, he never played at vulgar games. 'He loved books better than marbles— good books of course. He worshipped the Beadle.- He had a wonderful head for figures, and could count up to anything without stopping ,to take his breath, and he was always right. He knew his catechism by heart, and he could turn any one of Dr Watts' hymns into Greek. In short, he was as gifted as he was good, ■•and had only one fault —he never smiled, and couldn't for the life of him understand a joke." Such is the description of the two boys engaged on Mr and Mrs Bull's farm. Further details are given of how William lost his billet, and was supplanted by Ben, but these we have not space to give in detail. Suffice it to say that Ben was Mr Bull's, and William Mrs Bull's favorite. Now to "hark back." The scene opens in the Bulls' farm yard. Mrs B. is remonstrating with Mr B. about that Turkey which stands there "swollen aud distorted with stuffing and cramming, greedy, cruel, a great swaggering tyrant, with no cry but ' gobble gobble,' and no thought but gluttony." " Here's Christmas coming " she says, " and there's little or nothing in the larder. Have the Turkey killed." A discussion ensues, and while this is going on we may as well describe the farmyard and its occupants. " There was a great sty, to which was attached a long clean 'run ' for the Russian Pig and his family, who were in a semi-wild state and needed plenty of room. There were snug separate sleeping places for the Prussian Gander, and the Austrian Goose, who had quarrelled from time immemorial, and could nqt live peaaeably together. There was a duck-house for the Italian Duck and the other Ducks with a nice little pond to swim in; and there was a splendid poultry house with a bran new roost for tbe red French Cock." Of the proprietors of the farmyard we are told that they were a worthy couple, good Christian people whose piety was extreme, while their morals were unexceptionable. Mrs B. was a dear creature, full of sentimental impulse, and practical good nature, who used to delight in saying, « I am a Christian woman, and I hate fighting; I'll have no fighting in my farmyard.' Mr B. too, ' although not a Quaker, loved peace, but had one great fault if fighting did take place, he. never interfered until the last moment; "and, peaceful as he was, he had on one occasion stood quietly by while the Prussian Gander thrashed -the French Cock within an inch' of his life,' This phlegmatic manner of his was a cause of constant irritation to his good wife who sometimes almost thought him a coward, but in her secret heart she knew better. The good couple, however, could not agree as to the merits of the Turkey. Mr B. called him a " good fat harmless fellow, whose only fault was laziness." Mrs B. regarded him as " a spiteful, cruel thing," who carried lazi- ! ness to a point at which it reached wicked- I ness. "So the Turkey grew bigger, with a comb as red as blood, and a body swollen with good living. He was very sly as well as greedy, He not only gobbled up all the food of his neighbors who were too small to protect themselves, but he would steal out at night, and, quietly knocking the chickens off their roosts, sit upon them till they were dead, and when morning came and the dead bodies were found, who looked so innocent as the Turkey? " Thou canst not say I did it," was expressed in every blink of his little round sleepy eyes. Now just at this time a terrible commotion arose in the yard, and pocks, hons, ducks, and geese were all shrieking together. Mrs Bull rushed to the window and looked out, and there she saw the poor little Servian Bantam Cock in the grip of the great Turkey, and, to her horror, standing quietly by if not actually encouraging the great cruel bird was "a queer looking youth with long corkscrew riuglets, and a wrinkled, old-fashioned face. He was cad in corduroy breeches and coarse stockings and shoes; he was in his shirt sleeves, and wore on his head a fine velvet cap, prettily ornamented with a device like an earl's coronet. This he had received as a reward of good conduct at the neighboring Sunday school, but for all that he was not a pious boy, but preferred playing at odds and evens in church to listenine to the sermon." Down ran Mrs Bull, but by the time she arrived the little Servian Bantam Cock

;h_d shaken himself, free, stretched out his ttihy throat, and begin to crovf. Nevertheless | ;the enraged ilady was not to be pacified so !. she "wen. for'? Vßenj and fcoundly\boxed his ;ears. .She then picked up the little bantam wh'ch was badly wounded, took it into the house and bathed its wounds, but no sooner had she set it down in the yard again than the Turkey was at it once more. ;Then there arose the same commotion that had been Heard before. " Crowds of ducks and poultry surged hither and thither; excited female fowls stood chattering on coops and kennels; ; geese screamed, and ducks quacked," but above all was heard Mrs Bull's voice implorI ing Mr Bull to come down to the rescue. At that moment a soft voice whispered in her ear, *< Please'm can / be of