goosey-gander. "I shall not leave you until I put you down on your own
doorstep."

The boy thought it might be just as well for him if he escaped showing
himself before his parents for a while. He was not disinclined to favour
the scheme, and was just on the point of saying that he agreed to
it--when they heard a loud rumbling behind them. It was the wild geese
who had come up from the lake--all at one time--and stood shaking the
water from their backs. After that they arranged themselves in a long
row--with the leader-goose in the centre--and came toward them.

As the white goosey-gander sized up the wild geese, he felt ill at ease.
He had expected that they should be more like tame geese, and that he
should feel a closer kinship with them. They were much smaller than he,
and none of them were white. They were all gray with a sprinkling of
brown. He was almost afraid of their eyes. They were yellow, and shone
as if a fire had been kindled back of them. The goosey-gander had always
been taught that it was most fitting to move slowly and with a rolling
motion, but these creatures did not walk--they half ran. He grew most
alarmed, however, when he looked at their feet. These were large, and
the soles were torn and ragged-looking. It was evident that the wild
geese never questioned what they tramped upon. They took no by-paths.
They were very neat and well cared for in other respects, but one could
see by their feet that they were poor wilderness-folk.

The goosey-gander only had time to whisper to the boy: "Speak up quickly
for yourself, but don't tell them who you are!"--before the geese were
upon them.

When the wild geese had stopped in front of them, they curtsied with