Текст книги "Snoutie and His Friends"

CHAPTER TWO,

IN WHICH SNOUTIE VISITS FRIENDS, GOOSE BECOMES A CEREMONIAL GIFT, AND MICHELLE HOSTS A CELEBRATION

One day, late in the morning (for some reason our hero’s mornings always started late) and after a filling breakfast, Snoutie was walking around his room trying to catch spots of sunlight. Then he grabbed his wicker basket for collecting grapes and happily set out for the garden. He was in a wonderful mood, and it was at such times that he did a very good job writing short, simple songs, which he loved to hum under his breath. At that moment he was whistling one of those tunes:

I love to water the ground,

I love to write a round,

I love to store up goods,

I love to walk in the woods,

But what I love most of all

Is a breakfast that is not too small!

Before Snoutie could finish his song, he heard someone ring the bell at the gate.

“Who could that be?” thought Snoutie, heading to the fence. “It is Tuesday, and people don’t usually come calling on Tuesday mornings.”

“Tele-ga-ga-ga-gram!” honked a voice from the other side of the fence.

“Well, what do you know? It’s Goose, our postman,” said Snoutie, who recognized that voice right away. He opened the gate.

“A telegram for me?” he asked happily, setting the basket full of grapes on the grass. “Good day, Goose! Come in, please,” said Snoutie, but then he felt worried and thought that something might be wrong. After all, it wasn’t that often that he received a telegram.

“Yes, well, I mean no. It’s not exactly a telegram,” answered Goose importantly.

“What do you mean?” asked Snoutie, wiggling his snunk in confusion.

“It’s for you, yes, but it’s not a telegram, it’s an invitation. It’s just that the word ‘telegram’ sounds much more important,” explained Goose.

Here it should be noted that Goose was not just a postman, but a very important postman. He loved Serious Words, Important Words, and Unusual Words (or at least words that seemed that way to him). And when he pronounced them, he felt like an Educated Goose and a Scholarly Goose.

“Look, Goose,” said Snoutie, shaking his snunk. “This invitation was sent only yesterday and I have already received it today! It’s a miracle!”

“It’s called ga-ga-ga-lobalization,” pronounced Goose importantly. “Or, rather, glo-ba-li-za-tion!” he honked as if he were a professor, and he raised his right wing, pointing somewhere up into the sky, perhaps at his fellow geese flying overhead.

Snoutie looked respectfully at Goose and then at the other geese. He understood absolutely nothing, but he didn’t want to ask what the word “globalization” meant; he did not want to show that he didn’t know the meaning of such an Important Word, and he also didn’t want to offend Goose, even by accident.

Everyone knew that Goose was a very sensitive creature, and that even cloudy weather put him in a sad mood. At such moments he would pick up a large, white quill pen (which, as you might guess, was not hard for him to do) and start working on his Goosey Ode. For some reason, though, this Ode never moved beyond the same first line:

“Ga-ga, ga-ga-ga, ga-ga-ga, ga-ga-ga,” Goose would honk dreamily, looking off into the distance.

And he usually never got any further than that. But this didn’t bother Goose in the least. On the contrary, this exercise allowed him to think of himself not only as an Educated Goose and a Scholarly Goose, but also as a Creative Goose and a Poetic Goose.

Nevertheless, Goose still wanted very much to complete his Ode and read it around a table at the Big Forest’s famous restaurant Chez Royal Chef Rabbit. He imagined his friends gathering for this solemn occasion to enjoy the Ode’s poetic contents and flowery language, as well as its elegant, goosey style.

Snoutie turned the invitation over in his hands and then, embarrassed, handed it to Goose. You see, even though Snoutie had learned how to read a long time before, he preferred it when his Mama and Papa read aloud to him while he studied the pictures in the books. But since he wasn’t a little Snoutie anymore, he really didn’t want to admit that he didn’t like to read on his own.

“The sun is shining so brightly today,” he mumbled, “that I can’t even make out the letters. I’ve spent the whole day catching spots of sunlight, and now all I can see are spots before my eyes.”

