"Oh stop! Stop! Is _that a turkey bird?_" cried Peaches. "Surely it is," said Mrs. Harding. "Why childie, haven't you ever seen a turkey, either?" "No I didn't ever," said Peaches. "Can turkey birds sing?" Just then the gobbler stuck forward his head and sang: "Gehobble, hobble, hobble!" Peaches gripped Peter's hair and started to ascend him again. Mrs. Harding waved her apron; the turkey suddenly reduced its size three-fourths, skipped aside, and a neat, trim bird, high stepping and dainty, walked through the orchard. Peaches collapsed in Peter's arms in open-mouthed wonder. "Gosh! How did it cave in like that?" she cried. Peter's shoulders were shaking, but he answered gravely: "Well that's a way it has of puffing itself up and making a great big pretense that it is going to flop us, and then if just little Bobbie or Ma waves an apron or a stick it gets out of the way in a hurry." "I've seen Multiopolis millyingaires cave in like that sometimes when I waved a morning paper with an inch-high headline about them," commented Mickey. Peter Harding glanced at his wife, then they laughed together. Peter stepped over a snake fence, went carefully down a hill, crossed the meadow to the shade of a tree, sat on the bank of the brook and watched Peaches as she studied first the clear babbling water, then the grass trailing in the stream, the bushes, trees, and then the water again. "Mickey, come here!" she commanded. "Put your head right down beside mine. Now look just the way I do, an' tell me what you see." "I see running water, grassy banks, trees, the birds, the sky and the clouds--the water shows what's above it like a mirror, Lily." Peaches pointed. Mickey watched intently. "Sure!" he cried. "Little fish with red speckles on them. Shall I catch you one to see?" "'Tain't my eyes then?" questioned Peaches. "Your eyes, Miss?" asked Mickey bewildered. "'Tain't my eyes seein' things that yours doesn't?" Mickey took her hand and drew closer. "Well, it isn't any wonder you almost doubt it, honey," he said. "I would too, if I hadn't ever seen it before. But I been on the trolley, and on a few newsboys' excursions, and in the car with Mr. Bruce, and I've got to walk along the str--roads some, so I know it's real. Let me show you----!" Mickey slipped down the bank, scooped his hands full of water, and lifted them, letting it drip through his fingers. Then he made a sweep and brought up one of the fish, brightly marked as a flower, and gasping in the air. "Look quick!" he cried. "See it good! It's used to water and the air chokes it, just like the water would you if a big fish would take you and hold your head under; I got to put it back quick." "Mickey, lay it in my hand, just a little bit!" Mickey obeyed while Peaches examined it hurriedly. "Put it back!" she cried. "I guess that's as long as I'd want to be choked, while a fish looked at me."