She had ordered the chicken (or rather, yearling fowl; for it weighed over three pounds, and Molly was not paying the price of chicken in September) to be sent home _with the feet on_, for two reasons: first, because the butcher usually chops them off at the joint, or above it, when they should be taken off just below, else when roasted the flesh shrinks up, and they display an unsightly bare bone; and, secondly, because the feet, properly prepared, are too valuable, for gravy, to lose. Molly began by picking over the bird to remove a few stray feathers; then she took off the stove-lid, put some paper in the fire, and quickly moved the bird over the flame, taking care not to blacken the skin. “Now, Marta, if you are ready, I want you to pay great attention, because if you can clean a fowl you can also clean a duck, goose, or turkey; the process is the same, and either, improperly done, though you may remove everything that ought not to remain in it, will never taste the same. If the entrails are broken, it imparts the odor of the barnyard to the whole. “You see I cut the neck off close to the body, leaving as little of it on as I can; but, before beginning to cut, push the skin well down toward the body, so that there will be plenty of skin to cover the place where the neck has been. Cut off the feet just _below_ the joint; then cut the skin at the back of the neck, an inch or so down, and with your forefinger loosen the crop all round, and take it out without breaking or emptying it. Next cut a slit right under the rump, large enough to run two fingers in. If this were a goose or turkey, you would need it large enough to admit your whole hand into the body. Before attempting to draw out the entrails, loosen with your finger all the tiny strings that attach them to the body. Be certain your fingers can pass between the contents of the stomach and the body in _every_ direction without obstruction; then bend your hand or fingers round the mass, and draw it forward; this will bring the whole out in a ball. Be careful not to drag it by any particular part, or you will break the entrails, and the whole process be an unclean one; or you may spoil the fowl by breaking the gall, the bitter of which cannot be washed away. Cut off the vent, which will free the main entrail. If properly managed, the bird will be quite clean inside, and need only wiping with a wet cloth; if not clean, pour lukewarm water through it.” Molly worked while she talked, suiting the action to the word when possible; and when the entrails of the fowl lay on the table, quite unbroken, she showed Marta the clean inside. “You see this needs washing neither inside nor out; and that is the great object,—to prevent the contents of the entrails getting on the bird; for if they do, to my mind, no amount of washing will cleanse it.”