Chapter 3

"Then Mr. Pig jumped suddenly, pulling the rope out of Mr. Man's hands, and, dashing between his legs, threw him to the ground. Mr. Pig ran right into the field, picked out a nice ripe melon and ate it, while Mr. Man got up, brushed his clothes, and went home."

Mrs. Goose ceased speaking, as if she was at an end of her story-telling, and your Aunt Amy, unwilling to part with her new friend so soon, was trying to think of some word which would provoke such a remark as would give new life to the conversation, when she was really startled by a loud hissing, as if an angry goose was near at hand.

Much to her surprise, she saw that it was Mrs. Gray Goose herself who was making the outcry, as she looked angrily toward the shore of the pond, where could be seen a goose and a gander dressed in clothing of the latest style.

"What do you think of that?" Mrs. Gray Goose cried. "Isn't it really very foolish?"

"Indeed it is," your Aunt Amy replied emphatically. "When birds, animals, or human beings appear dressed in anything likely to attract attention, they show very poor taste, to speak mildly."

"That foolish goose would willingly go hungry in order to get something which would cause the ganders to look at her. Instead of raising feathers and laying eggs, as is her work in this world, she goes rambling all over the neighborhood in some ridiculous fashion, and, I am sorry to say, she finds plenty of ganders who are ready to follow her.

"She'll come to some such end as did young Mr. Rat, before many years have gone by, else I'm very much mistaken. How strange it is that some birds are never contented to do what nature intended should be their duty!"

"I know of a number of human beings who act just as silly," your Aunt Amy replied. "Will you tell me what happened to Mr. Rat of whom you spoke?"

THE DISOBEDIENT RAT.

"Surely I will," Mrs. Gray Goose replied promptly, "for the story is one that teaches a lesson, even if it does come from Mr. Crow. It seems that once upon a time a young Mr. Rat said to his father, speaking as if he knew the ways of the world better than did those who had lived in it many years before he was born:

"Now that I'm of age, I'm going to take a partner, and go into business for myself.'

"'Very well,' his father replied mildly, for he was a wise old Rat. 'I hope you will get an honest partner, and prosper in whatever you undertake.'

"'I suppose you think I am going into business with some common rat,' the young fellow said with a sneer. 'I'm not going to choose my friends from among such people. I intend to take a kitten as a partner, and in such way get into the best society.'

"Old Mr. Rat stroked his whiskers mournfully, as he looked tearfully at his son, and said:

"'Oh my son, my son! Kittens grow to be cats, and cats eat rats; it would be much better for you to stay among your own kind.'

"But the wilful young rat ran off with a flirt of his tail to a dear little, fluffy kitten, who was not much larger than himself, and asked if she would be his partner.

"'I am willing,' little Miss Kitten said. 'What are we to do after we go into business?'

"'Why, when your mother takes you into the pantry to-night to teach you rat-catching, you are to warn me. As soon as your mother has gone out, you must call me with three mews, and I will come.'

"Well, all this was done as young Mr. Rat planned, and when old Mrs. Cat had gone out of the pantry, leaving Miss Kitten alone, young Mr. Rat scampered from his hole. Without paying any attention to his partner, he pulled a big piece of cheese down from the shelf, and began eating it greedily.

"'Where do I come in on this business?' Miss Kitten asked. 'I'm your partner; but I don't like cheese.'

"'Get what you want then,' young Mr. Rat said sharply. 'You can't expect me to hunt around for things that I don't eat. Have anything you please.'

"'My mother once gave me a rat-tail to eat,' Miss Kitten replied thoughtfully. 'I believe I would rather have that than anything else,' and she looked longingly at young Mr. Rat's tail.

"'Oh, no indeed, you can't have that! Perhaps I spoke too sharply about the cheese; but you can't have my tail.'

"'Yes, she can,' growled old Mrs. Cat from the door, where she had been listening. Then she pounced upon young Mr. Rat and ate him, giving the tail to her kitten. There is a good lesson in that story, old Mr. Turtle says."

"So there is, Mrs. Goose, and one needn't look long in order to find it," your Aunt Amy replied, and then she asked that question which had been in her mind ever since the bird began to talk. "Have you ever heard about the Mrs. Goose who laid golden eggs?"

