The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1901-09-26

| was an afternoon in June, and we
L boys were lounging on the banks
OF CoIeby's pond. 1t was cool there
in III" shade, and we felt very COM
| Portable rs we watched old Coleby,
the blacksmith. at work in his hot.
grimy shop just across the sheet of
water that bore his name, and which
served as u sea for his stately fleet of
geese.
CUlehy was an honest old German.
lie owed no man a cent, and was care
full that no man should long owe him
| one.
Just and exact in his dealings. he
expected men to be just and exact
with him. Nevertheless, he was un-
fortunate enough to have provoked
the mirth of us boys, and. as we lay
there in the shade that afternoon. we
amused ourselves in a manner that
pleased us highly, but sent hiIl to the
verge of distraction.
"Coleby, Coleby, bring back that
goose!" we cried with the rythmic
swing of the voice with which the
rharcoal.vender cries his ware through
the streets. "Coleby, Coleby, bring
back that goose!"
Coleby's goose-that is, the one of
the flock that was celebrated in our
monotonous song-had one day
strayed from the rest as they plucked
grass on the common by the pond,
and was last seen, as one of the boys
told Coleby. near an inverted yawl.
raised a few feet from the ground
by standards. and used as hem
coop by fisherman who lived in the
vicinity.
Coleby mourncd the loss Of his
goose, and suspected that some of his
disreputable neighbors had taken her.
/. Having failed to discover the fate
of the fowl, he sailed forth one night
20 investigate. The first place he went
to was the fsherman's.
Now, Coleby wouldn't really have
gone into his neighbours coop with
out just reason, but he had right
to his suspicious, so he only listened
quietly outside, with his ear against
the weather-beatcn yawl.
Suddenly, Coleby heard the drowsy
"honk" of goosc-such n "honk' as
a homesick goose might make if she
were dreaming of a voyage with the
fleet on Coleby's pond
Coleby well knew that the fisher
man only had three chickens, two
ducks and n drake, and not a goose to
his name: so he concluded that the
fowl within was his.
Stealthily entering the coop, he
took the goose under his arm, but,
unused to such treatment, the goose
made such an outcry and fuss for
freedom that the fisherman was
aroused and hastened to the coop
door. where he met Coleby, who had
finally secured and quieted the fright
encd bird.
"Here, sir." said the fsherman;
"whose goose is that?"
"It ain'd your goose already" said
Coleby. Its mine goose"
What do you keep her in my coop
for, then?" shouted the fisherman.
"Shame on yoh," said Coleby, "for
stealing n poor goose-a poor goose
vat vas lost"
"Steal it," shouted the fisherman.
81 steal your goose! What do you
mean?"
How did yer goose get in your
coop if you did't steal it?" Coleby
asked, angrily.
And so the quarrel went on.
The fisherman was enraged. He
said he hadn't stolen the goose, and
didn't even know it was in his coop.
Coleby would listen to no explana-
ton, but went away triumphant, say
ing he would have the law on the
fisherman, if any more of his geese
were missing.
The next day the fisherman told it
over the village that Coleby had been
out raiding the coops, and had come
for one of his ducks and chickens, but
the goose already stolen made such
noise that it aroused him, and he
came upon the scene only to be ac-
cused of having stolen goose that
he knew had not been in his coop.
No honest fisherman, he said, would
stand being duped like that, and it
yo, ,,arfactIv nla:n that Colebv had