I almost always had "better ones." That was the kind I always kept behind, or for my own use. I rarely sent away these better ones until they cried for 'em! I always had a great many of the "best" ones, too; which were even better than those "better" ones for which the demand had come to be so great!
Strange to say, everybody got to want better ones, at last; and, finally, I had none upon my premises but this very class of birds—to wit, the "better ones." To be sure, I reserved a very few pairs of the best ones, which could be obtained at a fair price; but these were the ones that would "take down" the fanciers, occasionally, who wanted to beat me with them at the first show that came off. But I didn't sleep much over this business. I always had one cock and three or four hens that the boys didn't see—until we got upon the show-ground. Ha, ha!
A stranger called at my house, one Sunday morning, just as I was ready with my family for church. He apologized for coming on that day, but couldn't get away during the week. He had never seen the Grey Shanghaes—didn't know what a Chinese fowl was—had no idea about them at all. He wanted a few eggs—heard I had them—wouldn't stop but a moment—saw that I was just going out, &c. &c. He sat down—was sorry to trouble me—wouldn't do so again—would like just to take a peep at the fowls—when, suddenly, as he sat with his back close to the open window, my old crower sent forth one of those thundering, unearthly, rolling, guttural shrieks, that, once heard, can never be forgotten!
The stranger leaped from his chair, and sprang over his hat, as he yelled,
"Good God! what's that?"
His face was as white as his shirt-bosom.
"That's one of the Grey Shanghaes, crowing," I replied.
"Crow! I beg your pardon," he said; "I don't want any eggs—no! I'll leave it to another time. I—a—I couldn't take 'em now; won't detain you—good-morning, sir," he continued; and, rushing out of my front door, he disappeared on "a dead run," as fast as his legs could carry him. And I don't know but he is running yet. He was desperately alarmed, surely!
I was so amused at this incident, that I was in a precious poor mood to attend church that morning. And when my friend the minister arose at length, and announced for his text that "the wicked flee when no man pursueth," those words capped the climax for me.