Yet, as I honor talent and enterprise, wherever they may be shown, I trust that this association may be galvanized into successful operation—as, perhaps, it will!
CHAPTER XXXIX.
A SATISFACTORY PEDIGREE.
In the course of my live-stock experience, and especially during the excitement that prevailed amidst the routine of the hen-trade, I found myself constantly the recipient of scores and hundreds of the most ridiculously unreasonable and meaningless letters, from the fever-struck (and innocent) but uninitiated victims of this epidemic.
In England, amongst other nonsense bearing upon this subject, the more cunning poultry-keepers resorted to the furnishing of pedigrees for the birds they sold. This trick worked to admiration in Great Britain for a time, and the highest-sounding names were given to certain favorite fowls, the progeny of which ("with pedigree attached") commanded the most extravagant and ruinous prices, in the English "fancy" market.
For instance, I noticed in the London papers, in 1852, an account given of the sale of "two splendid cinnamon-colored chickens, out of the famous cock 'Jerry,' by the noted hen 'Beauty,' sired by 'Napoleon,' upon the well-known 'Queen Dowager,' grandsire 'Prince Albert,' on 'Victoria First,'" &c. &c., which brought the handsome sum of one hundred and sixty pounds (or about eight hundred dollars). And, soon afterwards, the same dodge was adopted on this side of the Atlantic. The "Porte-Monnaie I owe 'em Company" have now an advertisement in several New York and Western papers, concluding thus:
"To all who desire it, we will furnish authentic pedigrees of our stock of all descriptions, which may be relied on for their accuracy."
This sort of thing was rather too much for my naturally republican turn of mind; and, though I could endure almost anything in the humbug of this bubble, I couldn't swallow this. I received from New York State, one day, the following spicy epistle:
"Mr. Burnham.
"Sir: I have been a live-stock breeder for some years in this and the old country, and I was desirous to obtain only pure-blooded fowls when I ordered the 'Cochins' of you last month. I asked you for their pedigree. You have sent none. What does this mean? I paid you your price—seventy-five dollars—for three chickens. What have you sent me? Am I dealing with a gentleman? Or are you a mere shambles-huckster? What are these fowls bred from? Perhaps I may find myself called upon to speak more plainly, sir. I hope not. Who are you? I sent for a pedigree, and I want it. I must have it, sir. You will comprehend this, I presume. If you do not, I can enlighten you further. In haste,
"—— — ——."