“Michelle is inviting you over for lunch today,” announced Goose solemnly, as he read over the invitation slowly. He was pleased to have the chance to show off his literary abilities.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” squealed Snoutie happily. “It will be very nice to see Michelle again. And if I remember correctly, Michelle’s mother makes a very delicious and sweet-smelling sorrel soup. I hope they serve it today, along with my favorite fried corn fritters and cheese!”

Snoutie closed his eyes, and his cheeks flushed pink. He stroked his round tummy and got so wound up in his thoughts about lunch that he didn’t even realize he had begun singing one of his very own songs:

How nice it is to eat to my fill:

To gobble up sweet ears of corn right off the grill!

I love to stuff my tummy until my pants are tight,

And then wish everyone a pleasant good night.

“Snoutie, have you decided what gift you will take with you?” interrupted Goose. “I’m ga-ga-ga-guessing you know that you can’t go over to someone’s house empty-handed.”

Snoutie was a little confused, but he nodded in agreement anyway.

“My Suit for Special Occasions is always ready, but I haven’t had the chance to think about a gift yet.”

“The most important thing is that the gift be wrapped in a wide, brightly-colored ribbon,” continued Goose importantly. “I can help you with that if you want.”

“Thank you, Goose,” said Snoutie, a little confused. “That’s very kind of you, but I still have no idea what my gift will be.”

Then Snoutie ran to get his Suit for Special Occasions from his closet.

“Oh, I hope I won’t be late for lunch,” worried Snoutie, looking at the watch his parents gave him for his Fifth Birthday. Since Snoutie loved lunchtime very much, his watch always showed either Almost Lunch Time or Exactly Lunch Time. “I think it’s almost time for me to get ready and go. But what gift should I take with me?” he said out loud, looking especially closely at his morning guest, who was quickly flipping through the letters in his bag.

“Goose! Goose!” Snoutie cried happily, understanding that he had just had an excellent idea. “Let’s go to Michelle’s house together!”

“I would, of course, with pleasure, but you, my friend, were the only one who was invited,” answered Goose in surprise.

“And I will be the only one visiting! You will be the very Gift that I will be taking with me. And what’s more, I have a beautiful, red silk ribbon that will go quite nicely with your white feathers.” Without waiting for a reply, Snoutie started digging messily around in a drawer for the ribbon.

“Apparently,” said Goose, after thinking it over for a while, “no one really cares what my position is on this issue, even though they perhaps should, especially considering what an Educated and Scholarly Goose I am,” he added, throwing an Instructive Glance at Snoutie. “However, I believe that such an Important Goose and such a Creative and Poetic Goose as I should have no problem serving as a Very Ceremonial Gift. Especially if it helps solve a complicated situation.” Here he fluffed out his feathers importantly, acknowledging his own Goosey Significance.

But Snoutie was so taken with his excellent idea, and he was in such a hurry to get to Michelle’s house by lunchtime, that he didn’t even hear the last words pronounced by the Very Ceremonial Gift. Two minutes later, Goose was looking admiringly in the mirror at the red bow around his neck. He backed away from the mirror and then walked close up to it again, tilting his head this way and that, and sticking his neck w-a-a-a-y out. He just could not get enough of himself.

“How ga-ga-ga-glamorous!” he finally honked breathlessly. “That means beauty, luxury, and splendor. That means chic,” explained Goose in response to Snoutie’s amazed look.

“Come along! Let’s hurry!” said Snoutie, looking at his watch and waving around a box holding a blancmange cake with raspberries that he had brought home the day before from Chez Royal Chef Rabbit. Snoutie believed that an extra tasty dessert could never hurt, even if the hosts were offering something sweet anyway.

So Snoutie and Goose hurried off to Michelle’s house.

“Listen, Snoutie, do you think Michelle will look at her gifts carefully?” asked Goose suddenly in alarm.

“I don’t know,” said Snoutie, surprised. “Why are you asking?”

