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Show The Diary of a Turkey I f I L o 1 y' -CC - O Turkey gobbler, pride of the barnyard, barn-yard, is strangely missing, lie left behind be-hind him, however, his diary, which has been translated into English for the benefit of our readers. A page of the original diary, as It appeared wnen found, is shown. Sunday Gobble, gobble, gohhle, what a fine-day fine-day it is ! I've been walking around in the sun, spreading my beautiful tall, to give the ducks and geese and chickens a treat. Rut some ptrtpie don't appreciate what you do for them. I overheard two silly old hens, off in a corner, laughing and cackling to themselves. "Ha, ha, ha," they were spying. "He's strutting round mighty proud now but let him wait!" What a foolish thing to say wait for what,. I'd like to know? Monday Met Mr. Red Rooster this morning. "Fine day, Mr. Rooster!" I said. "Don't you think I'm n pretty well-dressed well-dressed bird?" and I turned round and round to show him the sun shining on my feathers. Mr. Rooster sniffed lie actually dirt. "You'll be well dressed all right in a few days," he remarked, and walked off, without explaining svhat he meant. I do think the folks In this barnyard are getting sillier every day. Tuesday Mrs. Pekin Duck Is losing her mind. I am sure of it, because she said the strangest thing to me today ! I bad asked her to observe the fine blues and greens in my tail feathers. "Don't you think I'm handsomely done up?" I asked her. "You'll be done up brown, before long!" she said, tossing her head. I believe the creature's Jealous. A mere duck ! P.ut I mustn't mind what she says. The poor thing hnsn't any tail to speak of. Wednesday Noticed the farmer out getting hi? yellow pumpkins from the field. "They're going to be made into pumpkin pump-kin pies." said Mrs. Gray Goose, when I told her about it. "Splendid!" snbl I. "Maybe they'll give us what's left I love pumpkin pies." "There won't be any left for you or maybe I ought to say there won't be nny of yon left." replied Mrs. Goos'1. She certain'y is Thursday Old Mrs. Speckled Tien has been telling me dreadful stories, trying to get me scared. "This time of yenr's unhealthy for turkeys," says she. "Always "Al-ways has been. Why, yenrs ago the Indians used to go hunting your wild forefathers at tin's time. ind when the Pilgrims came they started doing It, too. T wouldn't be n turkey for anything, any-thing, this time nf jvnr." That's all nonsense. I've heard that story about turkeys bein e:iten by Tndi.-ms and Pilgrims. P.ut those days are over. Things Mice that tiren't being dcn these days ! Friday "!'- sb.-.rp the nlr is this morning:" morn-ing:" I SMiil to n little g-'sMiv: T met. "Yes. it's as slump as steel." said he. grinning from one end of his beek to the other. T sa'v lie was looking toward to-ward the woridi.ilo. where the farmer wns sharpening an ax. Then he winked one eye nt me. 7te:d!y. youns goslings have no iinrm'r at all nowadays. nowa-days. I'rnfy winding rt me! And 1 j don't think that rem-rk about the ai j h:id any sense to it. c'rher - I At this point the d!nry cors"s abruptly. ab-ruptly. Fenr h-s been expressed J nmong Mr. Gobbler's in;iny fr'ends that he met with :m accident slio-tly , after the lest entry. Anyone g ttin--' a j clue to 1 is wherei. bouts dnrin-.' the ! coming week. d;,ad or alive. :s :is!;ed to eouununiontp v:;U his wi'e (widov?. Mrs. Tnrkov rti.M.'er. Jta"!i-ynrd Jta"!i-ynrd Square. .'sre Corby, in the Atlanta At-lanta Cons t it ut 'or ; A: l .5.tv Prizes Fnrtnivi!.-I.v we have n.-i'ii t fsmH feslil.T.'-e nor v. nr. but v. lice.lih and pi'.K-p ni'hin our bo ib' s. i:i : eve n ti e l-':it fomumito lm ni:'i: I reasons to (uln in the iene-i'' 'Kin |