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Updated: June 11, 2025
“I guess I won’t forget it again in a hurry,” thought Bully as he hopped along with his books in a strap over his shoulder. “C-a-t spells—” And just then he heard a funny noise in the bushes, and he stopped short, as Grandfather Goosey Gander’s clock did, when Jimmy Wibblewobble poured molasses in it.
Uncle Wiggily made his airship go faster, and then he saw, coming toward him, a big bird, with large wings. "Why, that looks just like my old friend, Grandfather Goosey Gander," Uncle Wiggily thought to himself. "I wonder why he is flying so high? He hardly ever goes up so near the clouds.
Then he reached up with his long nose, and he picked a bushel of red, ripe, sweet delicious cherries in less than a minute. Then he pulled down Uncle Wiggily's valise out of the tree and then the old gentleman rabbit made three cherry pies. One for Grandfather Goosey Gander, and another, a tremendous big one, as large as a washtub, for the elephant, and a little one for himself.
He was leaning over the bed, but Kate drew away from him, and Nancy pulled him back, saying, "Get off with you, you goosey gander! What for should you bother a poor girl to know if sugar's sweet, and if she's willing to change a sweetheart for a husband?" It was done. One act nay, half an act; a word nay, no word at all, but only silence. The daring venture was afoot.
When Marie Hawthorn stepped from the train at the North Station she greeted Billy with affectionate warmth, though at once her blue eyes swept the space beyond expectantly and eagerly. Billy's lips curved in a mischievous smile. "No, he didn't come," she said. "He didn't want to a little bit." Marie grew actually pale. "Didn't want to!" she stammered. Billy gave her a spasmodic hug. "Goosey!
That old 'orse has got to take the washin' round when he gets back to Cuckmere this evenin'." Goosey Gander was harnessed now. Old Mat made slowly toward the buggy. The crowd, which had been popping off its feu-de-joie of jokes, steadied into silence to watch the old man climb to his seat. "Someone to see you, Mr. Woodburn," came a voice in the silence.
Uncle Wiggily rode in his airship, made of a clothes-basket, with toy circus balloons on top, and Mother Goose rode on the back of a big gander, who was a brother to Grandfather Goosey Gander. Soon they were at the hen coop where Higgledee Piggledee lived. "Oh, Uncle Wiggily, I am so glad you came!" cackled the black hen. "Did Mother Goose tell you about the egg trouble?"
No, it was Grandfather Goosey Gander, and there he sat on a flat stone, "honk-honking" through his yellow bill as hard as he could, and, at the same time crying salty tears that ran down his nose, making it all wet. "Why, whatever is the matter?" asked Uncle Wiggily, as he went up to his friend, the duck-drake gentleman. "Have you stepped on a tack, too?" "No, it isn't that," was the answer.
"Besides," Bessie rather inconsequently ran on, "I am very fond of Lady Latimer; she has nobody of her own, so she tries to make a family in the world at large." "All right, Bessie then she shall adopt you. Only don't be cross, little goosey. Let us go into the garden."
Oh, Elsie, Elsie, I love you so I love you so!" "Get up, Tom; you are a foolish old goosey!" Tom started to his feet; those playful words were a cruel waking. He stood before her painfully white, and there was a suppressed sob in his voice as he cried, in passionate reproach: "Oh, Elsie! Elsie!" She gave a wicked laugh at his distress. "So you really were in earnest?" she demanded.
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