href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@47428@[email protected]#link2HCH0011" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">CHAPTER XII.

PREFACE

This Tale is rendered, a little freely, from Trente-six Rencontres de Jean du Gogué, in Contes d'un Buveur de Bière, par Charles Deulin. (Sixième Edition. Paris: Dentu. 1873.)

The late M. Deulin told with much humour, and probably with but little alteration from oral tradition, the popular tales of his native province. The narrative here translated has points in common with a Tongan legend, with several ancient French fabliaux, with a Zulu story in Bishop Callaway's collection, and with Grimm's Golden Goose.

TO MISTRESS DOROTHEA THORPE

Original

IKE the Sultan in the Arabian Nights—and, sure, you are no less despotic—you have sometimes commanded me to 'tell you a story.'It has been my privilege to obey; but, alas! when my toil was ended, with a stretch of absolute authority you have bidden me 'tell you another.'Truly, Madam, the Ocean of the Streams of Story, whereof the Hindoos speak, will speedily be drained dry by your Slave, who now presents you with this little Tale, which he has conveyed from French Flanders. If it amuses your leisure as much to read, as it has diverted mine to translate it, I shall have that enjoyment which attends successful enterprise, and I remain,

Madam,

Yours very humbly to command

A. Z.

GOLDEN GOOSE

CHAPTER I.

Original

LONG TIME AGO there lived in French Flanders, at a village called Saint Saulve, Valenciennes way, a little cow-boy named Johnny Nut He had no father and no mother, and they called him Johnny Nut because he was found one fine morning under a walnut-tree. Silly Billy was another name he had, for he was just as great an innocent as a calf before it is weaned.

Now, never in his living days had Johnny Nut dined on anything better than potatoes, and the one thing he wanted in the world was to taste roast goose.

Original

Now, about a dozen miles off, Condé way, there is a village where the geese are so grand that all the world talks of nothing but the Hergnies geese.

'When I grow up,' said Johnny, 'I'll go to Hergnies and eat goose.'

Original

So, at long and at last, one autumn evening he left the cows in the lurch, and off he went, without beat of drum.

Now, whether he came back as poor as he started, and