THE POULTRY-YARD. 



he comes to the back door for his special allowance, and 

 waits like the chupprassie ; only his martial figure is not to 

 be mistaken for that slouching satellite, and he does not 

 cough to attract my attention ; he just stands and com- 

 mands respect. If you offer him anything, he advances 

 and accepts it like a gentleman. He seems to weigh about 

 half a maund, weight of character included. 



To descend to meaner things, there are some comely 

 Bussorah fowls, large and deep-bodied, with bright eyes 

 and crested heads. These are the main body of my 

 establishment, for my experience is that, from a utilitarian 

 point of view, no hen obtainable in India compares with 

 the Bussorah. The kullum is tasty after death, but during 

 life it is quarrelsome and delicate. English fowls succumb 

 to the climate. Bussorahs are strong and healthy, flourish 

 in dust and heat, lay eggs, not homoeopathic pilules, and 

 do not insist on hatching them. In point of mind and 

 character they are like all other fowls, stupid and devoid 

 of individuality, each one a copy of the rest. The chief 

 exception, after the Sergeant, is Marco Polo, a sprightly 

 chicken of four months, which from its very infancy has 

 displayed a most ardent passion for travel and exploration. 

 In the heat of the day, when others are resting open- 



