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"
That
’
s
where
you
’
re
wrong
,
my
friend
,
my
friend
,
"
said
a
voice
.
Wilbur
looked
through
the
fence
and
saw
the
goose
standing
there
.
"
You
don
’
t
have
to
stay
in
that
dirty
-
little
dirty
-
little
dirty
-
little
yard
,
"
said
the
goose
,
who
talked
rather
fast
.
"
One
of
the
boards
is
loose
.
Push
on
it
,
push
-
push
-
push
on
it
,
and
come
on
out
!
"
"
What
?
"
said
Wilbur
.
"
Say
it
slower
!
"
"
At
-
at
-
at
,
at
the
risk
of
repeating
myself
,
"
said
the
goose
,
"
I
suggest
that
you
come
on
out
.
It
’
s
wonderful
out
here
.
"
"
Did
you
say
a
board
was
loose
?
"
"
That
I
did
,
that
I
did
,
"
said
the
goose
.
Wilbur
walked
up
to
the
fence
and
saw
that
the
goose
was
right
-
one
board
was
loose
.
He
put
his
head
down
,
shut
his
eyes
,
and
pushed
.
The
board
gave
way
.
In
a
minute
he
had
squeezed
through
the
fence
and
was
standing
in
the
long
grass
outside
his
yard
.
The
goose
chuckled
.
"
How
does
it
feel
to
be
free
?
"
she
asked
.
"
I
like
it
,
"
said
Wilbur
.
"
That
is
,
I
guess
I
like
it
.
"
