By the Shores of Silver Lake (Little House, #5)

by Laura Ingalls Wilder

Only an edging of ice remained around the shores of Silver Lake and among the dead slough grass. The lake water was blue as the sky, and far away in the shimmering sky an arrow of tiny black dots came up from the south. Faintly from far away came the wild, lonely sound of the wild geese calling. Pa came hurrying to the house. “First spring flock of geese’s in sight!” he said. “How about roast goose for dinner?” He hurried away with his gun. “Mm, it will be good,” Mary said. “Roast goose with sage stuffing! Won’t you like that, Laura!” “No, and you know I don’t,” Laura answered. “You know I don’t like sage. We’ll have onion in the stuffing.” “But I don’t like onion!” Mary said crossly. “I want sage!” Laura sat back on her heels where she was scrubbing the floor. “I don’t care if you do. We won’t have it! I guess I can have what I want sometimes!” “Why, girls!” Ma said astonished. “Are you quarreling?” “I want sage!” Mary insisted. “And I want onion!” Laura cried. “Girls, girls,” Ma said in distress. “I can’t think what’s got into you. And I never heard of anything so silly! You both know we have no sage, nor onion either.” The door opened, and Pa came in. Soberly he put his gun in its place. “Not a goose within gunshot,” he said. “The whole flock rose when it came to Silver Lake and kept on going north. They must have seen the new buildings and heard the noise. Looks like hunting’s going to be slim around here from now on.”