Again Berson's fluent, delicately toned sketches make the sly and witty most of an old tale of canny comeuppance. The hero of the piece is neither farmer Balarin nor his pampered goat Fleurette (whom he hugs and scratches, feeds the finest delicacies and even crowns with wreaths of flowers) but plump Marinette, his abused wife. Marinette begins to baa and butt until one night, when Balarin wakens from a dream to find Fleurette in his bed and Marinette in the goat house, he agrees to hug and kiss his wife and scratch her nose and crown her with wreaths of flowers if she will only come home. ""And (he) fed her the finest delicacies he could find. And Marinette even saved a few for Fleurette."" Smartly turned from start to finish, and Balarin's dream of his wife saucily becoming a goat is something to see.