h you? I've never seen anything like him before."
"That's my comrade," said the goosey-gander. "He's been a goose-tender
all his life. He'll be useful all right to take with us on the trip."
"Yes, he may be all right for a tame goose," answered the wild one.
"What do you call him?" "He has several names," said the
goosey-gander--hesitantly, not knowing what he should hit upon in a
hurry, for he didn't want to reveal the fact that the boy had a human
name. "Oh! his name is Thumbietot," he said at last. "Does he belong to
the elf family?" asked the leader-goose. "At what time do you wild geese
usually retire?" said the goosey-gander quickly--trying to evade that
last question. "My eyes close of their own accord about this time."

One could easily see that the goose who talked with the gander was very
old. Her entire feather outfit was ice-gray, without any dark streaks.
The head was larger, the legs coarser, and the feet were more worn than
any of the others. The feathers were stiff; the shoulders knotty; the
neck thin. All this was due to age. It was only upon the eyes that time
had had no effect. They shone brighter--as if they were younger--than
any of the others!

She turned, very haughtily, toward the goosey-gander. "Understand, Mr.
Tame-goose, that I am Akka from Kebnekaise! And that the goose who flies
nearest me--to the right--is Iksi from Vassijaure, and the one to the
left, is Kaksi from Nuolja! Understand, also, that the second right-hand
goose is Kolmi from Sarjektjakko, and the second, left, is Neljae from
Svappavaara; and behind them fly Viisi from Oviksfjaellen and Kuusi from
Sjangeli! And know that these, as well as the six goslings who fly
last--three to the right, and three to the left--are all high mountain
geese of the finest breed! You must not take us for land-lubbers who
strike up a chance acquaintance with any and everyone! And you must not
think that we permit anyone to share our quarters, that will not tell us
who his ancestors were."

When Akka, the leader-goose, talked in this way, the boy stepped briskly
forward. It had distressed him that the goosey-gander, who had spoken up
so glibly for himself, should give such evasive answers when it
concerned him. "I don't care to make a secret of who I am," said he. "My
name is Nils Holgersson. I'm a farmer's son, and, until to-day, I have
been a human being; but this morning--" He got no further. As soon as he
had said that he was human the leader-go