When the pheasant is in that condition it should he plucked, and not before.
The bird should then he stuffed, and in the following manner:
Take two snipe and draw them so as to put the birds on one plate, and the livers, etc., on another.
Take the flesh and mingle it with beef, lard and herbes fines, adding also salt and truffles enough to fill the stomach of the pheasant.
Cut a slice of bread larger, considerably, than the pheasant, and cover it with the liver, etc., and a few truffles. An anchovy and a little fresh butter will do no harm.
Put the pheasant on this preparation, and when it is boiled surround it with Florida oranges. Do not be uneasy about your dinner.
Drink burgundy after this dish, for long experience has taught me that it is the proper wine.
A pheasant served in this way is a fit dish for angels, if they visited the world as they did in Lot's day.
What I say, experience has already proved. A pheasant thus stuffed by Picard at La Grange [Footnote: Does he refer to La Fayette's estate?] was brought on the table by the cook himself. It was looked on by the ladies as they would have looked at one of Mary Herbault's hats. It was scientifically tasted, and in the interim the ladies eyes shone like stars, and their lips became coral.
I did more than this; I gave a similar proof to the judges of the supreme court. They are aware that the toga is sometimes to be laid aside, and I was able to show to several that good CHEER was a fit companion and reward for the labors of the senate. After a few moments the oldest judge uttered the word excellent. All bowed, and the court adopted the decision. I had observed that the venerable old men seemed to take great delight in smelling the dish, and that their august brows were agitated by expressions of extreme serenity, something like a half smile hanging on their lips.