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Hope Farm Notes

PROFESSOR GANDER’S ACADEMY
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our thanksgiving turkey this year will be a goose—or rather a pair of geese. as you read this they will be browning and sizzling in the oven, with plenty of “sage and onion” to stuff in the desired quality. they will come to the table flanked by half a dozen vegetables and backed by several big pumpkin pies. i shall resign the position of carver, remembering my old experience with the roast duck and the minister. the duck got away from my knife, and slid all over the table, ending by upsetting the gravy in front of the minister’s plate. after the usual objections mother will apply the carving knife to the geese, secretly proud of her skill as an anatomist. she can do everything with a roasted goose except provide white meat. since nature decided not to implant that delicacy in the breast of a goose, man cannot supply it. therefore the lady must content herself with brown meat. i’ll guarantee that most blind men eating the white breast of a turkey and then the brown breast of a goose would call for more of the latter. it is something like this rather foolish preference for white-shelled eggs. like “the colonel’s lady and judy o’grady,” they are sisters under the shell! anyway, a goose, well stuffed and roasted, is a thank-offering well suited to the hope farm table.

no doubt as we pour the thick brown gravy over mother’s generous slices mr. gander will lead his family across the lawn and find something to be thankful for. i have learned, this summer, to have great respect for gander and his wife, the gray goose. nature may have left the white meat out of the goose in order to prepare a finer delicacy, but she put an extra quantity of gray matter into the goose brain. it seems to me that mr. gander and his able assistant are about the most successful teachers of youth i have ever known. to many a learned educator i would say, “go to the goose, thou wise man, and learn how to train the young for a successful life.” take this young bird, whose meat is rapidly disappearing from the thanksgiving altar. mother has scraped the bones nearly clean. what little remains will be boiled out as soup. this bird has lived what i may call an eminently successful life. he ends his career in the highest place possible to be conceived of in the philosophy of a goose. he was trained and educated from the start, and as i look at gander and goose on the lawn i cannot think of any human teachers who have had any greater success in training their charges into just what a man or woman ought to be.

in the spring the gray goose selected a place in the old barn and laid 21 eggs. we rather expected more, but the goose was master of ceremonies. she came back to the same place each day, and finally we found her there hissing like the steam escaping from a broken pipe. it was her signal that she was ready to serve as incubator. so we put 13 eggs under her and eight more under a big red hen. this big hen was a great failure as a layer, but as nurse and incubator she had proved a wonder. she had raised three broods of chicks with great success. surely she ought to be a better guide and teacher of youth than a young goose with her first brood! if you were selecting teachers for your children would you not choose those who have had experience? in due time, and on the same day, the goose walked out with 10 goslings, while the red hen sat on her nest and compelled five to stay under her. the two broods kept apart. the hen was evidently disappointed with the way the goose handled children, and she punished her brood whenever they tried to mingle with their own brothers and sisters. they all lived, but after about eight weeks i noticed a strange thing. the hen’s brood, though eating the same food, would average at least 30 per cent lighter than the goslings which ran with the goose. there was no question about it—the hen’s charges were inferior in size and weight and in “common sense,” or the art of looking out for themselves.

there being no chance for an argument about it, i concluded that it was very largely a matter of education, and we began to study the methods of teaching employed by mr. and mrs. gander and mrs. red hen. the first thing we noticed was the influence of the male side of the family. roger red, the big rooster, paid no attention to his wife’s family. all he did was to mount the fence and crow, or go gallivanting off after worms or seeds. if one of the goslings got in his way he kicked it to one side and gave not even a suggestion to his busy wife. he was like one of those men who will not even wheel the baby carriage, but make the wife carry the child. on the other hand, mr. gander was a true head of the family. he kept right with the goose, brooded part of the flock at night, fought off rats and even a weasel, and was ready to battle with a hawk or a cat. in time of danger the rooster ran for shelter, but the gander stepped right out in front of his brood with his wing extended like a prizefighter’s arm, and that great bill open to nip a piece of flesh out of the enemy. he taught his children to graze on weeds and grass. when anyone forgot to feed them the gander wasted no time in complaint. he led his family right into the garden, where they picked up their share. he led the goslings through the wet grass and into the brook, where they cleaned out all the watercress and weeds. on the other hand, the hen hung around the barnyard and cried if breakfast did not come on time. she would not let her children wade through the wet grass or get into the water, and she did not know that a young goose can eat grass like a calf. the hen worried herself insane when her family followed the natural instincts of geese and headed for the brook.

