"No, wait a minute!" said the father. "Look here, first. I have discovered what ailed the horse."
"I believe our luck has turned," said the mother. "Only fancy! the big white goosey-gander that disappeared last spring must have gone off with the wild geese. He has come back to us in company with seven wild geese. They walked straight into the goose pen, and I've shut them all in."
"That's extraordinary," remarked the father. "But best of all is that we don't have to think any more that our boy stole the goosey-gander when he went away."
"You're quite right, father," she said. "But I'm afraid we'll have to kill them to-night. In two days is Morten Gooseday[1] and we must make haste if we expect to get them to market in time."
[Footnote 1: In Sweden the 10th of November is called Morten Gooseday and corresponds to the American Thanksgiving Day.]
"I think it would be outrageous to butcher the goosey-gander, now that he has returned to us with such a large family," protested Holger Nilsson.
"If times were easier we'd let him live; but since we're going to move from here, we can't keep geese. Come along now and help me carry them into the kitchen," urged the mother.
They went out together and in a few moments the boy saw his father coming along with Morten Goosey-Gander and Dunfin—one under each arm. He and his wife went into the cabin.
The goosey-gander cried:
"Thumbietot, come and help me!"—as he always did when in peril—although he was not aware that the boy was at hand.