The Wonderful Bed | Page 9

curls. I'm not a nasty bird--I'm a little girl with hair!"
"She doesn't want to be plucked!" exclaimed the Gray Goose who had
returned to the stove to stir the contents of the iron pot. "Well, now, did
you ever! Maybe it goes in her family. I had a great-aunt once on my
father's side who--"
"They're feathers, all right," chuckled Squawker. "You're a perfect little
duck, that's what I think."
"Me, too," chimed in Squealer.
The Gentleman Goose reached over the Lady Goose's shoulder,
snatched the spectacles off her nose without so much as by your leave,
set them crookedly on his own, and looked over them long and
earnestly at Ann. "So you want to call 'em hair, do you?" he snapped. "I
suppose you think you belong in a hair mattress!"
Ann was ready to cry, and Rudolf had drawn his sword with the
intention of doing his best to protect her, when at that moment a new
voice was heard. Looking in at the little window over the top of the red
geranium the children saw a good-humored furry face with long bristly
whiskers and bright twinkly eyes.
"Anybody mention my name?" said the voice, and a large Belgian Hare
leaped lightly into the room. He was handsomely dressed in a light

overcoat and checked trousers, and wore gaiters over his patent-leather
boots. He had a thick gold watch-chain, gold studs and cuff buttons
besides other jewelry, and in one hand he carried a high hat, in the
other a small dress-suit case and a tightly rolled umbrella.
"What's the matter here?" he inquired cheerfully.
"Why, this bird," explained the Gentleman Goose, pointing his claw
disdainfully at Ann, "says it has no feathers, which you can see for
yourself is not the case. It has feathers, therefore it is a bird. Birds of a
feather flock together. That settles it, I think! Come along, boys. To
work!"
At his command the two duck apprentices, who were standing one on
either side of Ann, made feeble dashes at the two long curls nearest
them. Rudolf stepped forward but the Hare was before him. He only
needed to stare at the two ducks through a single eye-glass he had
screwed into one of his eyes to make them turn pale and drop their
claws to their sides.
"Now once more," said the Hare to Ann. "What did you say you call
those unpleasantly long whiskers of yours?"
"Hair," Ann answered meekly, for she was too frightened to be
offended.
"Hair!" echoed Rudolf and Peter loudly.
"Bless me," said their new friend, "that's not at all my business, is it?
Not at all in my line--oh, no!" He gathered up his hat, dress-suit case,
and little umbrella from the floor where he had dropped them. "Be sure
you don't follow me," he said, nodding pleasantly and winking at the
children. Then he stepped to the door without so much as a look at the
Gentleman Goose who called out angrily:
"Stop, stop! Catch 'em, Squealer--at 'em, Squawker--hold 'em, boys!"
It was too late. The boys were too much afraid of the Hare to do more

than flutter and squawk a little, and as the Gentleman Goose did not
seem inclined to make an attack single-handed, the Hare, with the
children behind him, got to the door in safety. Peter, however, had to be
dragged along by Ann and Rudolf, for the Lady Goose had just
removed the great pot from the stove in time to prevent its contents
from boiling over, and the little boy was sniffing hungrily at the steam.
Now she came after the children carrying a large spoonful of the
bubbling stuff. "All done, all done," she cried. "Don't go without a taste,
dears."
"What's done?" asked Peter, eagerly turning back to her.
"Worms, dear; red ones and brown ones," answered the Lady
Goose,--"boiled in vinegar, you know--just like mother used to
make--with a wee bit of a grasshopper here and there for flavoring.
Mother had the recipe handed down in her family--her side--you know,
from my great-great-grandmother's half-sister who was a De l'Oie but
married a Mr. Gans and was potted in the year--"
They got Peter through the door by main force, Ann and Rudolf
pushing behind and the Hare pulling in front. Even then, I am ashamed
to say, Peter kept calling out that he would like "just a taste", and he
didn't see why the Goose's worms wouldn't be just as good as the white
kind cook sent up with cheese on the top!
[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV
THE FALSE HARE
As they hurried away from the Goose's house, the children cast one last
look behind them. There at the window was the Lady Goose waving in

farewell the spoon she had stirred