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"My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the

pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she

was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in

it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in

the yard, and behind this I drove one of the birds-a fine big

one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying its bill

open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger

could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass

along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped

and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the

matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and

fluttered off among the others.

"'Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?' says she.

"'Well,' said I, 'you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and I

was feeling which was the fattest.'