he children. Nana was so furious that she bit
Augustine on the wrist.

"Ah! you know," murmured Augustine, "I'll tell your mother that after
the veal you asked Victor to kiss you."

But all became quiet again as Gervaise and mother Coupeau came in to get
the goose. The guests at the big table were leaning back in their chairs
taking a breather. The men had unbuttoned their waistcoats, the ladies
were wiping their faces with their napkins. The repast was, so to say,
interrupted; only one or two persons, unable to keep their jaws still,
continued to swallow large mouthfuls of bread, without even knowing that
they were doing so. The others were waiting and allowing their food to
settle while waiting for the main course. Night was slowly coming on; a
dirty ashy grey light was gathering behind the curtains. When Augustine
brought two lamps and placed one at each end of the table, the general
disorder became apparent in the bright glare--the greasy forks and
plates, the table cloth stained with wine and covered with crumbs. A
strong stifling odor pervaded the room. Certain warm fumes, however,
attracted all the noses in the direction of the kitchen.

"Can I help you?" cried Virginie.

She left her chair and passed into the inner room. All the women
followed one by one. They surrounded the Dutch oven, and watched with
profound interest as Gervaise and mother Coupeau tried to pull the bird
out. Then a clamor arose, in the midst of which one could distinguish
the shrill voices and the joyful leaps of the children. And there was
a triumphal entry. Gervaise carried the goose, her arms stiff, and her
perspiring face expanded in one broad silent laugh; the women walked
behind her, laughing in the same way; whilst Nana, right at the end,
raised herself up to see, her eyes open to their full extent. When the
enormous golden goose, streaming with gravy, was on the table, they did
not attack it at once. It was a wonder, a respectful wonderment, which
for a moment left everyone speechless. They drew one another's attention
to it with winks and nods of the head. Golly! What a bird!

"That one didn't get fat by licking the walls, I'll bet!" said Boche.

Then they entered into details respecting the bird. Gervaise gave the
facts. It was the best she could get at the poulterer's in the Faubourg
Poissonniers; it weighed twelve and a half pounds on the scales at the
charcoal-dealer's; they had burnt nearly half a bushel of charcoal in
co