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Toytown Treasures

A Turkey Tale

by Wendy Toy

Farmer Townsend stood on his porch and watched the turkeys on his farm.

“This is going to be a good Thanksgiving,” he said to his wife.

“How many turkeys do you have?” she asked.

“I have ten nice fat ones!”

Mrs. Townsend counted the turkeys. She did it again.

“But I only count nine turkeys.”

“Well, maybe one is still in the barn.” The farmer yawned. “Time for me to turn in.”

The next morning Farmer Townsend went outside and counted his turkeys.

“Thelma!” he called. “Come quick. Some turkeys are missing!”

The couple ran to the yard and counted the turkeys.

“Only eight,” said the farmer’s wife.

“Where could they be?” asked the farmer. “I wanted to sell the turkeys for Thanksgiving.”

“Maybe they don’t want you to sell them.”

Farmer Townsend frowned. “But I always sell turkeys at Thanksgiving.”

“Do you feed these turkeys?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you give them water?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you play your banjo for them?”

“Every night I do."

“Do you sing to them?”

“When I play my banjo, I sing to them.”

“And how do the turkeys act when you sing and play for them?”

Farmer Townsend glanced around. “They dance,” he whispered.

“Maybe they just don’t want to leave.”

“But some of the turkeys are gone already.” The farmer scratched his head.

“Hmmm,” said Mrs. Townsend, “this is a problem.”

Farmer Townsend counted the turkeys again.

“Oh no! Now there are only seven turkeys.”

Mrs. Townsend spied one turkey sneaking away. It scooted into a big pile of hay.

She tapped the farmer’s arm. “Watch that pile of hay.”

Farmer Townsend watched one turkey and then another tiptoe toward the hay.

Soon only five turkeys stood in the yard.

The farmer ran into the house and grabbed his banjo.

He strode to the yard and began to play and sing.

The five turkeys in the yard began to do a turkey dance.

One by one the other turkeys scooted out of the hay.

The farmer sang and played until all ten turkeys danced in the yard.

Then he stopped.

“I won’t sell you,” he promised the turkeys.

“Well, dear,” he said to his wife. “What will I do?”

His wife smiled. “Look over there.”

The farmer watched as the thankful turkeys went to work.

They removed the pile of hay to show a large oven.

Soon the turkeys tied on aprons and busied themselves in their kitchen.

The oldest turkey presented the farmer with a pumpkin pie.

The next turkey brought a pie then another brought a pie.

Soon the farmer had ten pumpkin pies.

“That’s what I will sell,” said the farmer. “I’ll sell Turkey-made pumpkin pies.”

Now every year at Thanksgiving, instead of selling turkeys, Farmer Townsend puts up a sign :

Turkey-made pumpkin pies for sale.

The farmer plays his banjo and sings.

The thankful turkeys bop and wiggle and flap their wings.

And everyone who comes to watch them dance, buys Farmer Townsend’s Turkey-made pumpkin pies.

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Toytown Treasures

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