“I'd get out of the way if I could—” began Bobbie once more.
“Certainly, certainly,” the goose interrupted rudely, “but there's no occasion. Don't you think we've made this trip often enough not to run into things?”
“But you honked,” said Bobbie, as the goose flapped his great wing within a feather's breadth of the bubble.
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“Why have a danger signal if you don't use it?” answered the goose, craning his head back over his wing; and in a moment nearly the whole flock had skimmed past and were honking away again, though there was nothing in the sky that Bobbie could see.
“What are they honking at now?” he cried to an old goose, straggling behind.
“That rooster on the weather vane,” said the goose. “It'd better look out. It's only two miles off.” And he went honking on after the others.