THE TRUE STORY OF THE GOLDEN EGGS.

"Indeed I have," Mrs. Goose replied quickly. "Surely I ought to know all about her, for she was a great-great-grandmother of mine, and if I'm not mistaken, some of our family have her picture which Mr. Ape painted, when he set himself up as an artist. That is another case where discontent, when matters were going on as well as ever could have been expected, brought its punishment."

"How can that be?" your Aunt Amy asked quickly. "The man killed the goose which was bringing in so much gold, and it surely seems as if she received the most severe punishment."

"That would be right if the story, as Mr. Man tells it, was true," Mrs. Goose said sharply; "but it is not, and however it got so twisted I can't for the life of me understand. Now if that goose was my great-great-grandmother, I ought to know all about it, and I do, for I've heard Grandfather White Goose tell it more times than I've got feathers in my left wing.

"Would you like to know how it all really happened? Well, I'll tell you, and remember that I'm the one among all others on this farm who should know the exact truth. She was a gray goose, the one who laid the eggs, and looked very much like me, so grandfather says. The Mr. Man where she lived was very kind, and actually gave her a bedroom in his own house. No matter what she wanted to eat, he bought it for her, and all the eggs she laid he spread out on a kind of desk or table which had been built especially for them.

"Every morning when she had laid the egg, Mr. Man took her into the room where they were all spread out, and let her see him put it safely away.

"Now, so grandfather says, Mrs. Goose was petted so much, and had so many good things to eat, that she began to believe she was something wonderful, and I really suppose she was, being the only bird that ever laid golden eggs. But she got all puffed up with pride, and thought she ought to live without doing any kind of work, so one day while she was watching Mr. Man take care of the eggs, she saw a big knife hanging up, and asked why it was kept there.

"'I did have it to kill geese with; but now, since you're the only goose I want, it isn't used.' Mr. Man said, and Mrs. Goose asked:

"'Is it sharp?'

"'Oh dear, yes, just like a razor,' Mr. Man said, still looking at the eggs.

"'Well, do you know I'm tired of doing so much work,' foolish Mrs. Goose said, 'and I've been thinking that you might fix things so I wouldn't be tied down to this egg-laying every day. Surely _I_ ought to live in comfort.'

"'That is what I intend you shall be able to do,' Mr. Man answered, for he wanted to keep her contented. 'Is there anything more you need, Mrs. Goose?'

"'I want to live without doing any kind of work,' Mrs. Goose said, as if she was the most abused bird in the world.

"'But then how could we get these beautiful eggs?' Mr. Man cried. 'Surely you take as much pleasure in them as I do!

"'All that may be; but it is a great exertion to lay one every day, and no sooner is the work finished than I think of the same task to be done on the morrow, until I'm on the verge of nervous prostration,' and Mrs. Goose waddled up and down the room as if she was a living skeleton, instead of the fattest bird that ever walked.

"'But what can I do, my dear creature?' Mr. Man cried in real distress, for he was afraid she might refuse to lay any more golden eggs, and that would have nearly broken his heart.

"'Why not take that knife and cut through my feathers till you find an egg. I am quite fat on my stomach, and it wouldn't do me the least little bit of harm. Then all I'd have to do would be to come in here, and let you take the egg out.'

"Well, Mr. Man said everything he could think of to persuade the foolish goose that it was best to let well enough alone; but she coaxed and scolded, and finally declared flatly that unless he did as she wanted, she'd go out of the egg business entirely.

"Of course, after that, Mr. Man couldn't do any less than what she asked for, and although he used the knife very carefully, Mrs. Goose died before he found a single egg. Now that is the truth of the story, as my grandfather tells it," Mrs. Gray Goose continued, "and there is no question in my mind but that it is as true as the one you have heard so many times."

"It surely seems more reasonable," your Aunt Amy said thoughtfully, "for nobody but a goose could have even dreamed that it would be best to cut a bird open to get at the eggs more quickly."

"That is very true," Mrs. Gray Goose replied; "but you must bear in mind that we who wear feathers are not the only geese in the world. I could point out a good many who would feel insulted if we claimed relationship with them. Mr. Man's boy Johnny makes a bigger goose of himself than I am, many a time, and it's no longer ago than yesterday, when Mr. Fido Dog showed how near he came to being my cousin."

