THE GREAT PAGODA HEN.
The most ridiculous and fulsome advertisements now occupied the columns
of certain so-called agricultural papers in this country, particularly
one or two of these sheets in New York State.
Stories were related by correspondents (and endorsed by the nominal
editors), regarding the proportions and weights and beauties of certain
of the "Bother'em" class of fowls, that rivalled Munchausen, out and
out. Fourteen and fifteen pound cocks, and ten or eleven pound hens,
were as common as the liars who told the stories of these
impossibilities. And one day the following capital hit, by Durivage,
appeared in a Boston journal. He called it "The Great Pagoda Hen." There
is as much truth in this as there was in many of the more
seriously-intended articles of that time. It ran as follows:
"Mr. Sap Green retired from business, and took possession of his country
'villa,' just about the time the 'hen fever' was at its height; and he
soon gave evidence of having that malignant disorder in its most
aggravated form. He tolerated no birds in his yard that weighed less
than ten pounds at six months, and he allowed no eggs upon his table
that were not of a dark mahogany color, and of the flavor of pine
shavings. He supplied his own table with poultry, and the said poultry
consisted of elongated drum-sticks, attached by gutta-percha muscles and
catgut sinews to ponderous breast-bones. He frequently purchased a
'crower' for a figure that could have bought a good Morgan horse; but
then, as the said crower consumed as much grain as a Morgan horse, he
could not help being perfectly satisfied with the bargain. His wife
complained that he was 'making ducks and drakes' of his property; but,
as that involved a high compliment to his ornithological tastes, he
attempted no retort. He satisfied himself that it 'would pay in the
end.' His calculations of profits were 'clear as mud.' He would have a
thousand hens. The improved breeds were warranted to lay five eggs
apiece a week; and eggs were worth--that is, _he was paying_--six
dollars a dozen. His thousand hens would lay twenty thousand eight
hundred and thirty-three dozen eggs per annum, which, at six dollars per
dozen, would amount to the sum of one hundred and twenty-four thousand
nine hundred and ninety-eight dollars. Even deducting therefrom the
original cost of the hens and their keep,--say thirty-six thousand
dollars,--the very pretty trifle of eighty-eight thousand nine hundred
and ninety-eight was the remainder--clear profit. Eggs--even dark
mahogany eggs--_went down to a shilling a dozen_! But we will not
anticipate.
"To facilitate the multiplication of the feathered species; Mr. Green
imported a French Eccaleobion, or egg-hatching machine, that worked by
steam, and was warranted to throw off a thousand chicks a month.
"One day an 'ancient mariner' arrived at the villa, with a small basket
on his arm, and inquired for the master of the house. Sap was just then
engaged in important business,--teaching a young chicken to crow,--but
he left his occupation, and received the stranger.
"'Want to buy an egg?' asked the mariner.
"'One egg? Why, where did it come from?' asked the hen-fancier.
"'E Stingies,' replied the mariner.
"'Domestic fowl's egg?'
"'Domestic.'
"'Let's see it.'
"The sailor produced an enormous egg, weighing about a pound. Sap
'hefted' it carefully.
"'Did you ever see the birds that lay such eggs?' he asked.
"'Lots on 'em,' replied the sailor. 'They're big as all out-doors. They
calls 'em the Gigantic Pagoda Hen. I'm afeared to tell you how big they
are; you won't believe me. But jest you hatch out that 'ere, and you'll
see wot'll come of it.'
"'But they must eat a great deal?' said Sap.
"'Scarcely anything,' replied the mariner; 'that's the beauty on 'em.
Don't eat as much as Bantams.'
"'Are they good layers?'
"'You can't help 'em laying,' replied the seaman, enthusiastically.
'They lay one egg every week-day, and two Sundays.'
"'But when do they set?' queried Green.
"'They don't set at all. They lays their eggs in damp, hot places, and
natur' does the rest. The chicks take keer of themselves as soon as
they're out of the shell.'
"'Damp, hot place!' said Sap. 'My Eccaleobion is the very thing, and my
artificial sheep-skin mother will bring 'em up to a charm. My friend,
what will you take for your egg?'
"'Cap'n,' said the mariner, solemnly, 'if I was going to stay ashore, I
wouldn't take a hundred dollars for it; but, as I've shipped ag'in, and
sail directly, you shall have it for forty.'
"The forty dollars were instantly paid, and the hen-fancier retired with
his prize, his conscience smiting him for having robbed a poor,
hard-working sailor.
"O, how he watched the egg-hatching machine while that extraordinary egg
was undergoing the steaming process! He begrudged the time exacted by
eating and sleeping; but his vigils were rewarded by the appearance, in
due time, of a stout young chick, with the long legs that are a proof of
Eastern blood. The bird grew apace; indeed, almost as rapidly as Jack's
bean-stalk, or the prophet's gourd. But the sailor was mistaken in one
thing; it ate voraciously. Moreover, as it increased in size and
strength, the Pagoda exhibited extraordinary pugnacity. It kicked a
dozen comrades to death in one night. It even bit the hand of the
feeder. Soon it was necessary to confine it in a separate apartment. Its
head soon touched the ceiling. What a pity it had no mate! Sap wrote to
a correspondent at Calcutta to ship him two pairs of the Great Pagoda
birds, without regard to cost. Meanwhile he watched the enormous growth
of his single specimen. He kept its existence a profound secret. It was
under lock and key, in a separate apartment, lighted by a large window
in the roof. Sap's man-of-all-work wheeled daily two bushels of corn and
a barrel of water to the door of the apartment, and Green fed them out
when no one was looking. Even this supply was scanty; but, out of
justice to his family, Sap was compelled to put the monster bird on
allowance.
