150 THE HISTORY OF 



" What breed is it?" I inquired. 



"Spanker," said the gentleman, "but rare. It is one 

 of BUett's importation — genuine." 



" Remarkable pullet ! " I ventured. 



"Hen, sir, hen" insisted the stranger. 



I paid him forty dollars down, and seized my prize, 

 though she proved hard to catch. 



" She 's much like the Frenchman's flea, sir," said her 

 previous possessor, "Put your finger on her, and she's 

 never there. Feed her well, however, keep her in good 

 quarters, let her do as she pleases, and she '11 always crow 

 — always, sir. Hear that ? You can't stop her, unless 

 youfltop her breath. She always crows and sings. There 

 it is again ! Isn't that a crow, for a hen — eh ? " 



It was, indeed. 



"Good-day," said the Brookline gentleman, quietly 

 pocketing his money. " Fanny will please you, I 've no 

 doubt." 



"Fanny?" I queried. 



" Yes ; I call her ' Fanny Fern,' " said th4 stranger to 

 me, as I entered my wagon ; and, half an hour afterwards, 

 my forty-dollar cock-hen, "Fanny Fern," was crowing 

 again furiously, lustily, magnificently, on the bright-green 

 lawn beneath my own parlor-windows. 



" Fanny " proved a thorough trump. Bantams, Games, 

 Cochins, Dorkings, Shstnghaes, Bother'ems, were wowhere 



