"'What's this?' he asked.
"'It's a goose,' I said. 'You can have it cheap.'
"He just seized the thing by the neck and flung it at me. I
dodged, and it caught the side of my head. You can have no idea,
if you've never been hit on the head with a goose, how if hurts. I
picked it up and hit him back with it, and a policeman came up with
the usual, 'Now then, what's all this about?'
"I explained the facts. The poulterer stepped to the edge of the
curb and apostrophised the universe generally.
"'Look at that shop,' he said. "It's twenty minutes to twelve, and
there's seven dozen geese hanging there that I'm willing to give
away, and this fool asks me if I want to buy another.'
"I perceived then that my notion had been a foolish one, and I
followed the policeman's advice, and went away quietly, taking the
bird with me.
"Then said I to myself, 'I will give it away. I will select some
poor deserving person, and make him a present of the damned thing.'
I passed a good many people, but no one looked deserving enough.
It may have been the time or it may have been the neighbourhood,
but those I met seemed to me to be unworthy of the bird.
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