“You see, unfortunately, out of politeness many people pretend that they like a gift when they haven’t actually taken a good look at it. Then they forget about it right away and set it off somewhere to the side,” explained Goose, looking sadly at his feet.

“I think Michelle will be very happy with such a Gift,” said Snoutie, trying to cheer up Goose before he got too upset.

“Michelle is without a doubt a very well-mannered young lady,” said Goose, his spirits lifting. “I am sure that she will look very closely at your Gift and will of course be able to see its true value.”

Soon Snoutie was ringing the doorbell at Michelle’s house, and his Very Ceremonial Gift was shifting from foot to foot and importantly fluffing out his feathers.

“It’s nice to see you, Snoutie! Hello, Goose!” said Michelle welcomingly.

“It’s an honor, Mademoiselle!” said Goose, bowing in the old-fashioned manner by taking a step back with one foot, bending his neck, and lifting up his right wing. “A daisy,” he added, handing Michelle a little flower that he had picked along the way and kept under his left wing.

“How lovely!” smiled Michelle, accepting the flower.

“That’s called ga-ga-ga-gallantry!” Goose responded with a bow and importantly took a step back.

“Michelle, Michelle, this is my gift for you,” remembered Snoutie, pointing to the wide, red ribbon tied around Goose.

The well-mannered young lady clearly saw the true value of her Gift.

Then Snoutie began to get worried, because he felt like Almost Lunch Time had passed and that Exactly Lunch Time had arrived a couple of minutes before, which meant that it was time to hurry to the table.

“Please, come sit down,” said Michelle, inviting Snoutie and his Very Ceremonial Gift to the table.

After tying his napkin around his neck and sighing deeply with pleasure, Snoutie started shoveling food into his cheeks. He did a fairly quick job of gobbling up as much as he could of all the food on the table: sorrel soup with fried corn fritters and cheese, green bean pods and eggplant salad, a cranberry fruit drink and grilled sweet potato sprouts, stewed apple quince and cabbage turnovers, strawberries with whipped cream and a chocolate cake with cherries on top, and plum pudding and mint tea. It was clear that the hosts had spent a lot of time preparing for their guests.

“That was a nice little snack,” panted a satisfied Snoutie with difficulty. “And now it’s time to have a proper meal!”

“I think sometimes you eat a little too fast, dear Snoutie,” said Michelle. “Do you think it might be a good idea to slow down a bit?”

“W-e-e-e-l-l-l…” mumbled Snoutie, clearly confused as he squirmed in his chair, “perhaps you’re right, but packing my mouth with food somehow makes it juicier and tastier. Small portions just don’t make me as happy. It’s like I swallow them too quickly and I don’t enjoy them as much.”

He looked around the table, trying to decide what to eat next, and then he started moving his snunk around anxiously because he realized how quickly he had eaten up the appetizers, the first course, the second course, and the dessert while all the others were just starting on their main dishes.

“It wasn’t enough, of course,” thought Snoutie. “I should sample it all again. I wonder if good etiquette says that guests should always leave hungry? I don’t seem to remember anything about that.”

But, since he was a well-mannered Snoutie, he didn’t say any of this out loud.

Finally he decided that he had probably eaten quite enough, and he started swinging his paws under the table and whistling a tune under his breath. It went something like this:

But why, oh why,

I’ll never understand,

However hard I try,

Do all Snouties

So love blancmange,

Blueberry desserts with yogurt…

And creamy meringues.

“Humph! I guess the time right after lunch is not the best time for creative work,” thought Snoutie, not completely satisfied with his song. “Meringue…Blancmange….” These last two words were spoken out loud.

“Oh, Snoutie, your favorite blancmange! How could I have forgotten! And I already have it ready to serve!” said Michelle, who soon returned to the table with the cake.

“Y-e-e-e-s-s-s…blancmange….Ga-ga-ga-gastronomy!” noted Goose, who had clearly just remembered something. “This French dessert has been Snoutie’s favorite treat ever since I told him about it. Ah, France…Paris…Those French geese are something else….”

