NOT ENNY SHANGHI FOR ME.
The shanghi ruseter is a gentile, and speaks in a forrin tung.
He is bilt on piles like a Sandy Hill crane.
If he had bin bilt with 4 legs, he wud resembel the peruvian lama.
He is not a game animil, but quite often cums off sekund best in a ruff and tumble fite; like the injuns, tha kant stand sivilization, and are fast disappearing.
Tha roost on the ground, similar tew the mud turkle.
Tha oftin go to sleep standing, and sum times pitch over, and when tha dew, tha enter the ground like a pickaxe.
Thare food consis ov korn in the ear.
Tha crow like a jackass, troubled with the bronskeesucks.
Tha will eat as mutch tu onst as a district skule master, and ginerally sit down rite oph tew keep from tipping over.
SHANGHI.
Tha are dredful unhandy tew cook, yu hav tu bile one eend ov them tu a time, yu kant git them awl into a potash kittle tu onst.
The femail ruster lays an eg as big as a kokernut, and is sick for a week afterwards, and when she hatches out a litter of yung shanghis she has tew brood them standing and then 168 kant kiver but 3 ov them—the rest stand around on the outside, like boys around a cirkus tent, gitting a peep under the kanvas when ever tha kan.
The man who fust brought the breed into this kuntry ought tew own them all and be obliged tew feed them on grasshoppers, caught bi hand.
I never owned but one and he got choked tu deth bi a kink in a clothes line, but not until he had swallered 18 feet ov it.
Not enny shanghi for me, if yu pleze; i wuld rather board a travelling kolporter, and as for eating one, give me a biled owl rare dun, or a turkee buzzard, roasted hole, and stuffed with a pair ov injun rubber boots, but not enny shanghi for me, not a shanghi!
Speaking ov hens, leads me tew remark, in the fust place, that hens, thus far, are a suckcess.
They are domestick, and occasionally are tuff.
This iz owing tew their not being biled often enuff in their younger daze; but the hen ain’t tew blame for this.
Biled hen iz universally respekted.
Thare iz a grate deal ov originality tew the hen—exactly how mutch i kant tell, historians fight so mutch about it. Sum say Knower had hens with him in the ark and sum say he didn’t. So it goes, which and tuther.
I kant tell yu which waz born fust, the hen or the egg; sumtimes i think the egg waz—and sumtimes i think the hen waz—and sumtimes i think i don’t kno, and i kant tell now, which way iz right, for the life ov me.
Laying eggs iz the hen’s best grip.
A hen that kant lay eggs—iz laid out.
One egg iz konsidered a fair day’s work for a hen. I hav herd ov their doing better, but i don’t want a hen ov mine tew do it—it iz apt tew hurt their constitution and bye-laws, and thus impare their futer worth.
The poet sez, butifully:
“Sumboddy haz stole our old blew hen!
I wish they’d let her bee;
She used tew lay 2 eggs a day,
And Sundays she’d lay 3.”
This sounds trew enuff for poetry, but i will bet 75 thousand dollars that it never took place.
The best time tew sett a hen, is when the hen is reddy.
I kant tell you what the best breed is, but the shanghigh is the meanest. It kosts as mutch tew board one, as it duz a stage hoss, and yu mite as well undertake tew fat a fanning-mill, by running oats thru it.
Thare aint no proffit in keeping a hen for his eggs, if he laze less than one a day.
Hens are very long lived, if they dont contrakt the thrut disseaze,—thare is a grate menny goes tew pot, evry year, bi this melankolly disseaze.
I kant tell exactly how tew pick out a good hen, but as a general thing, the long-eared ones, are kounted the best.
The one-legged ones, i kno, are the lest ap tew skratch up a garden.
Eggs packed in equal parts ov salt, and lime water, with the other end down, will keep from 30, or 40, years, if they are not disturbed.
Fresh beef-stake is good for hens; i serpose 4 or 5 pounds a day, would be awl a hen would need, at fust along.
I shall be happee tew advise with yu, at enny time, on the hen question, and—take it in egg.