The Brother of the Old Wild Goose

I WAS sitting back in my chair with my arms folded behind my head the other night, thumbing over my memories for contrast and making it easier to count the blessings that have come into my life since I got sobered up, when for no reason the weird strains of a song having to do with the wild goose entered my mind and I burst out laughing. The family showed great concern and hovered about me until I had assured them everything was all right, and I proceeded to tell them of the incident I am about to relate: