The very proper gander
by James Thurber as interpreted by an anonymous story teller
Not so very long ago there was a very fine gander. He was strong and
smooth and beautiful and he spent most of his time singing to his wife
and children. They lived in Ohio, where almost everybody loved
Benedict Donald, the over seer of the largest chicken house in all of the universes. One day somebody who saw the Gander strutting up and down in his
yard and singing remarked,
"There is a very proper gander." A red white and blue hen named Spinderella heard this and promptly reported to Mr Donald that night in the roost.
"They said something about propaganda," she said. "I have always
suspected that," said Mr Donald, and he went around the barnyard the next
day tweeting to the whole universe that the very fine gander was a dangerous bird,
more than likely a hawk in gander's clothing. A small brown hen named Smiller
remembered a time when at a great distance she had seen the gander
talking with some hawks in the forest. "They were up to no good," she
said. A duck named Mr Globalist remembered that the gander had once told him he did not
believe in anything. "He said to hell with the flag, too," said the
duck. A guinea cluck called da Hooch recalled that he had once seen somebody who looked
very much like the gander throw something that looked a great deal like a
bomb.
Finally everybody snatched up sticks and stones and descended on
the gander's house. He was strutting in his front yard, singing to his
children and his wife. "There he is!" everybody cried. "Hawk-lover!
Unbeliever! Flag-hater! Bomb-thrower!" So they set upon him and drove
him out of the country.
Moral: Anybody who you or your advisor thinks is going to overthrow the government by incompetence must be driven out of the country.
