‘That I can, my son, but you are out late.
‘Are you in such a hurry?’
‘Oh, mother, who is in a hurry if not me? These ten years I’ve been dying to taste roast goose, so don’t you see there’s no time to waste.’
The farmer’s wife stared at him with all her eyes.
‘What do they call you?’ says she.
‘Silly Billy,’ says he.
‘Oh, don’t I see.
‘Yes, I see,’ said the woman, laughing to his very face. ‘Listen, my lad! You are big, and strong, and you seem honest. Now Jim, our man, is off on the King’s wars. Will you take his place?’
‘Will you let me taste roast goose?’