strophised 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. I offered it to a man in Judd Street, who
I thought appeared hungry. He turned out to be a drunken ruffian. I
could not make him understand what I meant, and he followed me down the
road abusing me at the top of his voice, until, turning a corner without
knowing it, he plunged down Tavistock Place, shouting after the wrong
man. In the Euston Road I stopped a half-starved child and pressed it
upon her. She answered 'Not me!' and ran away. I heard her calling
shrilly after me, 'Who stole the goose?'

"I dropped it in a dark part of Seymour Street. A man picked it up and
brought it after me. I was unequal to any more explanations or
arguments. I gave him twopence and plodded on with it once more. The
pubs were just closing, and I went into one for a final drink. As a
matter of fact I had had enough already, being, as I am, unaccustomed to
anything more than an occasional class of beer. But I felt depressed,
and I thought it might cheer me. I think I had gin, which is a thing I
loathe.

"I meant to fling it over into Oakley Square, but a policeman had his eye
on me, and followed me twice round the railings. In Golding Road I
sought to throw it down an area, but was frustrated in like manner. The
whole night police of London seemed to have nothing else to do but
prevent my getting rid of that goose.

"They appeared so anxious about it that I fancied they might like to have
it. I went up to one in Camden Street. I called him 'Bobby,' and asked
him if he wanted a goose.

"'I'll tell you what I don't want,' he replied severely, 'and that is
none of your sauce.'

"He was very insulting, and I naturally answered him back. What actually
passed I forget, but it ended in his announcing his intention of taking
me in charge.