now, mrs. hen is not the first teacher who has failed to understand the first law of education—to train a child properly you must understand his natural instincts and tendencies and build upon them. for many generations the hen has feared water, and has been taught that all feathered young must be kept away from it. i have no doubt that a race of swimming hens could be developed, provided the fear of water could be taken from the mind of the hen. for the hen must swim with her mind before she can swim with her feet! i have seen many cut-and-dried teachers as much afraid of the truth as this big red hen was afraid of water. at any rate, we learned why one set of goslings was far superior to the other. one set had the benefit of father’s example and influence. their teacher knew from long experience just what a young goose ought to know. the teacher knew that because she had been a goose herself, and could remember her youth. the hen’s brood knew nothing of their father’s example—no more than some little humans who only seem to know there is a man in the world who claims to be the detached head of the family. the hen’s goslings were brought up in one of these beheaded families. their teacher ranked as a successful educator, but as she had never been a young goose herself she could not teach her children what they ought to know. it was not unlike trying to make a blacksmith out of a poet, or a drygoods salesman out of a natural farmer. these feathered children were fed and warmed and defended, but they could not make perfect geese because they were not trained to work out a goose job.

the result was clearly evident. the young geese under the hen were undersized and fell into the hen character. after centuries of domestication or slavery the average hen loses the independence of the wild bird. now and then a nobler specimen will feel some dormant brain cell thrill within her, remember the freedom of centuries ago and fly into the trees, but for the most part the modern hen is a selfish, fawning, tricky creature. she drives her family away as soon as the children become tiresome, and there is little or no real community life among hens. when their usual food is not forthcoming all but a few adventurous spirits stand slouching about waiting for help. thus the goslings were taught to fawn upon man for their food and reject their brothers and sisters in the other brood. it was an unnatural life for a goose, and these little ones could not thrive under such training. on the other hand, mr. gander’s pupils were taught by an expert on goose training. they were taught to swim, to bathe in the wet grass, to eat grass or hay, to get out and find their own breakfast if man did not do his duty. as a result they grew up with strong independence of character. while the others might fawn and beg for food, the gander’s class were taught to scorn such subservient behavior. and they were taught family life and co-operation. while the hens separate and lead their selfish, separate lives, the geese live in a group. there they go now in a solid bunch across the lawn. throw a stick into a flock of hens or let a dog run at them, and they will scatter in all directions. try the same with a flock of young geese, and they will line up in solid array “all for each and each for all.” i do not know of anything finer in the education of geese or children than this thorough idea of co-operation. in the future those groups which are taught like the geese will rule the nation. those which are taught to fear strange things or live the selfish life of a hen will always serve. in other words, the future of this country depends on its teachers and their wisdom? you are right!

but the real, final test of a goose’s education is made with the carving-knife. judging from the empty plates i think this one will pass a good examination. if i am not mistaken this was one of the hen’s goslings. when we saw that their teacher was a failure we put them into mr. gander’s class. he looked them over and knocked them down with his wing a few times. then he put his wise head to one side as if to say:

“i’ll do my best with them. they have been spoiled, and i must take some of the conceit out of them first. if the law forbidding corporal punishment holds in new jersey i will resign the task, because no goose can ever live a successful life unless those foolish hen ideas are whipped out of him. and another thing: i won’t have that red hen bothering around me. the influence of a foolish mother is the worst thing a teacher has to contend with. i’ll try to make geese out of them, but keep that hen away!”

the red hen put up a great cry for a time. she ran out and called for her “darling children” to leave those low companions. the goose took those “darling children” right by the tail feathers and pulled them back. the gander waddled up to the hen and took one nip which sent her squawking to the barnyard, where the big rooster was challenging the world.

“i’ve been insulted!” she screamed, “and my dear children have been stolen from me. if you have the courage of a mouse you will defend your wife!”

“where is he?” roared the rooster, and he started on a run for the orchard. there was the goose with all her children at school, and right in front was the gander with his great beak open and that right wing all unslung for a blow. the rooster got within about six feet of him and then halted. he didn’t like the looks of that sharp beak.

“good-morning, mr. gander! i saw you over in the next field, and i came to ask how the worms are running over there!”

as he went back the rooster, after the manner of husbands generally, sought to pacify his wife.

“after all, your children are in a good school, and you will now have more time for your neglected household duties. nursing those children has been a hard strain on you. now for a little recreation!”

from my own experience i can testify that professor gander is right. no one can train a child properly if the mother is foolish naturally, and seeks to interfere with the child’s education. those who undertake to “take a child” into their family may well take heed from professor gander. it were far better that such a child never saw his mother again. she may easily ruin the life which she brought into the world.

but at any rate, this bird on the table was well educated to live the perfect life of a goose. have another slice! i know you can eat another helping of this dressing. pass back your plate. of course i know mother would like to hold that other goose back for a later meal, but that is not the true thanksgiving spirit. pass back for another slice and i will use my influence with the housekeeper to carve the second goose. its education has been finished.

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