CHAPTER XXVIII.

BARNUM IN THE FIELD.

The prince of showmen was suddenly developed as a "hen-man"! Mr. Barnum was seized, one morning, with violent spasms, and, upon finding himself safely within the friendly shelter of "Iranistan," his physicians were duly consulted, who examined his case critically, and reported that the disease lay chiefly in the head of their patient--who, it was subsequently ascertained, was suffering from a severe attack of hen fever.

Such was the violence of the demonstrations in this gentleman's case, however, and so fearful were the indications with him, even during the incipient stages of the affection, that his friends feared that Phineas T. had really contracted his "never-get-over." But, upon being informed (as I was, soon afterwards) of this case, and questioned as to his probable eventual recovery, I unhesitatingly gave it as my opinion that his friends might rest assured the humbug that could kill _him_ was yet to be discovered; and that, so far as he was personally concerned, I entertained no sort of doubt that "he would feel much better when it was done aching." (A prediction which, I have no question, has been accurately fulfilled, ere this.)

The man who could succeed, as he had, with no-haired horses, gutta-percha mermaids, fat babies, etc., and who had gone into and out of fire-annihilators, prepared mastodons, illustrated newspapers, copper mines, defunct crystal palaces, and the like, unscathed, would scarcely be jeopardized by an attack of the prevailing malady of the day, however violently it might exhibit itself in his case. And so there was hope for Phineas, though his symptoms were really alarming.

My friend took the very best possible means for alleviating the virulence of his attack; and, looking about him for the largest-_sized_ humbug known in the trade, he alighted upon a two-hundred-and-forty-pound Connecticut joker, who quickly offered to inform him how he could find relief.

"How shall I do it, John?" exclaimed Phineas, as his fat friend made his appearance.

"Heesiest thing in life," responded John; "hall you 'ave to do is to put yer 'and in yer pocket."

"_So?_" said Phineas, putting his fist gently out of sight.

"No--you aren't deep enough down yet," replied John. "Go down deeper. That's better,--that'll do."

"How much'll it cost?" queried Phineas.

"Carn't say," responded John. "You're pooty bad. There's nuth'n' in _this_ country that'll cure you. Hi'll go hout to Hingland, if you say so, and hi can git somethin' there that'll 'elp you. It ar'n't to be 'ad in Ameriky, though."

"Sho!" exclaimed Barnum; "you don't say so! Do you think, John, that we could find something in England that would knock 'em, here?"

"Nothing else," replied John. "_Hi_ know where they keep 'em." (John was raised in Great Britain.)

"But, John," persisted Phineas, "there's _Burnham_, you know, of Boston. They say _he_ has the best poultry in the world; and I've no doubt of it, between you and I."

"Fudge!" exclaimed John; "Burn'am's a very clever fellow, hi've no manner o' doubt, and hi won't say nuth'n' ag'inst 'im; but 'ee's the wust 'umbug you _ever_ see, since you 'ad breath. 'Ee don't know the dif'rence 'tween a Shanghi and a Cochin-Chiny--an' never did. 'Ee's a _hum_, 'is Burn'am. Don't go near _'im_, unless you want the skin shaved hoff o' yer knuckles, clean."

"Well, John," said the show-man, "something must be done. I've got the fever, bad, I'm afraid, as you suggest; and it must be fed. What can you do for me?"

John thought the matter over, and it was finally agreed, as there were no good fowls in America (according to John's notions), that _he_ should be deputized by Phineas to proceed to "Hingland," and procure some genuine (that is, _pure_) stock, for the coops at Iranistan, at the liberal show-man's expense! A capital recipe, this, for Barnum's disease, as well as for John's own benefit.

But Phineas isn't taken down easy, though they do occasionally "fetch him." And so he hesitated. He thought the matter over a while, and finally said to his friend, one day,

"John, I've got it!"

"'Ave you?" says John.

"Yes, I've got it. You know I've something in my head besides grey hairs, John."

