The Goose

Her rags scarce held together;

There strode a stranger to the door,

      And it was windy weather.

He utter'd rhyme and reason,

"Here, take the goose, and keep you warm,

      It is a stormy season."

A goose—'twas no great matter.

The goose let fall a golden egg

      With cackle and with clatter.

And ran to tell her neighbours;

And bless'd herself, and cursed herself,

      And rested from her labours.

Grew plump and able-bodied;

Until the grave churchwarden doff'd.

      The parson smirk'd and nodded.

She felt her heart grow prouder:

But ah! the more the white goose laid

      It clack'd and cackled louder.

It stirr'd the old wife's mettle:

She shifted in her elbow-chair,

      And hurl'd the pan and kettle.

Then wax'd her anger stronger.

"Go, take the goose, and wring her throat,

      I will not bear it longer."

Ran Gaffer, stumbled Gammer.

The goose flew this way and flew that,

      And fill'd the house with clamour.

They flounder'd all together,

There strode a stranger to the door,

      And it was windy weather:

He utter'd words of scorning;

"So keep you cold, or keep you warm.

      It is a stormy morning."

And round the attics rumbled,

Till all the tables danced again,

      And half the chinmeys tumbled.

The blast was hard and harder,

Her cap blew off, her gown blew up,

      And a whirlwind clear'd the larder;

Her household fled the danger,

Quoth she, "The Devil take the goose,

      And God forget the stranger!"

END OF VOL. I.