212 OLD PLYMOUTH TRAILS 



seven geese, to be exact, that had got so iced up 

 that they had to settle on the top of the hill. 



"The ice had formed on their feathers as they 

 flew and they were so weighted down they 

 couldn't fly and they were getting more and more 

 iced up every minute. Granddad didn't care to 

 go back for his gun for fear some of the other 

 nimrods in the neighborhood would come on the 

 scene and bag the game first, but there wasn't any 

 need of a gun. All he had to 'do was to drive 

 'em home. They were terribly iced up, but their 

 legs were still free and he chased 'em about for 

 some time before he got 'em started down hill. 

 But once over the edge of the hill the weight of 

 ice on 'em turned 'em right over and over, and 

 so they rolled on down. It was a wet snow and 

 as they rolled they took up more and more of it 

 till by the time they came slap up against the 

 side of the barn every single goose was sealed up 

 in the middle of a hard, round snowball. They 

 all stopped there and all that grandfather had 

 to do was to pile them up, and there they were, 

 in cold storage for the winter. Every time the 

 family wanted roast goose they went out and 

 split open a snowball. The folks in granddad's 

 time used often to freeze their fresh meat and 