"Hi've no manner o' doubt o' _that_," replied John.

"Well, I have thought this thing over, and I have determined to see, first, what there is in America, before I send you out to Europe."

"It'll take you a long time to do that," said John, "and you'd 'ave to travel a great w'ile to see all the poultry we've 'ere."

"I won't travel at all," said Phineas.

"No? As 'ow, then?" inquired John.

"I'll get up a show--a poultry exhibition--on a grand scale, and it shall come off at my Museum, at New York. Everybody'll come, of course; and we can see what there is, buy what I want from the best of 'em, and make our selections as we may fancy; you shall go out afterwards to England, and obtain for me what I can't get here, you see."

"Capital!--hexellent!" responded John.

"And I'll call it the--the--_what_?" said Barnum, stopping for an appropriate title to this anticipated exhibition.

"I donno," said John, puzzled.

"Well--then--the _National Show_," continued Phineas. "How'll that do? The first exhibition of the 'National Poultry Society.' I think that's good. You see that includes all quarters of the country; and we shall know no north, no south, no east, no west! A quarter admission--Museum included--capital!"

"Yes--just _the_ thing!" chimed in his friend. And shortly afterwards advertisements and circulars found their way into the hands of all the hen-men in the country, who were thus invited to visit New York, in February, 1854, to contribute to the grand show of the "National Poultry Society," of which P.T. Barnum, Esq., was _President_.

A long string of names was attached to this call, and the list of "Managers" embraced one or more representatives from every State in the Union--my own humble name appearing among the Vice-presidents for Massachusetts.

The whole thing was clearly one of Barnum's _dodges_ to fill his Museum for a few days; and probably not a single individual except himself had any knowledge of the formation or existence of any such _society_ as this, of which he thus nominally appeared to be the presiding officer. At any rate, after diligent inquiry, I could never ascertain that anybody knew anything about any such an association, except himself.

However, this was a matter of no sort of consequence, of course. The Fitchburg Dépôt Show, in Boston, was a similar affair; and I now joined in this exhibition without asking unnecessary questions,--because I saw that there was fun ahead, and that _I_ could make an honest penny out of it, whether Barnum did or not.

Every one now put his best foot foremost; and, as this fair approached, Shanghaes were converted into Cochin-Chinas (by the knowing ones), by the removal of the feathers from the legs; the mongrels were made feathered-legged Bother'ems, by the free use of gum-tragacanth and down; the long-tailed fowls were deprived of all superfluous plumes, through the aid of the pincers; and what this last process did not satisfactorily effect, the application of the _shears_ completed (see engraving!); until, at last, the unlucky bipeds, whom nature had originally supplied with decent caudal appendages, were reduced to that requisite state of brevity, astern, which the _mode_ or the taste of the day demanded. And, at length, all was ready for the great "National Show" in New York city.

As it turned out, the whole thing (though an utter _sham_ as regarded its being a _society_ matter) proved to have been well conceived, and, from beginning to end, was admirably well carried out. Mr. Barnum did his part most creditably at this first show in New York, and the experiment was eminently successful.

The birds were afforded excellent care, and an immense quantity of good specimens found their way to the Museum at the appointed time. For a week, notwithstanding the very dull weather, the great rooms of the American Museum on Broadway were thronged with visitors; and Barnum was in high glee at the entire success of his undertaking.

Not content with one week's show of the fowls, Barnum proposed that it should be continued for six days longer; and the crowd continued to visit this exhibition for another week, and to pour in with their friends, their wives, their children, and their quarters, to the great edification and satisfaction of the proprietor of the show, and the "President" of the "National Poultry Society."

I was there, with a goodly quantity of my "rare" and "unexceptionable" and "pure-bred" fowls, which were greatly admired by the thousands of lookers-on, who flocked to this extraordinary exhibition. It was really astonishing (to _me_, at least) what very fine birds I had at this show.

And, "may be," fowls didn't _sell_ there! If I remember rightly, "the people" were round, on that occasion. And so was _I_!