The Six Bells found the last poultry somewhat tough and tasteless; whereupon I said that our orders were more than we could possibly fill, still I hoped we could go on "selling them," as we never liked to part with old customers, no matter how many new ones there were.

Privately, I understood the complaint only too well, for I knew the fowls in question very intimately.

Two of them were the runaway rooster and the gadabout hen that never wanted to go to bed with the others.

The third was Cannibal Ann.

I should have expected them to be tough, but I cannot believe they were lacking in flavour.
The only troublesome feature of the trip was that Mrs.Sowerbutt's lodgers had suddenly left for London and she was unable to take the four rabbits as she had hoped; but as an offset to that piece of ill-fortune the Coke and Coal Yard and the Bicycle Repairing Rooms came out into the street, and, stepping up to the trap, requested regular weekly deliveries of eggs and chickens, and hoped that I would be able to bring them myself.