Hoffmann.--I have never before heard of this custom of antiquity. It is a pity that so beautiful a practice is become obsolete, or I could, as a musician, make most profitable use of it.
Freisleben:--
Friends beloved! there were finer times once
Than are these times--that must be conceded,--
And a nobler people lived ere we did.
Hoffmann.--But to come back to our story. Herr von Plauen possessed a more admirable dexterity in shooting than any of the schoolboys just referred to could possibly have; and no wonder,--as they were only schoolboys, and he was a student. Plenty of stories are related of him; how he twisted the neck of many a living goose, and popped them under his cloak; how with ladder and hook, he brought many a plucked goose down from the lofty store-room; yes, and how he came most easily at one ready stuffed and roasted.
On Holy St. Nicholas's-day, a worthy citizen of the place, whose little son also was called Nicholas, prepared a feast for some guests, the chief ornament of which was a goose, as fine as ever gabbled and screamed in the Pfalz. The goose was carried up; the guests had not, however, yet made their appearance, but the little son was impatient, and howling and crying desired a slice from the goose. The father strove in vain to quiet him; he howled and cried on. "Then," said the old man, "I will give the goose to the Pelznickel." (In our country there goes from house to house, on St. Nicholas's-day, fellows in disguise, who inquire into the past behaviour of the children, and give to the good ones apples, nuts, and little cakes, but warn the bad and threaten them with the rod. These disguised personages are styled Pelznickel.) With the word the old man set the dish with the goose in it on the outside of the window! This frightened the little one; he promised to be quiet if the father would take the goose in again; whereupon the father reached the dish in again, but to his astounding, the goose was gone! It was already rapidly on its way to the city of Dusseldorf, (a Wirthshaus in Heidelberg), where the Herr von Plauen and his companions found it smack right delectably with their red wine.
A similar passage once befell our hero in the village Schlangenbach, where he was for a long time the guest of the Amtmann. They both, he and the Amtmann, who had himself been a lusty student, made a call on the Frau Pfarrerin, the parson's lady. They talked of this and that; of husbandry, and of poultry and geese. "Ay," said the parson's lady, "I have a goose hanging above; you may match it if you can. But with what care and labour have I fed it myself; and stuffed it myself with the best Indian corn that was to be got. But, gentlemen, you shall judge for yourselves. I invite you next Sunday to discuss this famous goose."
"And yet," said Plauen, "I will wager that the Amtmann has one that is quite as good."
"Impossible!" exclaimed the Frau Pfarrerin.
"Amtmann," rejoined Plauen, "you won't admit that! I challenge you to invite the Frau Pfarrerin and her husband to-morrow, Saturday, also to eat a goose, and we will afterwards see which goose is the best."
"Done!" said the Amtmann.