As soon as order was comparatively restored, other gentlemen, whom the President introduced as "honorable," and "talented," and "professional," and "influential," took the rostrum, and "followed suit" upon Barnum's lead.
A vote of thanks was finally passed to Mr. Barnum for his services, and the sacrifices he had made in behalf of the "Society;" another to the "orator" of the day (whose name I have now forgotten), formerly a member of Congress, I believe; another similar vote to the Secretary, to whom, also, a plated jug was subsequently presented; a vote to Mr. Burnham, of Boston, for his speech and his "magnificent" contributions of pure-bred stock; a vote condemning everybody who had or should thenceforward nickname fowls; a vote of condolence and sympathy with John Giles, because none of his pure Black Spanish fowls were in the exhibition; a vote to Porter, of the New York Spirit of the Times, for his disinterested notices of the show; another to Greeley, of the Tribune, who hadn't time to visit it; another to pay the bills of the "Committees" at the Astor House (minus the champagne charges!); another to Dr. Bennett, for not being present at this show; another endorsing the claims of patent pill-venders and cross-grained bee-hive makers; another to Frank Pierce, for the allusions in his inaugural to the "march of progress" in our land, which of course included Shanghae-ism; another to Caleb Cushing (an honorary member), who was lauded as the most thoroughly graceless humbug known to the "national" society; another endorsing the collector and postmaster of Boston as disinterested democrats; another that my "Grey Shanghaes" were evidently the only full-blooded fowls exhibited at the American Museum on this occasion; and numerous other resolves were duly "voted," of which no note was taken at the time.
While this bosh was transpiring, I sent to Boston for some fifty pairs more of my "superb" specimens of Shanghaes and Cochins, all of which were disposed of during the second week of this show, at curiously "ruinous" rates. And at the close of the exhibition my agent had taken very nearly three thousand dollars for the "pure" Shanghaes, and Cochins, and Greys, he had sold there for my account!
I trust that every one was as well satisfied with the results of this first exhibition of the "National Poultry Society" as I was. It is the last show I shall ever attend. And having invariably taken the lead, from the beginning up to this trial, I retired, content with the self-assurance that I had made all I could make out of this sort of thing, and that the field now legitimately belonged to my juniors in the profession. May success attend them!
At the close of the exhibition, my friend Barnum congratulated me.
"They tell me you've done well, Burnham," said my friend, cheerfully. "I'm glad of it. And, since you've made it so handsomely, suppose you leave me a couple of your best Fancy Rabbits, yonder; I'll add them to the 'Happy Family.'"
"Certainly," I replied. "With great pleasure, B——. And, since you have done so capitally with this show, you shall give me a quarter of your profits on the tickets sold. Here—take the rabbits!"
"A-hem!" said Barnum. "No—no. It's no matter. You needn't—no—we won't say anything about it. It's all right. You'll do. You can run alone, I guess. I believe I don't spell my name right! Good-by—good-by."
I haven't seen friend Barnum since.
At this exhibition of poultry I managed to show a pair of my pure-bred Suffolk pigs, too, which did not set me back any. I took numerous orders for these animals, and I have given on page [174] what passes for a likeness of a fancy "Shanghae" fowl, such as we "read of in the newspapers," and which everybody, during the last five years, imagined he was buying, when he ordered "such," after seeing the "pictur'."