“Have you been to Paris, Goose?” asked Michelle. “How interesting! Tell us about what life is like there.”

“Yes, yes, I have had the occasion to visit there, and more than once, I might add,” said Goose, waggling his beak importantly. He was entirely satisfied with the attention Michelle was paying to his Goosey Personage, so he started talking about France.

“I must say that our Goosey Family is quite large, and that many of my relatives live there, in France. My cousin Madame Clafoutis ⁽¹⁾ and her husband Monsieur Tarte Tatin ⁽²⁾ have lived for over ten years in a small little house on the outskirts of Paris. They believe that even though the air is not so great there, it is at least cleaner than in Paris. My cousin says that in Paris they immediately lose the desire to live.”

“Clafoutis and Tarte Tatin! Well I never!” giggled Michelle, who knew French very well. “Those are things I know quite well! But I’m sorry, I interrupted you, dear Goose, please tell us more,” she said, continuing to laugh.

“What do they eat for lunch?” asked Snoutie.

“My relatives love to peck at different cheeses with the most unbearably sharp smells! Whenever I sat at their table, I had to hold my beak,” frowned Goose. “And then my cousin Monsieur Profiterole ⁽³⁾ often stops by for lunch…”

When Michelle heard about the cousin named Profiterole, she started laughing so hard that she almost fell off her chair.

“Yes, so,” continued Goose, “my cousin Profiterole, who studied very hard to become a fashionable coiffeur ⁽⁴⁾—that’s a hair stylist, by the way—is quite a strange creature. He always wears the same scarf, which was probably once red. But now it’s impossible to tell what the original color was, and it bears a greater resemblance to a wrinkled rag than to a scarf. He wraps this scarf carelessly around his neck and says that this is all the fashion in Paris. He uses it to wipe his wet beak and clean his dusty feet, and he even sneezes into it! Then he always says something like ‘charmant ⁽⁵⁾’ or ‘magnifique ⁽⁶⁾!’”

Goose became so carried away with his memories about his French relatives that he flew up onto the back of his chair, flapped his wings excitedly, and continued his story from his perch.

“My cousin—and he’s a hair stylist, mind you! – declares that washing feathers does them nothing but harm. He recommends only fluffing. It’s simply terrible!” said Goose, adding his own commentary. “It’s no surprise that they all have fleas. But this doesn’t seem to bother the French geese at all. Every fall in France they hang notices everywhere about the next flea invasion! ⁽⁷⁾”

“Fleas?” asked Snoutie, surprised. “In this day and age?”

Michelle just puffed with indignation.

“It’s absolutely true! It’s like that with everything: instead of washing the floors, which they think will only spoil the parquet, they polish them by putting wool socks on their feet and sliding across the unwashed floor!”

“Dear Goose,” said Michelle, “perhaps over lunch you could tell us about something a little more pleasant?”

“Over lunch…a little more pleasant….” Goose started thinking. “Once I did have a nice lunch with them: I pecked at a beetle crawling over an old chest of drawers. If only you could have heard how they started hissing at me! Apparently what I did was not at all comme il faut ⁽⁸⁾, because for them dusty, old furniture that has been eaten away by beetles is charme ancien ⁽⁹⁾.”

“Goose, weren’t you telling me about a French relative of yours who is coming to visit soon?” asked Snoutie.

“Yes, yes, I was – my unbearable little nephew Julienne ⁽¹⁰⁾,” answered Goose. “Unfortunately, he didn’t inherit anything good from his parents. For example, he never cleans his beak, saying that he prefers everything à la naturelle ⁽¹¹⁾.”

When it came time to leave, Goose untied his bow.

“This is for you, Michelle, in case you ever need to wrap a gift with a beautiful ribbon. I feel a little badly giving it away: a red bow ga-ga-ga-goes so well with my white feathers.”

And with these words, Goose handed the ribbon to Michelle.

“Oh, no, Goose, I couldn’t. It really does suit your white feathers,” objected Michelle, who understood perfectly well that Goose wanted it for himself. “You keep it.”