any use ? " Turning quickly, she beheld "a young boy with a very old face, with short trowsers and black stockings, who had on his head a fourcornered schoolboy's hat, and carried in his hand a rolled-up copy book." Mrs Bull uttered a joyful exclamation—" Oh, William dear, is it you?" A short conversation ensues, which ends in William saying in a significant whisper, "Please'm the Russiau Pig is nearly loose, and you know how he hates the Turkey. Shall I let him loose at once ? " " Yes, yes," said Mrs Bull, hysterically, and William set oif at once for the sty when Ben interposed, and the two commenced fighting. Mr Bull now interferes, and having separated the boys, and dragged the Turkey off the poor little Servian Bantam, he pauses to take breath. Mrs Bull implores j him to let loose the Pig which, though he dis- | likes the Turkey so much, is " a dear good loving creature and would certainly keep peace in the yard." If a thunderbolt had fallen at Mr Bull's feet he could not have looked more astonished He first stared at his wife; then at the two boys, then at the Pig himself. "Do you know what you are talking about my dear?" he exclaimed at last, •' Good and loving! The Pig! God bless me! Do you hear her boys?" " Yes, master," said William, "and it's true. Just look at him now! Bless his kind honest face, ho loves all the chicks like a father." The Pig, as if he understood the remark, threw as much benignity into his countenance as possible, and gazed with an air of serene abstraction at the cocks and hens. He had a straw in his mouth, and a tear in his eye, and looked quite respectable. " What do you say Ben?" asked Mr Bull, turning to the other bjy who was making a hideous grimace at William. "Me, sir?" said Ben touching his forelock. All 1 say is this— if you let loose the Pig who's to catch him again?" Hereupon the farmer was much perturbed. Hq paced up and down the yard, and at last he said, " Come inside and talk it over, both of you. We'll settle the matter once aud for all. And the first bird that disturbs us while we are talking shall have its neck wrung on the spot. As for the Pig, who's trying all he can to get out, he'd better hold his noise, or as sure as my name's John, ttiere 11 be an end of his squeak." The birds all around seemed to understand The Turkey, with a dull blink of his sleepy eye waddled off to his coop and went to sleep, lhe little Servian Cock hopped off quietly among his friends. The Prussian Goose, who had been looking quietly on, began to graze on a little patch of green in tbe corner of the yard.. The Pig, who had been grunting and struggling violently to get out, squatted down on his hams and looked innocently at heaven. So all was hushed and Mr Bull led the way into the farmhouse. The account of what took place then we give in full.

{Continued on Fourth Page.)

{Concluded from Second Page.) THE CONFERENCE. " And now, boys," said Mr Bull, t( while the birds and beasts are talking it all over amongst themselves, let us see what is to be done. Your plan, William is to let the Pig loose, and make bim a sort of policeman to keep the Turkey in order. Now, that's all very well, but I can't afford to lose the Turkey, and I can't afford to lose the Pig. If you could prove to me that the Pig was harmless, it would be another matter." William smiled gently— the smile of superior wisdom. "I think I can do that, sir, if you will allow me, in a very few minutes; but before I begin to try, I must beg to have no unseemly interruptions from Benjamin. I bave alwaya seen witb pain, sir, you luck of confidence in the Pig. True, be has a comfortable sty, and a long run, but that is not enough —he chafes and frets in such confinement. He bus his faults, I will admit; the eccentric habit of devouriog hia own off.priug is certainly not to hia credit, and he is subject to sudden attacks of fury — a species of vertigo, duriug which he has sometimes been very violent indeed. He is, as you know, only half domesticated, and needs Christian encouragement to make him improve. But a Pig, as a Pig, is superior to a Turkey, as a Turkey. He is larger, to begin with; higher in the scale of nature, sir. He is capable of improvement to almost any extent. A performing Pig is a wonderful sight, often to be seen at our fairs, and exhibiting almost prophetic faculties. On the oiher hand, the idea of a performing Turkey is ridiculous. All be can do is to gobble, gobble." " Go on," said Mr Bull, while William paused for breath. " I bave no more to say, sir. AU the world, I believe, is agreed as to the Pig's merits, whereas tbe Turkey is, and ever will be an impediment, far better out of tbe way. The Turkey is plethoric by constitution, and cruel by habit; expensive to feed, and impossible to improve; a great deal too big for his own coop, Bnd dangerous if let loose in the yard. His cruelties are notorious. There is not a fowl in the place tbat would not gladly see him exterminated. In the interests of your own peace of mind, of public decency, of general morality, I demand the obliteration of the Turkey. Not