on, to keep me from freezing fast. You help me and I'll help you," said
the goosey-gander.

This the boy did. And when he had finished, the goosey-gander picked
him up, once again, by the shirt-band, and tucked him under his wing. "I
think you'll lie snug and warm there," said the goosey-gander as he
covered him with his wing.

The boy was so imbedded in down that he couldn't answer, and he was nice
and comfy. Oh, but he was tired!--And in less than two winks he was fast
asleep.

NIGHT

It is a fact that ice is always treacherous and not to be trusted. In
the middle of the night the loosened ice-cake on Vomb Lake moved about,
until one corner of it touched the shore. Now it happened that Mr.
Smirre Fox, who lived at this time in Övid Cloister Park--on the east
side of the lake--caught a glimpse of that one corner, while he was out
on his night chase. Smirre had seen the wild geese early in the evening,
and hadn't dared to hope that he might get at one of them, but now he
walked right out on the ice.

When Smirre was very near to the geese, his claws scraped the ice, and
the geese awoke, flapped their wings, and prepared for flight. But
Smirre was too quick for them. He darted forward as though he'd been
shot; grabbed a goose by the wing, and ran toward land again.

But this night the wild geese were not alone on the ice, for they had a
human being among them--little as he was. The boy had awakened when the