“How nice it is to be a guest at someone’s house,” said Snoutie on the way home, stroking his noticeably rounder tummy. “I feel so calm and relaxed right after lunch, even if I still feel slightly hungry when I leave the table.”

“Well I don’t think a feeling like that does anything to help the poetic process,” objected Goose. “Which reminds me: I didn’t even get the chance to work on my Ode today, and I still have to deliver the paper to Madame Partridge! She’s probably tired of waiting.”

Snoutie said goodbye to his Very Ceremonial Gift and bounced happily off down the path between the green hills that led to his house, singing one of his songs as he trotted along.

Notes to Chapter Two

Clafoutis ⁽¹⁾ – from the French; a pie made of fruit or berries (usually cherries)

Tarte tatin ⁽²⁾ – from the French; an upside-down apple pie

Profiterole ⁽³⁾ – from the French; small pastry made from choux dough with a filling

Coiffeur ⁽⁴⁾ – from the French; hair stylist

Charmant ⁽⁵⁾ – from the French; charming, delightful

Magnifique ⁽⁶⁾ – from the French; magnificent

“Flea Invasion!” ⁽⁷⁾ – from the French: Les poux arrivent!; literally: The fleas (or lice) are coming! Flea Invasion!” A sign that can be seen in the windows of French pharmacies, usually at the beginning of every school year.

Comme il faut ⁽⁸⁾ – from the French; literally: as necessary, as proper (following certain fashionable trends)

Charme ancien ⁽⁹⁾ – from the French; literally: charm of old times/things (for example, antique furniture)

Julienne ⁽¹⁰⁾ – from the French; a dish, served either as a hot appetizer in a small pot or as a salad

À la naturelle ⁽¹¹⁾ – from the French; something that has a genuine, natural appearance

CHAPTER THREE,

IN WHICH EVERYONE IS SURPRISED BY SNOUTIE’S DISCOVERY, A PUMPKIN TURNS INTO A LITTLE HOUSE, AND BALLOONS FLY OVER THE FOREST

It was a typical summer morning—the kind of calm, sunny, warm morning that does not promise any sort of adventure whatsoever. Snoutie was swinging on his swings, deep in thought. Butterflies fluttered gaily around the garden, and the fragrance of orange blossom and tea rose hung in the air. Snoutie was looking far off into the distance and wondering what kind of creatures lived beyond the Big Forest, where the sun was always shining and it could get quite hot.

“They are probably nothing like us,” he thought, trying to imagine exactly how they might look. “I wonder what they eat for breakfast. Does sorrel grow there, too? And what about the corn? Is it juicy?” he asked himself.

But here his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar smell that caused his mouth to water. His snunk trembled happily in anticipation of a delicious lunch. Snoutie jumped off the swings and bounced happily into the living room, expecting to find food spread out on the table. But, strangely enough, there was no food to be found. (Snoutie remembered that his parents weren’t even at home.) The pleasant smell had disappeared when Snoutie’s eyes landed on the calendar.

“Oh, of course, it’s Wednesday! Cabbage Day!” remembered Snoutie. “How could I have forgotten?” He sensed that the tasty smell was coming from the direction of the tall hill near the edge of the Forest, which was not very far away. “Royal Chef Rabbit is expecting everyone at his restaurant!” Snoutie looked excitedly at his watch, which was showing Almost Lunch Time, and happily started getting ready to go to the restaurant.

Here it should be mentioned that Royal Chef Rabbit was given this name because he was considered the Best Chef and the Best Pastry Chef not just in the Big Forest, but even in the whole world beyond it. Royal Chef Rabbit was the whitest rabbit in the Big Forest, and he was also the biggest, most important, and fluffiest rabbit, which is another reason why he was called Royal Chef Rabbit. He was also known for his wise approach to all kinds of situations in life. So the creatures of the Big Forest often came to his restaurant not just for a serving of food, but also for a serving of good advice. Rabbit was a cheery creature, and he preferred to wear bright red and orange blazers. They reminded him of the color of a juicy, ripe carrot.

