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"I don't believe it."

"D'you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled

them ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that

went to the Alpha were town bred."

"You'll never persuade me to believe that."

"Will you bet, then?"

"It's merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But

I'll have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be

obstinate."

The salesman chuckled grimly. "Bring me the books, Bill," said

he.

The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great

greasy-backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging

lamp.

"Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman, "I thought that I

was out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there is

still one left in my shop. You see this little book?"

"Well?"