George Burnham - The History of the Hen Fever. A Humorous Record

I subsequently sold the eggs at ten dollars a dozen; then at six dollars; and finally, the third and fourth years, at five dollars. This paid me, because I sent off a great many.

But they didn't hatch well after having been transported away and shaken over in the hands of careless and ignorant or reckless express agents. Thus the buyers came again. Many of the early fanciers tried this experiment over and over again, but with similar ill-success; and when they had expended ten, twenty, or thirty dollars, perhaps, for eggs, they would begin at the beginning aright, and purchase a few chickens to rear, from which they could finally procure their own eggs, and go forward more successfully. But all this took time to bring it about.

And meanwhile somebody (I don't say who) was "feathering a certain nest" as rapidly as a course of high-minded and honorable dealing with his fellow-men would permit.

My premises were literally besieged with visitors, and my family attendants were worn out with answering the door-bell summons, from morning till night.

"Is Mr. B – at home? Can we see his Cochin-Chinas? Can we look at Mr. B – 's fowls? Might we take a look at the chickens?" were the questions from sun to sun again, almost; and I was absolutely compelled, in self-defence, to send the fowls away from home, for a while, for the sake of relief from the continual annoyances to which, in consequence of having them in my yard, I was subjected.

Fifteen, twenty, often forty callers in a single day, would come to see my "magnificent" Cochin-China fowls. But I sent them off, and then "the people" cried for them!

"Who's dead?" queried a stranger, passing my door one day, and observing the carriages and vehicles standing in a line along the front of my garden-fence.

"Nobody, I guess," said another; "that's where the Cochin-Chinas are kept."

"The what?"

"The Cochin-Chinas."

"What's them?"

"Don't you know?"

"No; never heard of 'em, afore."

"Never heard of Burnham's Cochin-Chinas?"

"Never! What are they?"

"Well, I reckon you ha'n't lived in these 'ere parts long, my friend," continued the other; "and you'd better step in and look at 'em."

In came the stranger, and after examining the fowls he returned.

"How do you like 'em?" asked the man who had already seen them, and was waiting for his friend outside.

"They're ronchers , that's a fact!" exclaimed the gratified stranger. And this was the universal opinion.

Nobody had ever seen such fowls ( I had seen a good many better ones!) – nobody had ever beheld any so large, so heavy, so fine. And every one who came to look at them purchased or engaged either eggs or chickens from these "extraordinary" and "never-to-be-too-much-lauded" royal Cochin-China fowls!

For my first broods of chickens (at three and four months old) I readily obtained twenty-five dollars a pair; and every one of them went off "like hot cakes" at this figure. It was too low for them, altogether; and I had occasion to regret, subsequently, that I did not charge fifty dollars a pair; – a price which I might just as easily then have obtained as if I had charged but one dollar a pair, as events proved to my satisfaction.

But everything connected with this fever could not well be learned at once. I was not a very dull scholar, and I progressed gradually. One year after the receipt of my Cochins, I got my own price for them, ask what I might. I sold a good many pairs at one hundred dollars the couple; and, oftentimes, I received this sum for a trio of them.

Things begun to look up with me. I had got a very handsome-looking stock on hand, at last; and when my numerous customers came to see me, they were surprised (and so was I ) to meet with such "noble" samples of domestic fowls. "Magnificent!" "Astonishing!" cried everybody.

A splendid open carriage halted before my door, one day, and there alighted from it a fine, portly-looking man, whom I had never seen before, and whose name I did not then learn; who, leaving an elegantly-dressed lady behind in the vehicle, called for me.

I saw and recognized the carriage , however, as one of Niles'; and I was satisfied that it came from the Tremont House. As soon as the gentleman spoke, I was also satisfied, from his manner of speech, that he was a Southerner. He was polite and frank, apparently. I invited him in, and he went to look at my fowls; that being the object, he said, of his visit.

He examined them all, and said, quietly:

"I'd like to get half a dozen of these, if they didn't come too high; but I understand you fanciers have got the price up. I used to buy these chickens for a dollar apiece. Now , they say, you're asking five dollars each for them."

I showed him my stock, – the " pure -bred" ones, – and informed him at once that I had not sold any of my chickens, latterly, at less than forty dollars a pair.

He was astounded. He didn't want any – much: that is, he wasn't particular. He could buy them for five dollars; shouldn't pay that, no how; wanted them for his boy; would come again, and see about it, &c. &c.

A five-year-old stag mounted the low fence at this moment, and sent forth an electrifying crow, such as would (at that period) have taken a novice "right out of his boots;" and a beautiful eight-pound pullet showed herself beside him at the same time. The stranger turned round, and said:

"There! What is your price for such a pair as that, for instance?"

"Not for sale, sir."

"But you will sell them, I s'pose?"

"No, sir. I have younger ones to dispose of; but that pair are my models. I can't sell them ."

The gentleman's eye was exactly filled with this pair of chickens.

"What will you take for those two fowls?"

"One hundred dollars, sir," I replied.

"I guess you will – when you can get it," he added. – "Name your lowest price, now, for those two. I want good ones, if any."

"I prefer to keep them, rather than to part with them at any price," I insisted. "If, however, a gentleman like yourself, who evidently knows what good fowls are, desires to procure the choicest specimens in the country, why, I confess to you that those are the persons into whose hands I prefer that my best stock should fall. But I will show you some at a lower figure," I continued, driving this pair from the fence.

"Don't you! Don't drive 'em away!" said the gentleman; – "let's see. That's the cock?"

"Yes, sir."

"And this is the hen?"

"Yes."

"One hundred dollars! You don't mean this, of course," he persisted.

"No, I mean that I would rather keep them, sir."

"Well – I'll — take them ," said the stranger. "It's cruel. But, I'll take them;" and he paid me five twenty-dollar gold pieces down on the spot, for two ten-months-old chickens, from my "splendid" Royal Cochin-China fowls.

He had a tender spot somewhere , that I had hit, during the conversation, I presume. He took the two chickens into his carriage, and I have never seen or heard from him from that day to this. I trust, however, if "these few lines" should ever meet his eye, that his poultry turned out well, and that he himself is in good health and spirits!

I called this gallant young cock "Frank Pierce," in honor of my valiant friend now of the White House, at Washington. It will be seen that I thus sold Frank for fifty dollars; a sum which the majority of the people of this country have since most emphatically determined was a good deal more than he ever was worth !