THEY cut his tail off short, and that woke him up, as you may suppose, but after that they shoved him into the hopper with the next sack of snow, and ground he would have been had not one of the stones been rather loose. But that gave him a chance. So he slipped through with many a bruise, and came out hobbling and limping, just as his brothers had started off to see a little more of the world.

They were all of them in a high glee at having had the best of the Bear, and —

“Come along,” said Sharpnose. “Let us be off and find the Geese. As we are so fond of them, maybe they will be glad to see us.”

The twelve agreed, but, of course, Redlegs said nothing.

Off they went to the Geese. All day long they trotted; the wind blew its hardest, but they only trotted a little faster, for it blew in their faces, it blew down their backs, it blew them sideways, and then all round; but on they trotted till night drew in, and then all of a sudden they came upon

and there they found Goose Green.

If you could have only seen how old Daddy Gander stared when he first caught sight of the fourteen Foxes, you would never have forgotten it in all the days of your life.

“I say, Fourlegs!” called out Daddy at last in a great fluster, “I say, Fourlegs, where do you come from?”

“From the other end of the world,” replied Sharpnose, “where the wind is buried.”

“Wind is buried,” echoed the twelve in a breath; but Redlegs said not a word.

“What tongue do you speak?” asked the Gander, wishing to try them.

“Goose!” answered thirteen.

And what do you speak, Fourlegs?” inquired Daddy of the eldest.

“I speak Fox,” replied Redlegs.

“Oh! you do, do you? Then we must look after you.” Still, he took them all in, and gave them a good supper, and a nice soft bed each to lie upon.

Now in Goose Green, which is a very large place on the borders of Fourlegs, there were flocks upon flocks of Geese; yet, many as they were, they grew proud of their thirteen Foxes, who spoke such good Goose, while they were not (silly birds!) at all proud of Redlegs. So he, poor fellow, was set to work on the Green, which he had to sweep twice a day with a long birch-broom.

By-and-by Daddy Gander had to fight his old enemies the Ducks, so he went off in a great hurry.

“Fourlegs,” said he to the thirteen, as he was on the point of leaving, “I’ll make you all commodores, that you may not forget to watch over the Geese I am forced to leave behind.”

“All right,” said Sharpnose; “if we are commodores, we may do as we like, so let us make haste, and eat up all the Geese before old Daddy comes back again.”

To work they went, and ate up all the Geese all but one very old one.

But when Daddy Gander had well beaten the Ducks home he came, and behold! not a Goose was left to greet him except the one very old one.

“Come, come,” said he; “no Fourlegs but a Fox could have eaten so many Geese. Commodores, what do you speak?”

“Goose,” replied the thirteen commodores promptly.

“Well, and what do you speak, sweeper?” he said to Redlegs.

“I speak Fox,” answered he.

“Ah! so you told me before. I ought to have looked after you. Captains and generals, blow him with the bellows that blows the wind!”