“I wish you would mind your own business” said the tumbled old coat, as the tailor Goose sent steam hissing through its tired crumpled body. “You’re always interfering with somebody, you hot-headed, rusty old Goose.”

Thus berated, the heart of the Goose swelled with indignation, for it was well aware that it’s actions on the poor old tumbled rag that was abusing it would impart new life, character and style to it in such a way that people would show it respect instead of contempt, and would admit it to society that, but for the Goose’s action, it would be forever shut out.

The Goose was not a thing of words, but deeds, so the warmth of its heart was very little cooled by this abuse, and once more it pressed the coat to its breast, kissing it with its smiling face again and again.

The water hissed from the press-cloth, and the tears that it tried to shed for the troubles of its friend the coat were dispelled in clouds of steam as the smiling face of the iron quietly went on its work of restoration.


The Goose had lost most of its ardour in the process of reformation, and felt little surprise that it’s heart should shrivel and contract as the result of the abuse and opposition it had met with

Gradually, the dilapidated old coat began to feel a sense of self-respect running through its parts, as it’s breasted took on a new form, and its foreparts became smart and shapely, its sleeves straightened out, and its general appearance improved so that, at last, it became quite proud of its presence.

The Goose had lost most of its ardour in the process of reformation, and felt little surprise that it’s heart should shrivel and contract as the result of the abuse and opposition it had met with, and it questioned whether, after all, the effort was worth the making; it was certainly none the better off; it had given of its best, and as it stood there, cold and grimey, it felt the baseness of the old coats ingratitude very acutely.

Just then, however, the owner of the coat came in, and seeing it so smart and trim, was loud in his praises.

“Why,” he said, “I was thinking of putting it into the rag-bag, or giving it to the homeless; but you have made it look like new!”

The old Goose was satisfied as he heard this and said “Ah, well! After all, something is the better for my efforts. The work of reformation is all times difficult, often disappointing, and is never carried through successfully without much warm-hearted self-sacrifice, when it is done. Our reward must be the thought that we have done what we could to purify and ennoble those we come in contact with by fitting them for purer spheres, and more exalted positions, even though we ourselves, who have been the agent of reform, are neglected, unappreciated, and over-looked. We must let the doing of a good deed be it’s own reward, not minding the criticism and ingratitude of those we help.”