I looked down into the irregular grass, and saw the head and a very long neck running along on the ground, propelled by the dark body, like a snake running away from a ball.  It was coming toward me, and faster and faster as it approached.

I dropped all my bundles.

In a few flying leaps I returned to the road again, and armed myself with a stick from a pile of cord-wood.

“Honk! honk! honk!”

It was a call of triumph.  The head was high in the air now.  My enemy moved grandly forward, as became the monarch of the great meadow farm-yard.

I stood with beating heart, after my retreat.

It was Aunt Targood’s gander.

How he enjoyed his triumph, and how small and cowardly he made me feel!

“Honk! honk! honk!”

The geese came out of the lilac bushes, bowing their heads to him in admiration.  Then came the goslings—­a long procession of awkward, half-feathered things:  they appeared equally delighted.

The gander seemed to be telling his admiring audience all about it:  how a strange girl with many bundles had attempted to cross the yard; how he had driven her back, and had captured her bundles, and now was monarch of the field.  He clapped his wings when he had finished his heroic story, and sent forth such a “honk!” as might have startled a major-general.

Then he, with an air of great dignity and coolness, began to examine my baggage.

Among my effects were several pounds of chocolate caramels, done up in brown paper.  Aunt Targood liked caramels, and I had brought her a large supply.

He tore off the wrappers quickly.  Bit one.  It was good.  He began to distribute the bon-bons among the geese, and they, with much liberality and good-will, among the goslings.

This was too much.  I ventured through the gate swinging my cord-wood stick.

“Shoo!”

He dropped his head on the ground, and drove it down the walk in a lively waddle toward me.

“Shoo!”

It was Aunt Targood’s voice at the door.

He stopped immediately.

His head was in the air again.

“Shoo!”

Out came Aunt Targood with her broom.

She always corrected the gander with her broom.  If I were to be whipped
I should choose a broom—­not the stick.

As soon as he beheld the broom he retired, although with much offended pride and dignity, to the lilac bushes; and the geese and goslings followed him.

“Hester, you dear child, come here.  I was expecting you, and had been looking out for you, but missed sight of you.  I had forgotten all about the gander.”

We gathered up the bundles and the caramels.  I was light-hearted again.

How cool was the sitting-room, with the woodbine falling about the open windows!  Aunt brought me a pitcher of milk and some strawberries; some bread and honey; and a fan.