ry wrongdoer would have been treated under
the same circumstances, summarily and smartly; the "wepping," as Phoebe
would say, being Mrs. Heaven's hand.

All but one of the goslings lived, like thousands of others who recover
in spite of the doctors, but the Square Baby's interest in the healing
art is now perceptibly lessened.

CHAPTER XIV

July 18th.

The day was Friday; Phoebe's day to go to Buffington with eggs and
chickens and rabbits; her day to solicit orders for ducklings and
goslings. The village cart was ready in the stable; Mr. and Mrs. Heaven
were in Woodmucket; I was eating my breakfast (which I remember was an
egg and a rasher) when Phoebe came in, a figure of woe.

The Square Baby was ill, very ill, and would not permit her to leave him
and go to market. Would I look at him? For he must have dowsed 'imself
as well as the goslings yesterday; anyways he was strong of paraffin and
tobacco, though he 'ad 'ad a good barth.

I prescribed for Albert Edward, who was as uncomfortable and feverish as
any little sinner in the county of Sussex, and I then promptly proposed
going to Buffington in Phoebe's place.

She did not think it at all proper, and said that, notwithstanding my
cotton gown and sailor hat, I looked quite, quite the lydy, and it would
never do.

"I cannot get any new orders," said I, "but I can certainly leave the
rabbits and eggs at the customary places. I know Argent's Dining
Parlours, and Songhurst's Tea Rooms, and the Six Bells Inn, as well as
you do."

{The Six Bells found the last poultry somewhat tough: p103.jpg}

So, donning a pair of Phoebe's large white cotton gloves with open-work
wrists (than which I always fancy there is no one article that so
disguises the perfect lydy), I set out upon my travels, upborne by a
lively sense of amusement that was at least equal to my feeling that I
was doing Phoebe Heaven a good turn.

Prices in dressed poultry were fluctuating, but I had a copy of _The
Trade Review_, issued that very day, and was able to get some idea of
values and the state of the market as I jogged along. The general
movement, I learned, was moderate and of a "selective" character. Choice
large capons and ducks were in steady demand, but I blushed for my
profession when I read that roasting chickens were running coarse,
staggy, and of irregular value. Old hens were held firmly at sixpence,
and it is my experience that they always have to be, at whatever pri