oking it, and it had given three bowls full of drippings.

Virginie interrupted her to boast of having seen it before it was
cooked. "You could have eaten it just as it was," she said, "its skin
was so fine, like the skin of a blonde." All the men laughed at
this, smacking their lips. Lorilleux and Madame Lorilleux sniffed
disdainfully, almost choking with rage to see such a goose on
Clump-Clump's table.

"Well! We can't eat it whole," the laundress observed. "Who'll cut it
up? No, no, not me! It's too big; I'm afraid of it."

Coupeau offered his services. _Mon Dieu!_ it was very simple. You caught
hold of the limbs, and pulled them off; the pieces were good all the
same. But the others protested; they forcibly took possession of the
large kitchen knife which the zinc-worker already held in his hand,
saying that whenever he carved he made a regular graveyard of the
platter. Finally, Madame Lerat suggested in a friendly tone:

"Listen, it should be Monsieur Poisson; yes, Monsieur Poisson."

But, as the others did not appear to understand, she added in a more
flattering manner still:

"Why, yes, of course, it should be Monsieur Poisson, who's accustomed to
the use of arms."

And she passed the kitchen knife to the policeman. All round the table
they laughed with pleasure and approval. Poisson bowed his head with
military stiffness, and moved the goose before him. When he thrust
the knife into the goose, which cracked, Lorilleux was seized with an
outburst of patriotism.

"Ah! if it was a Cossack!" he cried.

"Have you ever fought with Cossacks, Monsieur Poisson?" asked Madame
Boche.

"No, but I have with Bedouins," replied the policeman, who was cutting
off a wing. "There are no more Cossacks."

A great silence ensued. Necks were stretched out as every eye followed
the knife. Poisson was preparing a surprise. Suddenly he gave a last
cut; the hind-quarter of the bird came off and stood up on end, rump in
the air, making a bishop's mitre. Then admiration burst forth. None were
so agreeable in company as retired soldiers.

The policeman allowed several minutes for the company to admire the
bishop's mitre and then finished cutting the slices and arranging them
on the platter. The carving of the goose was now complete.

When the ladies complained that they were getting rather warm, Coupeau
opened the door to the street and the gaiety continued against the
background of cabs rattling down the street and pedestri