“I don’t like the looks of that bird,” said Sam, with a very decided air.
“Why, Sam,” said his grandmother, “what do you mean?”
“I don’t like the looks of those legs,” said Sam in the same decided manner.
“What is the matter with them?” asked Mr. Spear, greatly amused at the little boy’s grown-up air.
“I don’t like the color of them,” persisted Sam.
“Why, what color do you expect them to be?” asked Mr. Spear, trying to keep from smiling. “I don’t know what other color they could very well be.”
“Oh, yes, they could!” replied Sam, shrewdly. “I want a turkey with yellow legs, because they are the best.”
“I don’t know as I ever saw a turkey with yellow legs,” replied Mr. Spear, gravely. “If I had one, I would give it to you.”
“Why, Sam,” said Grandmamma, who had been greatly amused at the conversation, “what made you ask for a turkey with yellow legs? They are always lead-color, like this one.”
“Grandpapa always asks for _yellow_-legged ones. He says the blue-legged ones are not fit to eat,” replied Sam, “and you know that Grandpapa is _very particular_.”
“I guess he’s thinking of _chickens_,” said Mr. Spear, “and has got ’em kind of mixed up with turkeys in his mind.”
“That must be it,” replied Mrs. Ledwell. “Well, I will have this one and another just like it. You would like to send one to the little children we saw looking at Santa Claus, wouldn’t you, Sam?”
Then cranberries and apples and potatoes were bought to go with the turkeys, and some huge squashes took Sam’s fancy so greatly that one was sent with each turkey.
After that, wreaths and garlands were selected and piled upon the seat opposite Sam and his grandmother, and they drove home, the fragrance from the evergreens mingling with the crisp air.
After lunch, came what Sam considered about the best part of Christmas, the pleasant task of distributing presents at the houses of their friends. Sam liked to do this all by himself, it gave him such a grown-up feeling. So soon after lunch the sleigh was brought around and piled high with packages of every size and shape, each one neatly addressed. Then Sam was tucked in on the back seat all by himself, and he looked like a little rosy Santa Claus, with his fur cap, the fur robes, and the presents piled high about him.