Duck, Duck, Goose (4 page)

And the riverbank felt lonely.

Duck called out to his friend,

“GOOSE!”

but his cry was muffled by

the whir of the wind and

the gurgle of the river.

At last, Duck hung his head and sat down by their favorite bush.

“Oh, Goose, where are you?” he said, wishing that his friend could hear him.

From behind the bush came a familiar honk.

“Goose?” Duck called out.

“DUCK!” answered Goose.

“GOOSE! Where have you been?”

Goose sighed. “I don’t like to stand on my head.”

“No,” said Duck. “Actually, I don’t, either.”

“And when I hold my breath too long, I get dizzy.”

“Me too,” said Duck.

“And walking across a log scares me.”

Duck looked at Goose. “I thought you did a great job.”

“But Thistle won every time,” Goose said. “She’s very talented.”

Duck nodded. “I think she’s had lots of practice.”

“You know,” said Goose, “hopping on one foot is fun for a while, but sometimes I like to sit and smell the flowers.”

“Or feel a warm breeze,” said Goose.

“Or look for butterflies,” quacked Duck.

“Or even kick the ball around the meadow,” honked Goose.

Suddenly, out of the tall grass, Thistle appeared. “WOW! You guys are good hiders!” she quacked.

“And you’re a good finder,” said Goose.

“What should we do now?” asked Thistle.