CHAPTER XLIV. 



BURSTING OF THE BtTBBLB. 



My friend John Giles, of Woodstock, Conn., has some- 

 •where said, of late, " I often hear that the ' fowl ' fever is 

 dying out. If by this is meant the unhealthy excitement 

 which we have had for a few years past, for one, I say the 

 sooner that it dies out the better. But as to the enthusiasm 

 of true lovers of the feathered tribe dying out, it never will, 

 as long as man exists. It is part of God's creation. The 

 thinking man loves and admires his Maker's work ; always 

 did ; always will. And I have not the least doubt that any 

 enterprising young man, with a suitable place and fancier's 

 eye, would find it to his advantage to Embark in the enter- 

 prise of fowl-raising for market." 



Now, I don't know but John is honest in this assertion, — 

 that is, I can imagine that he believes in this theory ! But 

 how he can ever have arrived at such a conclusion (with 

 the results of his own experience before him), is more than 

 I can comprehend. 



Lajring aside all badinage, for the moment, I think it may 



