The tame geese could not resist the temptation to raise their heads and
listen, but they answered very sensibly: "We're pretty well off where we
are. We're pretty well off where we are."

It was, as we have said, an uncommonly fine day, with an atmosphere that
it must have been a real delight to fly in, so light and bracing. And
with each new wild geese-flock that flew by, the tame geese became more
and more unruly. A couple of times they flapped their wings, as if they
had half a mind to fly along. But then an old mother-goose would always
say to them: "Now don't be silly. Those creatures will have to suffer
both hunger and cold."

There was a young gander whom the wild geese had fired with a passion
for adventure. "If another flock comes this way, I'll follow them," said
he.

Then there came a new flock, who shrieked like the others, and the young
gander answered: "Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I'm coming."

He spread his wings and raised himself into the air; but he was so
unaccustomed to flying, that he fell to the ground again.

At any rate, the wild geese must have heard his call, for they turned
and flew back slowly to see if he was coming.

"Wait, wait!" he cried, and made another attempt to fly.

All this the boy heard, where he lay on the hedge. "It would be a great
pity," thought he, "if the big goosey-gander should go away. It would be