Royal Chef Rabbit’s favorite things to do in life were cook and garden, so he decided to combine these two pleasant hobbies into one by opening the restaurant Chez Royal Chef Rabbit and planting a beautiful garden with large, bright flowers on its roof. And since this restaurant was on the highest hill in the Forest and was always exposed to sunlight, the flowers on his roof bloomed all year long. Rabbit also dug several flower beds around the restaurant and planted them with pastel-colored flowering bushes. Whenever Rabbit had a free minute, which was not very often, he loved to walk around his restaurant, study the flower beds, and gnaw on a freshly-picked carrot.

Wednesday was always Cabbage Day at the restaurant. On that particular Wednesday, the tables were set for lunch, all the dishes were ready, and a satisfied Royal Chef Rabbit sat awaiting his guests. That day’s Cabbage Menu included borscht with fresh cabbage, cauliflower turnovers, sauerkraut with allspice, Chinese cabbage salad and sun-dried tomatoes, vegetarian cabbage rolls with sour cream sauce, parsley, and young garlic, grilled Brussels sprouts with melted cheese, and many others (naturally all containing cabbage).

Snoutie bounced happily along the path to the restaurant, swinging his snunk from side to side and thinking about the delicious meal awaiting him. As he bounced, he wrote this song:

Royal Chef Rabbit

Has a marvelous place to eat.

He serves tasty hors d’oeuvres

And some other nice treats:

A sweet-smelling cherry pie,

Vanilla crème brûlée,

A strawberry dessert with mint,

And raspberry blancmange.

And if one winter day,

You happen to drop in for lunch,

You can be sure that Rabbit will offer you

A mug of nice, hot punch.

Here Snoutie stopped, puzzled. Right in front of him stood a briar bush, and right behind that briar bush lay a large, round, bright-yellow form, which looked very much like an enormous egg. Snoutie walked closer to it, and he saw that it actually was an egg. He stood in place for some time, shifting from paw to paw, scratching his large ears, and glancing now at his Unusual Discovery and now at his watch, which showed Exactly Lunch Time. He didn’t have much time, but he knew that he couldn’t leave his Unusual Discovery in the forest. He started rolling the bright-yellow egg along the path, right up to Chez Royal Chef Rabbit. He was happy and excited, so he started singing a new song:

One fine summer day

I went out for a walk.

I would stop in at Rabbit’s

For some food and a talk.

I bounced along as always,

But lying in a bush,

Was a big enormous egg

That I could barely push!

Maybe I’ll take it to Rabbit,

He’ll know what to do.

He’ll give me some good advice,

As we sit at a table for two.

The creatures of the Big Forest, who had already gathered at the restaurant, discussed Snoutie’s Unusual Find with great interest.

Even though none of them had ever seen such a large, bright-yellow egg before, they all agreed that a chick would hatch from it.

Then Wise Old Owl, who had been listening to this conversation with his eyes closed as he pretended to be asleep, suddenly proposed that this egg, which was as bright as the sun, was probably from a hot country far beyond the edge of the Big Forest.

“My wise grandfather, who visited foreign lands and saw much during his life, told me that there are enormous birds in hot countries, whose chicks hatch from strange eggs like these,” he announced, sipping a cool cranberry drink. “These birds are nothing at all like us forest birds,” he added, and then he closed his eyes again.

“And now,” said Robin the Elder with some sense of importance, because after all he had raised more than one generation of children, “we need to decide how to help this chick hatch. But we forest birds are not able to build a nest of such a large size or keep such a big chick warm. For that it would need a real house.”

“I have an idea!” exclaimed Snoutie, jumping up. “I have an amazing pumpkin of just the right size in my cellar. We’ll turn it into a house for the future chick.”

Burly Boary helped Snoutie move the pumpkin to the sunniest spot in the garden. That very same day, another one of Snoutie’s friends, Hedgie the Valiant, brought over tools for building a house. They cut off the top of the pumpkin so that the sun’s rays could warm the egg all day long, scooped out the insides, and removed the seeds, which Economical Snoutie set aside for planting. They placed a large lamp next to the pumpkin, which Thoughtful Snoutie turned on at night, after the sun set.

