At the same time Molly took the meat out of the oven, and set it in the pan on the stove; she removed the crisp brown shoulder to the platter, put the potatoes round it, and then poured the fat from the corner of the dripping-pan into a jar very gently and carefully, to prevent the small quantity of brown sediment there was from leaving it too, for that was the gravy; when she could get no more fat from one corner, without letting the gravy go too, she changed to another, till it was free from it; she set the pan on the stove and poured in a cup of water and a pinch of salt; with a spoon she rubbed the pan in every direction, to get off the clinging glaze or dried gravy, and then she let the water boil fast while she looked after Marta and the cabbage which she was stirring. “Take a knife, Marta, and cut the cabbage across several times, and then, when the milk forms a creamy dressing and it all bubbles together, turn it out into the dish.” The gravy had in two minutes boiled down enough,—there was very little from such a small joint; it was poured through a strainer and, with the meat, put to keep warm while Molly made tea. “Turn the cabbage out now, Marta; put the cover on the dish and take it to the dining-room; then take the meat and bring in the macaroni when I ask you for it, but you can put it in the dish ready, and keep it hot. When all is ready, put on a white apron, which I hung for you behind the door, and tell Mr. Bishop, whom I see in the garden, that dinner is ready.” Molly had dressed herself in the afternoon and only needed to run up-stairs to remove traces of her work. As the clock struck six she heard Marta carrying in dinner, and got down herself in time to tell Harry it was served. “What joint may this be, my dear?” Harry asked when seated. “Ah! that is the English delicacy, a ‘shoulder of lamb.’ Don’t you remember Sam Weller’s ‘shoulder of mutton and trimmings’ at the ‘Swarry?’ There is a particular way to carve it, which my mother used to be very particular about. I can only describe it by saying, you cut it like a leg, and there is the same reason for beginning at the right side,—on one side you can cut only a shallow gash and a meagre slice, on the other a deep one,—therefore, till you are familiar with the joint, prod for the bone with your fork and make one deep cut to the centre on the side where the meat is thickest.” Harry did “prod,” and then, planting his fork, stood the joint on its side and made one cut, and the joint yawned as if a wedge had been cut out. “There is a mythical anecdote about a lady starving herself to death on shoulder of mutton.” “How so?” “Why, she chose that joint every day and merely made that cut, so that when it left the table it looked as if a meal had been eaten from it, and no one commented on her abstinence from food. Thank you, I will take the dish gravy.” “I approve of shoulder of lamb decidedly,” said Harry, during dinner.