n, gold studs and
cuff buttons besides other jewelry, and in one hand he carried a high
hat, in the other a small dress-suit case and a tightly rolled
umbrella.

"What's the matter here?" he inquired cheerfully.

"Why, this bird," explained the Gentleman Goose, pointing his claw
disdainfully at Ann, "says it has no feathers, which you can see for
yourself is not the case. It has feathers, therefore it is a bird.
Birds of a feather flock together. That settles it, I think! Come
along, boys. To work!"

At his command the two duck apprentices, who were standing one on
either side of Ann, made feeble dashes at the two long curls nearest
them. Rudolf stepped forward but the Hare was before him. He only
needed to stare at the two ducks through a single eye-glass he had
screwed into one of his eyes to make them turn pale and drop their
claws to their sides.

"Now once more," said the Hare to Ann. "What did you say you call
those unpleasantly long whiskers of yours?"

"Hair," Ann answered meekly, for she was too frightened to be
offended.

"Hair!" echoed Rudolf and Peter loudly.

"Bless me," said their new friend, "that's not at all _my_ business,
is it? Not at all in my line--oh, no!" He gathered up his hat,
dress-suit case, and little umbrella from the floor where he had
dropped them. "Be sure you don't follow me," he said, nodding
pleasantly and winking at the children. Then he stepped to the door
without so much as a look at the Gentleman Goose who called out
angrily:

"Stop, stop! Catch 'em, Squealer--at 'em, Squawker--hold 'em, boys!"

It was too late. The boys were too much afraid of the Hare to do more
than flutter and squawk a little, and as the Gentleman Goose did not
seem inclined to make an attack single-handed, the Hare, with the
children behind him, got to the door in safety. Peter, however, had
to be dragged along by Ann and Rudolf, for the Lady Goose had just
removed the great pot from the stove in time to prevent its contents
from boiling over, and the little boy was sniffing hungrily at the
steam. Now she came after the children carrying a large spoonful of
the bubbling stuff. "All done, all done," she cried. "Don't go without
a taste, dears."

"What's done?" asked Peter, eagerly turning back to her.

"Worms, dear; red ones and brown ones," answered the Lady
Goose,--"boiled in vinegar, you know--just like mother used to
make--with a wee bit of a grasshopper here and there for flavoring.
Mother