hey were penned up for fattening, in the court, which gave rise to a
horrible cackling, well calculated to rob us of our night's rest for a
whole week. But a day was straightway set for the beginning of the
feast, about the middle of November. In the court, in a lean-to built
near the end of the house, and, strange to say, with a dove-cote over
it, was the servants' room, in which, beside the cook, two house-maids
slept, provided always they did any sleeping. The coachman was
supposed, according to a rule of the house, to occupy the straw-loft,
but was happy to forego the independence of these quarters, which went
with his position, preferring by his presence to crowd still worse the
already crowded space of the servants' room, in full accord with
Schiller's lines,

"Room is in the smallest hovel
For a happy, loving pair."

But when goose-killing time came it meant a very considerable further
overcrowding, for on the evening that the massacring was to begin
there was added to the number of persons usually quartered in the
servants' room a special force of old women, four or five in number,
who at other times earned a living at washing or weeding.

Then the sacrificial festivities began, always late in the evening.
Through the wide-open door--open, because otherwise it would not have
been possible to endure the stifling air--the stars shone into the
smoky room, which was dimly lighted by a tallow candle, with always a
thief in the candle. Near the door stood in a semi-circle the five
slaughter priestesses, each with a goose between her knees, and as
they bored holes through the skullcaps of the poor fowls, with sharp
kitchen knives--a procedure, the necessity of which I have never
understood--they sang all sorts of folk-songs, the text of which
formed a strange contrast, as well to the murderous act as to the
mournful melody. At least one had to suppose this to be the case, for
the maids, who sat on the edge of the bed with their guest from the
straw-loft between them, followed the folksongs with never-ending
merriment, and at the passages that sounded specially mournful they
even burst into cheers. Both my parents were morally strict, and they
often discussed the question, whether there were not some way to put a
stop to this insolent conduct, but they finally gave it up. My father
had a lurking suspicion that such a custom had existed in antiquity,
and, after he-had looked the matter up, said: "It is a repet