It struck him as somewhat strange that only two of the geese cackled and gabbled as geese are wont to do; the third was silent, except when she heaved a sigh that sounded almost human.
“The creature must be ill,” he said aloud. “I had better cook her quickly before she gets worse.”
Then to his astonishment the goose answered quite plainly—
“Long-Nose, look thee,
If thou cook me,
No good ’twill do,
The deed thou’lt rue.”
Frightened out of his wits, Long-Nose set down the cage, and the goose looked at him with her beautiful wise eyes and sighed.
“There, there,” said the dwarf, “have no fear, I would not harm such a wonderful bird as yourself, for it is not once in a lifetime that one meets a goose that can talk. I wager you have not always worn feathers; I myself have been bewitched, and turned into a squirrel, and I expect it is the same with you.”
“You are right,” said the goose. “Alas! I did not always bear this humble form, and at my birth who would have dared prophecy that Mimi, the daughter of the great magician Wetterbock, would end her days in a Duke’s kitchen.”