looked just like Rocky Pasture . . .
And best of all, they scaled the dizzying heights of Towering Grain Silo.
That is, Timmy did. Tommy always refused to climb the shaky ladder. So Timmy would go up alone, and when he reached the very tip-top, he would look down and shout, "Tommy is a chicken! Tommy is a chicken!"
At this, Tommy would always look very indignant, and sometimes he would even stalk off in a huff. A chicken, indeed! What an insult!
But by bedtime, all would be forgiven, and Timmy would lie awake in bed and whisper secrets across the room to where Tommy slept on a pallet on the floor. And although Tommy couldn't talk the way normal people did, sometimes he would jabber nonsense in response to Timmy's whispers. At least, Daddy Mike said that it was nonsense, but Timmy knew better. After all, Tommy's jabbering sounded just like Mrs. Krunholtz at Sunday Church when she rolled around on the floor and spoke in tongues. And no one ever said that Mrs. Krunholtz was jabbering nonsense.
One November morning while it was still dark, Timmy woke up to the sounds of the kitchen door banging shut and Daddy Mike's boots clomping into the barnyard. Timmy was surprised. Daddy Mike got up early every morning to milk Maybelle, but never this early. Timmy didn't know what to make of it.
"Come on, Tommy!" Timmy cried, throwing off his blankets and grabbing his pint-sized coveralls from the bedpost. "Let's go see what Daddy Mike's doing! Maybe we can help!"
Tommy jabbered in agreement, and together they hurried downstairs, almost tumbling over one another in their excitement.
When they reached the kitchen, they found that Mama Jane was up and about, too. She was putting a big pot of water on the stove.
"Oh good," Mama Jane said when she saw Timmy and Tommy. "I'm glad you two are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed! There's a lot to do today!"
"Why?" Timmy asked. "What's today?"
"Well, my goodness, child!" Mama Jane said. "It's Thanksgiving! Now, run out and help Daddy Mike. The sun's coming up, and my whole family will be here before you can say Jack Robinson – so hop to it!"
Timmy and Tommy hopped outside, and then Timmy saw Daddy Mike, along with Buster and Scotty the Farm Dogs, standing in the barnyard beside the old oak stump that Timmy and Tommy used as the deck of their battleship. So Timmy dashed out to the stump with Tommy hurrying close behind.
"Why, there you are!" Daddy Mike exclaimed when he saw Timmy and Tommy. "I thought you were going to sleep the day away!" And with that, he grabbed Tommy by the feet and slammed him onto the stump.
"Daddy Mike!" Timmy cried. "Is Tommy in trouble?"
"In a manner of speaking," Daddy Mike said. Then he picked up a hatchet that had been hidden on the far side of the stump, and with one quick stroke, he chopped off Tommy's head. Tommy's head flew away and tumbled to the dirt, and Tommy's blood spurted from his neck onto Daddy Mike's hand.
Then Buster and Scotty the Farm Dogs began making quite a ruckus. They were fighting over Tommy's head.
"Timmy, take Tommy's head and put it in the trash barrel down by the barn," said Daddy Mike. "If Buster or Scotty got hold of it, they could start choking, and then I'd have to get the gun."
So Timmy picked up Tommy's head and went down to the barn with Buster and Scotty nipping at his heels.
"Tommy?" Timmy said to Tommy's head. "What did you do to get in trouble?"
But Tommy's head didn't even jabber. It just gazed up at Timmy with one glassy black eye.
"Timmy!" Daddy Mike cried then. "Come look at this!"
Daddy Mike sounded excited, so Timmy dropped Tommy's head into the trash barrel and ran back to the old oak stump as fast as he could. When he got there, he saw Tommy staggering toward the house, leaving a squiggly trail of blood behind him. Before long, though, Tommy flopped over and lay there twitching.
"Did you ever see the like?" Daddy Mike
And best of all, they scaled the dizzying heights of Towering Grain Silo.
That is, Timmy did. Tommy always refused to climb the shaky ladder. So Timmy would go up alone, and when he reached the very tip-top, he would look down and shout, "Tommy is a chicken! Tommy is a chicken!"
At this, Tommy would always look very indignant, and sometimes he would even stalk off in a huff. A chicken, indeed! What an insult!
But by bedtime, all would be forgiven, and Timmy would lie awake in bed and whisper secrets across the room to where Tommy slept on a pallet on the floor. And although Tommy couldn't talk the way normal people did, sometimes he would jabber nonsense in response to Timmy's whispers. At least, Daddy Mike said that it was nonsense, but Timmy knew better. After all, Tommy's jabbering sounded just like Mrs. Krunholtz at Sunday Church when she rolled around on the floor and spoke in tongues. And no one ever said that Mrs. Krunholtz was jabbering nonsense.
One November morning while it was still dark, Timmy woke up to the sounds of the kitchen door banging shut and Daddy Mike's boots clomping into the barnyard. Timmy was surprised. Daddy Mike got up early every morning to milk Maybelle, but never this early. Timmy didn't know what to make of it.
"Come on, Tommy!" Timmy cried, throwing off his blankets and grabbing his pint-sized coveralls from the bedpost. "Let's go see what Daddy Mike's doing! Maybe we can help!"
Tommy jabbered in agreement, and together they hurried downstairs, almost tumbling over one another in their excitement.
When they reached the kitchen, they found that Mama Jane was up and about, too. She was putting a big pot of water on the stove.
"Oh good," Mama Jane said when she saw Timmy and Tommy. "I'm glad you two are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed! There's a lot to do today!"
"Why?" Timmy asked. "What's today?"
"Well, my goodness, child!" Mama Jane said. "It's Thanksgiving! Now, run out and help Daddy Mike. The sun's coming up, and my whole family will be here before you can say Jack Robinson – so hop to it!"
Timmy and Tommy hopped outside, and then Timmy saw Daddy Mike, along with Buster and Scotty the Farm Dogs, standing in the barnyard beside the old oak stump that Timmy and Tommy used as the deck of their battleship. So Timmy dashed out to the stump with Tommy hurrying close behind.
"Why, there you are!" Daddy Mike exclaimed when he saw Timmy and Tommy. "I thought you were going to sleep the day away!" And with that, he grabbed Tommy by the feet and slammed him onto the stump.
"Daddy Mike!" Timmy cried. "Is Tommy in trouble?"
"In a manner of speaking," Daddy Mike said. Then he picked up a hatchet that had been hidden on the far side of the stump, and with one quick stroke, he chopped off Tommy's head. Tommy's head flew away and tumbled to the dirt, and Tommy's blood spurted from his neck onto Daddy Mike's hand.
Then Buster and Scotty the Farm Dogs began making quite a ruckus. They were fighting over Tommy's head.
"Timmy, take Tommy's head and put it in the trash barrel down by the barn," said Daddy Mike. "If Buster or Scotty got hold of it, they could start choking, and then I'd have to get the gun."
So Timmy picked up Tommy's head and went down to the barn with Buster and Scotty nipping at his heels.
"Tommy?" Timmy said to Tommy's head. "What did you do to get in trouble?"
But Tommy's head didn't even jabber. It just gazed up at Timmy with one glassy black eye.
"Timmy!" Daddy Mike cried then. "Come look at this!"
Daddy Mike sounded excited, so Timmy dropped Tommy's head into the trash barrel and ran back to the old oak stump as fast as he could. When he got there, he saw Tommy staggering toward the house, leaving a squiggly trail of blood behind him. Before long, though, Tommy flopped over and lay there twitching.
"Did you ever see the like?" Daddy Mike
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