"Sugar-canes!" cried they all, surrounding Fritz, who had to give them
the history, and teach them the art of sucking the canes.

My wife, who had a proper respect for sugar in her housekeeping, was
much pleased with this discovery, and the history of all our
acquisitions, which I displayed to her. Nothing gave her so much
pleasure as our plates and dishes, which were actual necessaries. We
went to our kitchen, and were gratified to see preparations going on for
a good supper. My wife had planted a forked stick on each side the
hearth; on these rested a long thin wand, on which all sorts of fish
were roasting, Francis being intrusted to turn the spit. On the other
side was impaled a goose on another spit, and a row of oyster-shells
formed the dripping-pan: besides this, the iron pot was on the fire,
from which arose the savoury odour of a good soup. Behind the hearth
stood one of the hogsheads, opened, and containing the finest Dutch
cheeses, enclosed in cases of lead. All this was very tempting to hungry
travellers, and very unlike a supper on a desert island. I could not
think my family had been idle, when I saw such a result of their
labours; I was only sorry they had killed the goose, as I wished to be
economical with our poultry.

"Have no uneasiness," said my wife, "this is not from our poultry-yard,
it is a wild goose, killed by Ernest."

"It is a sort of penguin, I believe," said Ernest, "distinguished by
the name of _booby_, and so stupid, that I knocked it down with a stick.
It is web-footed, has a long narrow beak, a little curved downwards. I
have preserved the head and neck for you to examine; it exactly
resembles the penguin of my book of natural history."