human
I thought we had you for dinner to-day,
gpt
You did, replied the gobbler coldly,
human
Yes, said Donald,
gpt
And you broke my poor old wishbone with your little sister, didn't you?
human
I did.
gpt
And what did you wish?
human
You mustn't ask me that, replied Donald,
gpt
But it was my wishbone, persisted the gobbler,
human
You have rights, I suppose, and your argument is not without force,
gpt
I am only the ghost, or spirit, of the gobbler you ate to-day, but still I remember how one day last summer you threw a pan of water on me, and alluded to my wattles as a red necktie, and called me 'Old Harvard,' Now, come along!
human
Where?
gpt
To Wishbone Valley, where you will see the spirits of my ancestors eaten by your family.