This gosling told his tale with grief,
And the gray goose sobbed in her handkerchief,
And sighed--"Ah, well, we will have to go
And let the neighbors know."

[Illustration]

So down they went to the river's brim,
Where their feathered friends were wont to swim,
And there on the turf so green and deep
The old wolf lay asleep.

He had a grizzly, savage look,
And he snored till the boughs above him shook.
They tiptoed round him--drew quite near,
Yet still he did not hear.

Then, as the mother gazed, to her
It seemed she could see his gaunt side stir--
Stir and squirm, as if under the skin
Were something alive within!

"Go back to the house, quick, dear," she said,
"And fetch me scissors and needle and thread.
I'll open his ugly hairy hide,
And see what is inside."

[Illustration]

She snipped with the scissors a criss-cross slit,