oniy is he a trouble to youraelf, but he is a nuisance to the whole neighborhood." " There he is," cried Mrs Bull; and from the far distance there came a busy hum as of voices, murmuring " Hear, hear." c * John Bull started, listening " What's that?" he cried. ° Walking to the window, he saw, pressed against the yard gate, numbers of eager faces, whose owners were obviously trying to hear what was going on in the farm. "rlease, master," said Ben in his ear, " They're friends of William's." "Ha 1" exclaimed the farmer, scowling, "Is that true, William?" . "It is, sir," replied William, with an air of pride. Here Ben eagerly broke in again, "Before William came iuto the yard, Isee him along with theothers holding a meeting on the common. They were speechifying and talking all about me and the Turkey ; and 0 master, you ehould have heard the names they called you. I know what they're after I They want to nag you into giving the situation back to William, but you won't, sir, will you ?" "I don't want it," said William, quietly ; «• my time is sufficiently occupied in improving my mind. The truth is, sir," he continued, addressing Mr Bull, "that all the neighbours are d_3~gusted with Benjamin's negligence and wuni of feeling. On more than one ocea.ion he hns been seen chivying— l believe (bat is the vulgar expression — chivying and irritating the P<g. H. is v boy of a very low order of uiiud indeed, and incapable of acting viituousiy or of composing an essay." ° There waa a long pause. Mr Bull Blood wiih knitted brows, glancing alternately at tbe two boys. At las. be -broke tiie silence. " Weil, Bdn, what have you to say?" " Jud-. ibis, master," answered Ben. "It's like that William to try to tu.ke this h.ie a pretext against me, to go Slhriug up all the bad boys of tbe parish anapi.i_.ing tbeir miuds. When William was here in tbe situation, be didu't thiuk ihe Pig an angel then ! O dear no, quite t'other. Why, you might as well try to say black's while, or to call

vinegar lemonade, as to go pretending there's any goodness in the Pig. Once give him bis liberty, and look out for your chickens, that's all, I dont say the Turkey's perfect, but he's a born baby compared to the Pig, Look at the Pig's run ! Well, that's big enough, goodness knows, and yet for all that the beast is always trying to get out ; while as for the poor old Turkey, he"il snooze in bis coop from one week's end to another, and never do harm to nobody. The Pig'H eat anything, from its own litter to a pair o'boots, and it's mighty fond of tender young chickens. Just look into the sty, air 1 Look at all the pigs timidly sitting round him, afraid to say their lives are their own. It would make your heart blaed to see the poor little Polish squealer lying in his dark corner, afraid to come out aad feed, for fear the big one will give him a whopping. The Pig's a brute, that's the long and the short of it. Do what you like with the Turkey, master, but for goodness' sake, dont go and let loose the Pig I" me. bull sums up — a chbistmas dinner in perspective. Mr Bull threw himself into a chair, and for a long time remained plunged in deep cogitation. The two boys stood watching him with eager eyes; while Mrs Bull, knowing her husband's temper, quietly busied herself in household matters. Finally, the honest man looked up with no very amiable expression of countenance. " It's a bad thing," he said, " that matters can't go on peaceably, especially nt Christmas time. Look here, William. I suppose you've heard that Christmas is the time for peace on earth, good will to all things" — •* Except Turkeys," said William, smiling. "Except nothing," said Mr Bull, " Bah, you're a bit of a prig, William." " Thank you, sir." " And as for you, Ben, you're not much better, and if you don't conduct youreelf in a more becoming way, you and I shall quarrel. The fact is, I'm pleased with neither of yoa ! You're only [trying io serve your own ends, and not thinking about my interests at all. One tries to make an angel of the Turkey, and the other glorifies the Pig; and both ought to know better." So saying, Mr Bull was going to leave the room, when his wife cried out eagerly, " But Mr Bull, you haven't decidsd at all — what's lo be done with the Turkey? " The farmer turned savagely, his face as red as the Turkey's comb, " I tell you what it is," he cried, "I'm sick of the whole business. If peace isn't kept in the farmyard, I'll astonish the whole of you. For the time being, the Turkey will be let alone, and closed tight in his coop; and the Pig will be shut up in his stye; and I look to you, Ben, to see this done. If ever this fuss begins again,"— John Bull paused,. as if preparing to take a great oath. " If ever it begins again, mark my words, before Dext Christmas, old as that Turkey is, and tough, I'll eat him!" William smiled; Beu looked dejected. "But mind you, when the day comes that I do eat him, he'll be served up in the usual way, with a string of sausages around him ; and those sausages ''— "Yee, yee," cried Mrs Bull, " Will be the very last you'll see of the pig ! "