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A farmer called Barty was planning a party:
"Let's have both the gander and goose."
The goose overheard, but she missed the last word -
That the sauce would be made from her juice.

"Oh, what could be grander!" she said to the gander,
"It seems they intend to invite us.
I've heard them discussing a game they call 'trussing';
The party will surely delight us."

But he was less sure, so he hid in the straw.
Through the window next day, with a shiver,
He wept as he looked at the goose lying cooked,
And the sauce that they'd made from her liver.

"I'll have none of their sauce, and I won't be a course
For their party - I'll see them in Hades!"
That night, very late, he ran out of the gate,
And was squashed by a passing Mercedes.