"Look," he began in his sharp voice, "you say you have seven goslings. There were eight eggs. What happened to the other egg? Why didn't it hatch?"
“看,”他尖细地叫起来,“你说你有了七只小鹅。可共有八只蛋呢。第八只蛋怎么了?你没有孵吗?”
"It's a dud, I guess," said the goose.
“它是只坏蛋,我猜,”母鹅说。
"What are you going to do with it?" continued Templeton, his little round beady eyes fixed on the goose.
“你将怎么处理它?”坦普尔曼那圆溜溜的小眼珠盯向母鹅,继续说道。
"You can have it," replied the goose. "Roll it away and add it to that nasty collection of yours." (Templeton had a habit of picking up unusual objects around the farm and storing them in his home. He saved everything.)
“你可以把它带走,”母鹅回答。“把它滚到你那些肮脏的收藏品里去吧。”(坦普尔曼有把农场里没人要的东西收藏到家里的习惯。他什么都收藏。)
"Certainly-ertainly-ertainly," said the gander. "You may have the egg. But I'll tell you one thing, Templeton, if I ever catch you poking-oking-oking your ugly nose around our goslings, I'll give you the worst pounding a rat ever took." And the gander opened his strong wings and beat the air with them to show his power. He was strong and brave, but the truth is, both the goose and the gander were worried about Templeton. And with good reason. The rat had no morals, no conscience, no scruples, no consideration, no decency, no milk of rodent kindness, no compunctions, no higher feeling, no friendliness, no anything. He would kill a gosling if he could get away with it--the goose knew that. Everybody knew it.
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