s who have eaten of these geese have all declared that
they did not imagine that a goose could be brought to be so good a bird.
These geese are altogether different from the hard, strong things that
come out of the stubble fields, and equally different from the flabby
things called a green goose. I should think that the cabbages or lettuces
perform half the work of keeping and fatting my geese; and these are
things that really cost nothing. I should think that the geese, upon an
average, do not consume more than a shilling's worth of oats each. So that
we have these beautiful geese for about four shillings each. No money will
buy me such a goose in London; but the thing that I can get nearest to it,
will cost me _seven_ shillings. Every gentleman has a garden. That garden
has, in the month of July, a wagon-load, at least, of lettuces and
cabbages to throw away. Nothing is attended with so little trouble as
these geese. There is hardly any body near London that has not room for
the purposes here mentioned. The reader will be apt to exclaim, as my
friends very often do, "Cobbett's Geese are all _Swans_." Well, better
that way than not to be pleased with what one has. However, let gentlemen
try this method of fatting geese. It saves money, mind, at the same time.
Let them try it; and if any one, who shall try it, shall find the effect
not to be that which I say it is, let him reproach me publicly with being
a deceiver. The thing is no _invention_ of mine. While I could buy a goose
off the common for half-a-crown, I did not like to give seven shillings
for one in London, and yet I wished that geese should not be excluded from
my house. Therefore I bought a flock of geese, and brought them home to
Kensington. They could not be eaten all at once. It was necessary,
therefore, to fix upon a mode of feeding them. The above mode was adopted
by my servant, as far as I know, without any knowledge of mine; but the
very agreeable result made me look into the matter; and my opinion, that
the information will be useful to many persons, at any rate, is sufficient
to induce me to communicate it to my readers.

DUCKS.

169. No water, to _swim_ in, is necessary to the old, and is _injurious_
to the very young. They never should be suffered to swim (if water be
near) till _more than a month old_. The old duck will lay, in the year, if
_well kept_, ten dozen of eggs; and that is her best employment; for
common hens are the best mothers. It