world in his professional costume; but occasional glimpses of him might be seen, as his portly figure filled up the doorway leading to the kitchens, the while he superintended the arrival of a whole cartload of meat, or received a smaller supply of sweetbreads from the basket of the butcher's boy. Dignity and diffidence were represented on such an occasion, when the great Mr. Coquus gave an audience to the small Cook's excursionist.
Mr. Fosbrooke's guests must have been hard to please if they could not find something to their liking in the various dishes which, under the superintendence of Mr. Coquus, were set before them; for there were beefsteaks, devilled kidneys, poached eggs and ham, curried chicken, veal cutlets, savoury omelettes with bacon, pigeon pie (or "dove-tart," to use the Oxford vernacular), and "spread eagle." Concerning this last-named dish, little Mr. Bouncer said to Verdant Green, "The Mum heard me talk about it, and made me promise to bring her a recipe for it; so I have got Coquus to write it down for me; and, when you come to us in the Long, and pay us your promised visit at my little shop in Herefordshire, I daresay the Mum will give you some for breakfast."
It may as well here be noted that the recipe for "An Oxford Spread-eagle," given by Mr. Coquus to little Mr. Bouncer, and by him handed to his mother, was as follows:—"Take a fine, tender fowl; split it down its back, and carefully press it flat. Grill it on a gridiron over a glede fire, from time to time rubbing it with butter, and sprinkling it with pepper. In about three-quarters of an hour it will be well cooked. Serve it up
