"'That is what I intend you shall be able to do,' Mr. Man answered, for he wanted to keep her contented. 'Is there anything more you need, Mrs. Goose?'
"'I want to live without doing any kind of work,' Mrs. Goose said, as if she was the most abused bird in the world.
"'But then how could we get these beautiful eggs?' Mr. Man cried. 'Surely you take as much pleasure in them as I do!
"'All that may be; but it is a great exertion to lay one every day, and no sooner is the work finished than I think of the same task to be done on the morrow, until I'm on the verge of nervous prostration,' and Mrs. Goose waddled up and down the room as if she was a living skeleton, instead of the fattest bird that ever walked.
"'But what can I do, my dear creature?' Mr. Man cried in real distress, for he was afraid she might refuse to lay any more golden eggs, and that would have nearly broken his heart.
"'Why not take that knife and cut through my feathers till you find an egg. I am quite fat on my stomach, and it wouldn't do me the least little bit of harm. Then all I'd have to do would be to come in here, and let you take the egg out.'
"Well, Mr. Man said everything he could think of to persuade the foolish goose that it was best to let well enough alone; but she coaxed and scolded, and finally declared flatly that unless he did as she wanted, she'd go out of the egg business entirely.
"Of course, after that, Mr. Man couldn't do any less than what she asked for, and although he used the knife very carefully, Mrs. Goose died before he found a single egg. Now that is the truth of the story, as my grandfather tells it," Mrs. Gray Goose continued, "and there is no question in my mind but that it is as true as the one you have heard so many times."
"It surely seems more reasonable," your Aunt Amy said thoughtfully, "for nobody but a goose could have even dreamed that it would be best to cut a bird open to get at the eggs more quickly."