The press of the country, far and near, was alive with accounts of "extraordinary pullets," "enormous eggs" (laid on the tables of the editors), "astounding prices" obtained for individual specimens of rare poultry; and all sorts of people, of every trade and profession and calling in life, were on the _qui vive_, and joined in the hue-and-cry, regarding the suddenly and newly ascertained fact that hens laid eggs----_sometimes_; or, that somebody's crower was heavier, larger, or higher on the legs (and consequently higher in value), than somebody else's crower. And the first exhibition of the society with the long name came off duly, at last, as agreed upon by the people, _and_ myself.
"The _people_"! By this term is ordinarily meant the body-politic, the multitude, the citizens at large, the voters, the--the--a--the masses; the----well, no matter! At the period of which I am now writing, the term signified the "hen-men." This covered the whole ground, at that time. Everybody was included, and thus nobody was left outside!
At this first show, the committee "flattered themselves" (and who ever heard of, or from, a committee that didn't do this!) that never, within the memory of the oldest inhabitant,--who, by the way, was then living, but has since departed to that bourn from which even defunct hen-men do not return,--never had such a display been witnessed; never had the feathered race before appeared in such pristine beauty; never had any such exhibition been seen or read of, since the world begun! And, to say truth, it wasn't a very bad sight,--that same first hen-show in Boston.
Thousands upon thousands visited it, the newspapers appropriated column after column to its laudation, and all sorts of people flocked to the Public Garden to behold the "rare and curious and inexpressibly-beautiful samples" of poultry caged up there, every individual specimen of which had, up to that hour, been straggling and starving in the yards of "the people" about Boston (they and their progeny) for years and years before, unknown, unhonored and unsung.
Gilded complimentary cards, in beautifully-embossed envelopes, were duly forwarded by the "committee" to all "our first men," who came on foot or in carriages, with their lovely wives and pretty children, to see the extraordinary sight. The city fathers, the public functionaries, governors, senators, representatives, all responded to the invitation, and everybody was there.