Here’s my last piece from Tales of Old Berkshire, and I think it’s true, and probably the most recent of the lot. It seems the housewife had no idea of CPR on her goose, but it must have been very, very drunk.
There was once a good housewife who lived in Bucklebury Slade, a pretty hamlet set in the midst of a most lovely Common.
She had collected a plentiful supply of sloes as she walked along the country lanes and decided to make some fine sloe gin. In due course she threw the stones from the gin-soaked fruit into her cottage garden. Later in the day the poor woman was very upset to find her pt goose dead on the doorstep.
Being of necessity a thrifty woman, she could not bear to waste good food, so she plucked her poor goose and hung him up in the larder.
She was in for a surprise! Her goose recovered from his drunken stupor and was soon protesting loudly at his undignified condition.
Filled with remorse the good lady knitted her pet a little jacket so that he should keep cosy until his feathers grew again.