but past, and the world outside would 

 become a place of little intercourse with 

 the hen-yard, and far less freedom gen- 

 erally — to be ventured upon only under 

 the protection, tyrannical if necessary, 

 of mittens and mufflers, unpleasant rub- 

 bers, and tightly buttoned coats. Yet the 

 present day was still like summer, and 

 to the children its charm was neither 

 marred nor enhanced by the anticipation 

 of a blustering tomorrow. 



It was much like the day that the 

 goose went, the farmer reflected. That 

 time had been kept fresh in his memory 

 by his own frequent recounting of it 

 to his only half-credulous neighbors. 

 But what had brought it to his mind at 

 that moment? He struck an attitude of 

 listening, though hardly conscious that 

 a sound had demanded his attention. 

 "Honk, honk!" A long, dense, sharply 

 angling line of bird-life spread high and 

 dark against the sun — a much larger 

 flock than that opposite-moving March 

 caravan had been. When almost directly 

 overhead, a number were seen to sepa- 

 rate themselves from the others, and to 

 drop slowly toward the earth, one shin- 

 ing white among, he counted carefully, 

 eleven smaller dark ones. 



Hastily bidding the wondering chil- 

 dren to keep perfectly still he hurried to 

 the barn, coming back immediately with 

 a pan of corn and grain. Cautiously he 

 approached the flock which had by now 

 settled upon the grass, the small, dark 

 goslings grouping themselves fearfully 

 about their mother. 



When so near the flock that they 

 seemed on the point of taking alarm and 

 rising again into the air he carefully 



let fall a handful of corn upon the grass. 

 There resulted a rush from the white 

 web-foot as she recognized her old-time 

 delicacies, an imperative "quack" to the 

 goslings who obediently crowded about, 

 and were not slow to scramble for these 

 strange new confections, once they were 

 tasted and found so good. Presently all 

 the kernels were gone, and an eager 

 craning of necks ensued. Then stepping 

 backward the farmer dropped another 

 handful, a few kernels with each back- 

 ward step. And so on, amid much 

 snatching and friendly quarreling among 

 the goslings, and their mother as well, 

 whose appetites had been sharpened by 

 their long flight. Nearer and nearer the 

 farmer came to the enclosure — now 

 netted over the top as well as on the 

 sides. Meanwhile the flapping chain 

 and its outcries faded into the distance 

 until hardly distinguishable. The. farmer 

 was now within the enclosure. The 

 corn fell in a more plentiful shower, and" 

 the brood poured upon it, unconscious 

 that the door had swung upon them and 

 they were prisoners. Then came, with 

 the realization, a wild flapping of wings, 

 as the farmer caught up one of them for 

 close examination. 



But the wire network resisted all their 

 nervous flights, and the white goose 

 quacked in reproval of their unnecessary 

 alarm, for she knew the farmyard corn 

 was better than the pickings of the forn 

 est. Nor was she disturbed, though it 

 was not altogether easy to reassure her 

 wild little brood, when the children 

 danced delightedly about them, without 

 the wire enclosure. 



IsABELLE Howe Fiske. 



ANEMONE 



Yes, fairer than the wild rose sweet, 



Daisy or buttercup I know, 

 Is the wind-flower's petals sweet 



In the wood where'er we go. 

 A very queen of early spring; 



And I will ever think of thee 

 As the fairest of God's flowers 



My lovely, pure Anemone. 



C. H. WOODWAKI). 



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