And well rewarded she was for it,
For there were her goslings--six together--
With scarcely a rumpled feather.

The wolf had eaten so greedily,
He had swallowed them all alive you see,
So, one by one, they scrambled out,
And danced and skipped about.

Then the gray goose got six heavy stones,
And placed them in between the bones;
She sewed him deftly, with needle and thread,
And then with her goslings fled.

The wolf slept long and hard and late,
And woke so thirsty he scarce could wait.
So he crept along to the river's brink
To get a good cool drink.

But the stones inside began to shake,
And make his old ribs crack and ache;
And the gladsome flock, as they sped away,
Could hear him groan, and say:--

"What's this rumbling and tumbling?
What's this rattling like bones?
I thought I'd eaten six small geese,
But they've turned out only stones."

He bent his neck to lap--instead,