The Gray Gooses Story | Page 4

Gray Goose said in a
tone of satisfaction, and it seemed only natural that your Aunt Amy
should ask for an explanation.
"Mr. Crow is a good deal like Mr. Fox," Mrs. Goose said in reply. "He
thinks he's the wisest bird in this neighborhood, and that he can do
whatever he pleases, just because he makes poetry. Now this is one of
Mamma Speckle's stories, and although she does dearly love to talk
about other people, I have no doubt but it is true.
[Illustration: Mr. Crow picked up the best looking apples and dropped
them in the pitcher.]
"It seems that last fall, when the apples on the tree that stands near the
well were ripening, Mr. Crow made up his mind that the best thing he
could do would be to lay in a supply for the winter, as Mr. Bunny
Rabbit and Mr. Frisky Squirrel were doing. He went over to the well
early in the morning, before Mr. Man was out of bed, and saw the

squirrels and rabbits carrying away one at a time.
"'That's no way to do your harvesting,' he said, as if he knew just how
everything should be done. 'Before you've taken two apples to your nest
Mr. Man will be out here, and pick up all that are on the ground.'
"'More will fall to-night, and to-morrow morning we can get another
lot,' Mr. Bunny Rabbit said, as he hopped off with a juicy apple in his
mouth, and Mr. Frisky Squirrel added with a laugh:
"'It's better to make sure of two, than run the chances of not getting
any.'
"'Watch me, and you'll see how to do the work in proper shape,' Mr.
Crow said as if there was no one in all the world as wise as he.
"One of the children had left a pitcher on the ground near the well, and
Mr. Crow hopped around wonderfully lively, picking up the best
looking apples and dropping them into the pitcher.
"'Why are you doing that?' Mr. Squirrel asked.
"I'm going to pick up all the best apples, and put them in this pitcher.
Then I can come back at any time, when Mr. Man's family are not
around, and carry them off. That will be much better than waiting a
whole night just for two.'
"Well, Mr. Crow kept on picking up apples and dropping them in the
pitcher as fast as ever he could, while Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Squirrel were
well satisfied at getting safely off with two or three, and when Mr. Man
came out to the well, the pitcher was almost full of the best looking
apples, while Mr. Crow was all tired out with working so fast.
"'Hello!" Mr. Man said as he spied the pitcher of apples, and of course
Mr. Crow had hidden himself when he saw the farmer coming. "Some
of my family have been busy this morning, and I thought I was the first
one out of doors. This will save me a lot of work,' and he carried the
pitcher into the house.
"'I'm almost afraid I was too greedy,' Mr. Crow said with a flirt of his
tail as Mr. Man walked away. 'Perhaps it would have been wiser if I
had been content to carry away a few at a time, as Mr. Rabbit and Mr.
Squirrel did,' and away he flew to the oak tree without so much as a
taste of apple after picking up so many."

THE SECOND TRAGEDY IN THE FROG FAMILY.
[Illustration: Old Mr. Frog's Grandson.]

"There goes that dandified young Frog again, and this time I believe it
is my duty to teach him that the wisest course any one can pursue, is to
stay at home and attend to his own business, rather than roaming
around to show his good clothes," Mr. Gander said, starting off as
rapidly as his short legs would carry him, and, looking up, your Aunt
Amy saw young Mr. Frog, dressed in his best, just coming out of his
house.
"Well, did you ever?" Mrs. Goose exclaimed as Mr. Gander hurried
away in pursuit of the frog. "Wouldn't it be strange if Mr. Gander
caught him?"
"Why would it be strange?" your Aunt Amy asked, knowing full well
that geese often ate frogs, and Mrs. Goose replied:
"It would be at least odd, because it was his own grandfather who was
swallowed up by the lily-white duck, just after the cat and her kittens
came tumbling into Mrs. Mouse's hall, although Mr. Crow says, in
some poetry I've got of his, that one animal is always like others of his
kind. If old Mr. Frog went down the throat of a duck, I don't know why
his grandson shouldn't feel proud of