"'Poor thing!' he would say, when he saw the creature devouring broken
glass, and even bolting stray nails and gravel-stones, 'it cuts me to
the soul to see it reduced to such extremity. But it's eating me out of
house and home. Decidedly, that sailor-man must have been deceived
about their being moderate feeders.'
"When the bird had attained to the enormous altitude of six feet, the
proud proprietor sent for the celebrated Dr. Ludwig Hydrarchos, of
Cambridge, to inspect him, and furnish him with a scientific
description, wherewith he might astonish his brethren of the Poultry
Association. The doctor came, and was carefully admitted by Green to the
presence of the Great Pagoda Hen. The bird was not accustomed to the
sight of strangers, and began to manifest uneasiness and displeasure at
seeing the man of science. It lifted first one foot and then the other,
as if it were treading on hot plates.
"'Hi! hi!' said Green, soothingly. 'Pagy! Pagy! come, now, be
quiet!--will you?'
"'Let me out!' cried Hydrarchos, in great alarm. The huge bird was
polking up to him. 'Let me out, I say!'
"'I never knew it to act so before,' said Green, fumbling at the lock.
"A whirr, a rush, a whizzing of the wings, and the bird was down on the
doctor, treading on his heels, and pecking at the nape of his neck.
"'Pagy! Pagy!' supplicated the owner.
"But the angry bird would not listen to reason, and Sap received a thump
on the head for his pains. And now both rushed for the opening door,
stumbling and falling prostrate in their eagerness to escape. The
monster bird danced a moment on their prostrate bodies, and then darted
forth from its late prison-house.
"It rushed through a couple of grape-houses, carrying destruction in its
progress. It scoured through the flower-beds, ruining the bright
parterres. Mrs. Green, who was walking in the garden with her child, saw
the horrid apparition, and stood paralyzed with terror. In an instant
she was thrown down and trampled under foot, shrieking and clasping her
infant in her arms.
"Mr. Green beheld this last atrocity, and his conjugal affection
overcame his love of birds. He caught up his fowling-piece and fired at
the ungrateful monster; the shot ripped up some of its tail-feathers,
but failed to inflict a mortal wound,--nothing short of a field-piece
could produce an impression on that living mass. Away sped the fowl to
the railroad-track, down which it rushed with headlong speed. But its
career was brief; an express train, coming up in an opposite direction,
struck it full in front, and rushed on, scattering feathers, wings and
drum-sticks, wildly in the air.
"'Tell me, doctor,' gasped Green, 'what do you think of my Great
Pagoda?'
"'Great Pagoda!' said the professor, in indignant disdain. 'That was a
Struthio,--Greek, _Strothous_,--in other words, an ostrich. If you
hadn't belonged to the genus _Asinus_, you'd have known that, without
asking me. Good-morning, Mr. Green.'
"'Where is the monster?' cried Mrs. Green. 'I believe the poor child is
killed. O, Sap, I didn't expect this of you!'
"'Be quiet, my dear,' said Green; 'it was only an experiment.'
"'An experiment, Mr. Green!' retorted the lady, sharply; 'your wife and
child nearly killed, and you call it an experiment! Nurturing ostriches
to devour your off-spring! I wonder you don't take to raising
elephants.'
"'No danger of that, Maria,' replied her husband, meekly. 'I have "seen
the elephant." And to-morrow I shall send my entire stock to the
auction-room,--Shanghaes, Chittagongs, Brahma Pootras, Cochins, Warhens
and Warhoos. They're nice birds, great layers, small eaters, but
they--_don't pay_.'"
* * * * *
Mr. Green was cured, of course; and though his anticipations were great,
yet he had his predecessors and his successors in the hen traffic, who
were almost as sanguine as he, and who not only "paid through the nose"
for their experience, but who came off, in the end, really, with quite
as little success. Mr. Green was but one of many. Mr. Green was one of
"the people."
It will be remembered that my correspondents allude to the fowls they
"_see in the noospapers_."
_I_ had seen these birds, in the same way, before _they_ did. And a
London dealer wrote me that he could send me a lot of Egleton's "famous"
stock, "which took the three first premiums at a metropolitan show, and
two descendants of which, at the close of the late exhibition, were sold
_at auction_ for forty-eight guineas ($262)."
I immediately sent out for a few of these monsters. They were described
to me as being of enormous size, and _feathered upon the legs_; and I
was now somewhat surprised to note that several of the English societies
decided that the _true_ "Cochin-China" fowl (as _they_ term this
variety) come only with feathered legs. The very stock above alluded to,
however, came direct from the city of _Shanghae_; and duplicate birds of
the same blood were delineated in the _London Illustrated News_. The
metropolitan associations required that all Cochin-China fowls put in
competition for premiums _must_ be feathered-legged. This was a new
decision, as it is well known that every importation of domestic fowl
yet brought out from China direct come more or less _clean_-legged; and
that fully one half of their progeny are so, with the most careful
breeding, both in England and in this country. This was immaterial,
however; and I repeated the story to my correspondents in good faith,
and sent them copies of the portraits of these new, "extraordinary,"
"splendid" and "astonishing" hens, precisely as their history and
pictures came to _me_. The result can be fancied. Here is the
"original" portrait of one of 'em.
[Illustration: ONE OF 'EM.]
This was the kind of thing that "took down" the outsiders. Orders for
this strain of pure blood poured in upon me, and I supplied them. I
trust the purchasers were always satisfied. In _my_ case, it might
answer; but I would not recommend the practice _generally_ of purchasing
chickens out of the newspapers. Such a portrait as the above _might_
chance to be a little fanciful; or, _perhaps_, it might be a trifling
exaggeration, you see. Yet this was the breed that were always "put in
the _newspapers_." You very rarely found them in your coops, though!