Grandfather Goosey-Gander jumped up in the air. He uttered a loud quack, and then he took off his tall hat. He looked at the two ragged holes in it, and then he looked over at the boys in the field. He knew right away they had done it, but he didn't know which one. Jimmie, however, was a good boy, and he wasn't going to have any one else blamed for what he had done. So he ran to where his grandfather stood, sorrowfully looking at his hat, and Jimmie said:
"I did it, grandpa. I cannot tell a story. I did it with my little stone."
"Ha! Hum! Did you; eh?" cried Grandfather Goosey-Gander. "Well, that's a pretty bad thing to do, Jimmie. This is my best hat. I put it on to go down to the bank, to put money in. I mean to put money in the bank, not in the hat, of course. I always wear it when I go to the bank, so folks will know I am rich. Now I can't wear it any more. It's too bad!" And the old gentleman duck looked very sorrowful.
"Yes," agreed Jimmie, "it is too bad," for he couldn't think of anything else to say.
"You will have to pay for a new hat for me," went on his grandfather.
"I haven't any money," said Jimmie, and tears began to run down his broad, yellow bill, for the little boy duck felt pretty bad, I can tell you.
"You will have to save up all the pennies you get," decided Grandfather Goosey-Gander. "Boys should not be so careless."
"We thought you were a fox," said Billie Bushytail.
"And we all threw stones at you," added Sammie Littletail.
"But I'm the only one who hit your hat, though," admitted Jimmie.