Further conversation is prevented, for the time, by the necessity under which Mr. Bagnet finds himself of directing the whole force of his mind to the dinner, which is a little endangered by the dry humour of the fowls in not yielding any gravy, and also by the made gravy acquiring no flavour and turning out of a flaxen complexion. With a similar perverseness, the potatoes crumble off forks in the process of peeling, upheaving from their centres in every direction, as if they were subject to earthquakes. The legs of the fowls, too, are longer than could be desired, and extremely scaly. Overcoming these disadvantages to the best of his ability, Mr. Bagnet at last dishes and they sit down at table, Mrs. Bagnet occupying the guest's place at his right hand.
It is well for the old girl that she has but one birthday in a year, for two such indulgences in poultry might be injurious. Every kind of finer tendon and ligament that is in the nature of poultry to possess is developed in these specimens in the singular form of guitar-strings. Their limbs appear to have struck roots into their breasts and bodies, as aged trees strike roots into the earth. Their legs are so hard as to encourage the idea that they must have devoted the greater part of their long and arduous lives to pedestrian exercises and the walking of matches. But Mr. Bagnet, unconscious of these little defects, sets his heart on Mrs. Bagnet eating a most severe quantity of the delicacies before her; and as that good old girl would not cause him a moment's disappointment on any day, least of all on such a day, for any consideration, she imperils her digestion fearfully. How young Woolwich cleans the drum-sticks without being of ostrich descent, his anxious mother is at a loss to understand.

Further conversation is prevented, as Mr. Bagnet needs to direct the whole force of his mind to the dinner, which is a little endangered by the fowls not yielding any gravy. With a similar perverseness, the potatoes crumble in the process of peeling. The legs of the fowls, too, are extremely scaly. Overcoming these disadvantages to the best of his ability, Mr. Bagnet at last serves up and they sit down at table.
It is well for the old girl that she has but one birthday in a year, for two such indulgences might be harmful. Every kind of tendon and ligament that poultry possesses is developed in these specimens in the singular form of guitar-strings. Their legs are as hard as if they devoted their long and arduous lives to walking matches. But Mr. Bagnet, unconscious of these little defects, sets his heart on Mrs. Bagnet eating a severe quantity of the delicacies before her; and as that good old girl would not cause him a moment's disappointment, she imperils her digestion fearfully. How young Woolwich cleans the chicken drum-sticks, his anxious mother is at a loss to understand.
