Mårbacka (1924)
by Ottilia Lovisa Selma Lagerlöf, translated by Velma Swanston Howard
The Old Housekeepers's Tales
Ottilia Lovisa Selma Lagerlöf4593483MårbackaThe Old Housekeepers's Tales1924Velma Swanston Howard
IV
The Gander

There was only one thing the children had against Pastor Wennervik—that in his late years he had married Jungfru Raklitz, the dreadful old housekeeper-person who had gone from manor to manor and been harassed and tormented by hard mistresses, until she, in her turn, became a plague and a torment.

If Pastor Wennervik must needs have married again he should at least have thought to protect his dear daughter against the stepmother. That she was allowed to treat the girl as she saw fit, to scold and chastise her and put upon her an unreasonable amount of work—that, the children could never forgive him.

How they loved the billy-goat that got drunk on dregs and butted into old Raklitz, upsetting both her and her brandy cruse. They also sided with the market folk at the Ombergshed Fair who stole her apples and shouted back to her that the Mårbacka parson was too good a man to take money from poor folk for his apples. And they gloried in the bold thief who broke into her larder after she'd had a new lock put on the door which was so big and strong it might have done for a prison gate. And they were ready to burst into tears at the thought of the poor goosey-gander!

One fine April day, in the time of Fru Raklitz, all the Mårbacka geese had been let out in the farmyard. Suddenly some wild geese came flying high above them, honking and shrieking as usual. The tame geese flapped their wings and squawked back—the way they do every spring.

As flock after flock of wild geese flew over, the tame geese grew more and more restless, and before any one knew what was up, a big gander darted into the air and joined the wild geese in their flight.

Everyone expected that he would soon turn back; but indeed he did nothing of the sort. When he was not there by the next morning, they thought they'd never lay eyes on him again. He must have fallen prey to the fox or the eagle, they said, if he had not actually become winded and dropped dead from exhaustion. It was inconceivable that a tame goose could fly with wild geese to the far north.

Nothing was seen or heard of the gander the whole summer. But when autumn came, and the wild geese flew southward, shrieking and calling as always, the tame geese again lifted their wings and answered them.

Fru Raklitz, seeing how excited the geese were, and being more wary this time than the last, told her stepdaughter, Lisa Maja, to run out and drive the geese into the barn.

Lisa Maja had no sooner stepped into the barnyard than she heard a loud rustling noise just over her head, and almost before she had time to blink, a flock of wild geese alighted on the ground right in front of her. A big fine white gander was the leader; behind him walked a gray mother goose, trailed by nine speckled goslings. The girl hardly dared move lest she frighten them away. Very cautiously she opened the barn door and concealed herself behind it.

The goosey-gander made straight for the barn, his family following him. When they were all inside, Lisa Maja stole softly after to see where they had gone. Well, the big goosey-gander had walked right into the goose pen, and was calling and coaxing till those with him went in, too. Then he led them up to the trough, which was full of oats and water, and fell to feeding.

"See, this is what I'm used to," he seemed to be saying to his family. "This is how I have always lived... No food worries, only to step up to a full trough."

Lisa Maja quietly slipped out, shutting the door after her, and hurried back to Fru Raklitz.

"Mother dear, do come see!" she said. "The gander who flew away in the spring has come back with a wild goose and nine little goslings."

All her life she regretted having shut in the goosey-gander and told of his return. Fru Raklitz, without saying a word, hunted up the little knife which was used for killing geese, and before sundown the fine white goosey-gander, the nice gray mother goose, and all the pretty goslings were dead and plucked.

"It was a poor reward you gave our goosey-gander. Mother, for coming back to us with so many nice geese," was all she dared say.

"'Twas enough at least to make all the geese on this place understand what happens to those who defy me and try to run away," Fru Raklitz retorted, a malicious smile playing round her hard mouth.