CHAPTER XXIII.
CONVALESCENCE.
One striking feature that exhibited itself in the midst of this mania, was the fact that prominent among the leading dealers in fancy poultry, constantly appeared the names of clergymen, doctors, and other "liberally-educated" gentlemen.
In Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, and most of the Eastern States, this circumstance was especially noticeable; and more particularly in England. Whether this class of the community had the most money to throw away, or whether their leisure afforded them the better opportunity to indulge in this fancy, I cannot say; but one thing is certain,—among my own patrons and correspondents, for the past five or six years, I find the names of this class of "the people" by far the most conspicuous and frequent.
There came into my office, one morning late in 1853, a Boston physician (whom I had never seen before), who introduced himself civilly, and invited me to ride a short distance with him up town. I was busy; but he insisted, and his manner was peculiarly urgent and determined.
"My carriage is at the door," he said; "and I will bring you back here in twenty minutes. I have some pure-blood stock I desire to dispose of."
"What is it, doctor?" I asked.
"Chickens, chickens!" replied the doctor, briefly.
I assured the gentleman that I had near a thousand fowls on hand at this time, and had no possible wish to increase the number.
"They are pure-bred—cost me high," he continued; "are very fine, but I must part with them—come!"