It is the day before Thanksgiving, and Rastus, who is as black as ink, and without a cent to his name, has promised himself that, come what may, his wife Eliza and his daughter shall eat of a plump turkey the following day. Prowling round the local butchers he watches the stock of birds gradually dwindle without having the opportunity to take one unobserved. At last he becomes desperate, and when old George Green purchases the last bird he sees that his only chance is to take it from him by hook or by crook. Arriving home, Green takes the turkey out in the yard to kill it. While he turns away for a few minutes to sharpen his knife, Rastus puts his hand through a hole in the wooden fence and seizes the bird. The hole is not large enough to pull the bird through, but Rastus tries to do so, with the result that he pulls three of the planks of the fence out, and with his hand through these and still holding on to the turkey like grim death, he bolts for home. Green starts in pursuit, but Rastus soon gets away from him, although he has many a laughable difficulty to overcome, for his stony brain could not see that he could take the turkey in the other hand and drop the three boards. When Thanksgiving Day arrived the following morn, Rastus and his family had a great time over the dinner.