The fussy man misses many a delicacy
— Well, if it isn't you! How lovely that you dropped by — I'm in a real pickle, or rather a goose-pickle.
— What is that you're saying, goose-p…?
— Well, you see, in Tor's family they've always had roast goose on Martinmas Eve, and now he's got it into his head that we should invite the family for a Martinmas goose, since it's the first year he has his own house. And I haven't the faintest idea how one manages such a goose. I'd so hate to disgrace myself, too — well, you've probably heard about the lady who won the prize in a competition in America for the best advice on keeping a marriage happy; she answered: «The beast must be well fed.» But first of all, what exactly is this business of the Martinmas goose?
— I'll tell you, if in return you'll give me a cup of tea.
The Martinmas goose was so named in memory of Saint Morten, or rather Martin of Tours. He lived in something like the 4th century and was a very pious man. When they wanted to make him a bishop, he felt he was unworthy, fled out of sheer modesty, and hid in a goose pen, but the geese gave him away by cackling so loudly. That's how I learned it, at any rate, but Erik says it's all just legend and nonsense …