THE HISTORY OF THE HEN FEVER. 183 



about this time, in Boston, and introduced himself, in his 

 own felicitous manner, something in this wise : 



" How are you ? Mr. Burnum, I suppose. My name is 

 T . I 'm from Phil'delphy." 



" Happy to see you, Mr. T ," I replied. " Take a 



seat, sir? " 



" I want to look at your fowls, Burnum," he continued, 

 n a rather bluff manner. " I know what poultry is, I 

 \hink. I've been at it, now, over thirty year ; and I 'd 

 lughter know what fowls is. You 're a humbug, Burnum ! 

 There's no doubt about that; and you're all a set of 

 aums, together — you hen-men ! I have n't got the fever. 

 [ 'm never disturbed by no such stupid nonsense. These 

 China fowls are an old story with irne. I had 'em twenty 

 years ago, — brought into Phil'delphy straight from Shang- 

 hae by a friend of mine." 



[This gentleman had forgotten, or didn't know (or 

 thought /didn't), that the port of Shanghae had been open 

 to communication with this country only a dozen years or 

 less ; and so I permitted him to proceed in his remarks 

 without offering any opposition to his assumption.] 



" These big fowls never lay no eggs, Burnum. You know 

 it as well as anybody. Do they ?" 



" None to hurt," I answered. 



"No, no — I reck'n not," continued my visitor. "/ 

 know 'em, like a book. Can't fool me with them. They 



