George said they would thicken the gravy.
I forget the other ingredients, but I know nothing was wasted; and I remember that, towards the end, Montmorency, who had evinced great interest in the proceedings throughout, strolled away with an earnest and thoughtful air, reappearing, a few minutes afterwards, with a dead water-rat in his mouth, which he evidently wished to present as his contribution to the dinner; whether in a sarcastic spirit, or with a genuine desire to assist, I cannot say.
We had a discussion as to whether the rat should go in or not.

Harris said that he thought it would be all right, mixed up with the other things, and that every little helped; but George stood up for precedent.
He said he had never heard of water-rats in Irish stew, and he would rather be on the safe side, and not try experiments.
Harris said: "If you never try a new thing, how can you tell what it's like?
It's men such as you that hamper the world's progress.

Think of the man who first tried German sausage!" It was a great success, that Irish stew.

I don't think I ever enjoyed a meal more.

There was something so fresh and piquant about it.