This day marked the beginning of a Week of Great Concern.

Most of the conversations in the forest sounded something like this:

“So, what’s the news? How are things going with Snoutie? Has the chick hatched? Should we stop by for a visit? Have you already bought a gift? How is Snoutie feeling? I heard that he is very worried, concerned, and anxious.”

Meanwhile, Worried Snoutie, Concerned Snoutie, and Anxious Snoutie almost never stepped away from his Unusual Discovery, fearing that something would happen in his absence. He even moved his bed into the garden so he could sleep right next to the pumpkin.

Early one Saturday, when a very tired Snoutie was still deep asleep, he dreamed that Woodpecker flew into the garden and started loudly pecking at a tree with his beak. Snoutie woke up and looked around the garden, but he didn’t see anyone. For some strange reason, though, the knocking continued, and it sounded like it was coming from somewhere very close by. What’s more, it was joined by a strange peeping sound. Snoutie looked into the pumpkin and noticed that the egg was now covered with cracks and was shaking slightly. Snoutie also noticed that the strange peeping was coming from inside the egg.

“Good morning!” said Robin the Elder, who had flown in to visit Snoutie. “It looks like we’ll meet our new friend today.”

The news that the chick would hatch that day quickly spread throughout the forest. A grand celebration was arranged for Saturday evening at Snoutie’s house. The guest of honor was indeed unlike any forest bird anyone had ever seen. He was very big—much bigger than the forest chicks the creatures were used to. He had a long neck, very long, strong legs, and, for some reason, very small feathers. This strange little bird was covered in a bright, thick down that was so rough it was almost prickly, and he had black spots. As soon as he hatched from the egg, he looked carefully at everything around, peeped happily, and gave an amazed Snoutie a friendly peck, as if to say “Thank you, dear Snoutie.”

Everyone brought presents for the newborn. The first to arrive was Important Ceremonial Goose, who was wearing a scarlet silk ribbon around his neck.

“A ga-ga-ga-gift!” he honked, handing Snoutie his favorite blancmange cake. “I’m not really sure that chicks should eat this, but in any case it’s a very appropriate gift for a celebration,” he continued importantly and, for some reason, he threw an instructive glance at the chick.

The chick peeped loudly and happily and even winked at Goose.

“I would be pleased to undertake his education, Snoutie, if, of course, you have no objections,” said Goose, looking tenderly at the chick. “I would ga-ga-ga-guess that it is within my goosey abilities to ga-ga-ga-give him a harmonious upbringing.”

Snoutie had no objections.

The next guest to arrive was Housey Mousey. She gave Snoutie the tastiest morsel of cheese that she had stored away for a very special occasion like this one. Next came Beaver the Builder and his little beaver cubs, who were dragging a large basket filled with boiled crawfish. (Beaver believed that raw food was not good for chicks.) Croaky the Feel Good Froggy brought a freshly-caught dragonfly and a water lily, and Burly Boary brought ripe acorns. Snoutie himself picked a basketful of fresh green salad for the chick. The guests watched with great interest as the little one dug into the salad with a happy peep, and they continued to put forth the most incredible ideas about who this chick actually was.

The one to finally put an end to all this guesswork was Wise Old Owl, who was the last to arrive. He gave the little chick a silver spoon, because he believed that little ones should be taught exactly what good taste is from birth. He looked the newborn over carefully and announced importantly:

“It’s just as I thought, my friends. This is the very same bird from the south that I was telling you about at the restaurant. Before you stands a Young Ostrich!”

Time passed and Young Ostrich grew under the watchful eye of Goose, or, rather, under the watchful eye of Instructive Goose, Educating Goose, and Enlightening Goose. In the evenings, Goose would sit his young student down across from him and tell him about far-away countries and the creatures who lived there, oceans and seas, islands and straits, mountains and forests, and prairies and deserts, all the while spinning a large globe with his wing.