"Tell me the story," your Aunt Amy suggested, and Mrs. Goose began without delay:

THE RACE BETWEEN MR. FIDO AND MR. SHANGHAI.

"For a good many weeks the birds and animals on this farm have been trying to decide whether the two-footed or the four-footed were the swiftest, and last week, while we were talking the matter over, foolish Mr. Fido Dog said, as he swelled his chest way out:

"'It stands to reason that I could beat Mr. Shanghai in a race. I've got four good feet with spring soles, and he has only two poor scratchers that are all bones and claws. Why, I could easily run from here to the pond, take a drink there, and be home again before he got as far as the fence.'

"'My, how big you talk, just because you're allowed to sleep in the house!' Mr. Shanghai said. 'You forget my wings, Mr. Fido. Perhaps they are worth just a little.'

"'Nonsense!' Mr. Fido said, turning up his lip till he showed a fine set of white teeth, and tilting his puggy nose. 'What good are your wings? Why, I heard Mr. Man tell his boy Tommy last night that wings were of no use to chickens, except to fly over the fence with.'

"'Well,' said Mr. Shanghai, scratching his topknot with his left claw, and looking wise, 'you see there are times when it's better to be on one side of the fence than the other.'

"'That's a wise remark, Mr. Shanghai,' Mr. Fido snapped. 'You must have a great head; but what good will it do you in a race to the pond? Come on! I'll show you what can be done. Here's where four feet beats two feet--yes, and wings thrown in, if you want them.'

"'What is the course?' Mr. Shanghai asked.

"'A straight line to the pond. Are you ready?'

"'All ready!' said Mr. Shanghai, and off they went.

"It was a close race to the barn-yard fence. Mr. Shanghai ran hard with his neck stretched out; but Mr. Fido went on easily, laughing to think how easy it would be to win.

"But when he came to the fence Mr. Fido stopped. He couldn't get over, and it took quite a while to creep through. He wiggled and pushed anxiously; but Mr. Shanghai, spreading his big wings, flew over, and was at the pond a full minute before Mr. Fido got on the other side of the fence.

"When he went back Mr. Shanghai couldn't help laughing at Mr. Fido, and saying: 'Now you can see that there are times when it is better to be on one side of a fence than another. You're as much out of place in a race with me, as the gosling was in the stork's nest.'"

WHEN MRS. GOOSE'S BABY WASN'T WELCOME.

"What did he mean by that?" your Aunt Amy asked, and Mrs. Goose really laughed as she replied:

"It was a silly trick Mr. Man's boy Tommy played on Mr. and Mrs. Stork, who had built a nest on the top of the farm-house chimney. I had nine babies, while the Storks only hatched out one, and they were all exactly the same age.

"Tommy Boy, who never has work enough to keep him out of mischief, thought it would be very funny to put one of my babies in the Storks' nest, and leave their little one with me, so he got a ladder, and came very near breaking his bones in order to make the change while Mrs. Stork was away looking for food.

"When she came back, there was my dear little gosling sitting up on his tail as if he expected to have his picture taken, trying to tell what Tommy had done.

"Of course Mrs. Stork couldn't understand a word my dear little gosling said, because he didn't talk plain owing to having no teeth, and she sent in a hurry for her husband to come and find out what had happened to their baby.

"I got so nervous while the Storks were trying to decide whether to kill my poor little gosling by pecking him, or throwing him out of the nest, that I nearly had a fit, and suppose I must have made a terrible noise, for Mr. Man came running up to learn what the matter was. It didn't take him many minutes to understand it all, when Johnny was forced to undo the mischief, and take a sound whipping afterward, much to my delight and satisfaction."

At this moment Mr. Gander came into view, evidently very much excited, and said something which your Aunt Amy could not understand.

"I must go over to the oak tree, and you had better come too," Mrs. Gray Goose said hurriedly. "Mr. Crow has just made up some new poetry, and is going to read it. Can't you go with me?"

Your Aunt Amy was not in the mood for hearing any more of Mr. Crow's verses, after Mrs. Goose had recited so many, and she went slowly homeward, while Mrs. Gray Goose followed Mr. Gander, hissing complaints as she waddled along, because he had not invited her to have a portion of the frog he swallowed whole.

THE END.