"No! I will keep her."
And I did. What was five thousand dollars to me? Bah! I had the hen-cock "Fanny Fern." I didn't want money. My pocket-book was full to bursting, and so was my head with the excitement of the hen fever. And "Fanny" crowed again. Ah! what a crow was Fanny's!
"Fanny" couldn't be bought, and so my competitors clanned together to destroy her. The old fogies didn't like this breed, and they resolved to annihilate all chance of its perpetuation. I placed her in better quarters, where she would be more secure from intrusion or surprise. I told her of my fears,—and didn't she crow? She flapped her bright black wings, and crowed all over. "Cock-a-doodle-doo—oo—oo!" shouted "Fanny," while her sharp eyes twinkled, her fair throat trembled, and the exhilarating tone of defiance seemed to reach to the very tips of her shining toe-nails. "Cock-a-too—roo—oo!" she shrieked; "let 'em come, too! See what they'll do—oo! I'll take care of you—oo! Don't get in a stoo—oo! Pooh—pooh—poo—poo!"
Maybe "Fanny" didn't crow! And I learned to crow. It was beautiful! She crowed, and I crowed. We crowed together. She in her way,—I in mine. The duet was mellifluous, cheering, soul-stirring, life-invigorating, profitable.
"Fanny" went into New York State, crowing when she left, crowing as she went, and continuing to crow until she crowed the community there clear through the next fourth o' July, out into the fabled millennium. She crowed Messrs. Derby & Miller into a handsome fortune, and Mason & Brothers into ditto. She crowed one Hyacinth into the shreds of a cocked hat and battered knee-buckles. She crowed the Hall breed of old hens so far out of sight that the "search for Sir John Franklin" would be a fool to the journey requisite to overtake that family. And still she crowed.
The more they bade her stop, the more she wouldn't. "Cock-a-tootle—too!" "I-know-what-I-shall—doo!" "What-do-I-care-for—yoo?" "This-world-is-all—foo—foo." "Leave-me-and-I'll-leave—you." "If-not-I'll-lamm—you—too—oo!"
And "Fanny" crowed herself at last into the good graces of two long brothers in Gotham, where she is now crowing with all her might and main. Let her crow!
She was a remarkable "bird," that rollicking, joyous, inexplicable, flirting, funny, furious "Fanny Fern." I hear her now again!
"Cock-a-doodle—doo—oo!" "Young 'Un,—you-will-do!!" "Et—tu—Brute—o-o-o!!!"