“Any Cochins?”
“No!”
“Any Malays?”
“No!”
“What have you got?”
“About twenty common hens,” said I, perceiving that his thoughts were running on fancy breeds of fowls.
“Don’t want to buy a nice pair of Shanghais—do you?” said he.
“I couldn’t take them to-day,” said I.
“Let’s go look at them,” said he; and I followed him toward the barn.
“This is my hennery,” said he, with evident pride, as we came to a small yard which was inclosed with a fence made of long, narrow strips of board, set up endwise, and nailed to a slight railing. Inside was a low shed, with half a dozen small entrances near the ground.