Chapter XLI: The Fate of the "model" Shanghaes

Napoleon, the great, found himself compelled to succumb to adverse fate, at the end of a long and brilliantly triumphant career. "It was destiny," he said; and he bowed to the fiat; which at last he was unable successfully to dodge.

I was the fortunate owner of a pair of fine Shanghae fowls, that were universally acknowledged to be "at the head of the crowd,"--so far as there was any beauty or attractive qualities, whatever, in this species of animal,--and I thought they were not bad-looking birds, really.

I caused a likeness to be taken of them from life, accurately, and it was placed, some years since, at the head of the circulars which I always enclosed back to my correspondents, in reply to their favors and inquiries regarding my views as to what was the _best_ kind of domestic bird for breeding.

The cock was very handsomely formed, and when in full feather was exceedingly showy, and graceful, and noble in his carriage. His hen companions were fine, too; but there was one in particular, that, in company with this bird, I showed at several fairs, where they invariably carried away the first premium, without any question or cavil as to comparative beauty and merit. I named them "Napoleon" and the "Empress."

Their joint weight, when in the best condition, was about twenty-two pounds; and as the "fancy" then raged, they were really unexceptionable. I "donno" how many chickens I have sold by means of the _pictures_ of these birds, but I _do_ know that, unfortunately, this particular hen never laid an egg while I owned her, which was some two years. Still, she was very handsome, as was also her husband; and I certainly raised a great many fine chickens while they were in my yards. I called them my very best,--and they were, indeed, to look at,--_a model pair of Shanghaes_, as will be seen by a glance at their portraits on the next page.

But they were singled out for a curious fate. At two or three of our early fairs they had taken the first prizes; and at one of the exhibitions, finally, there chanced to come along a gentleman who fancied them exceedingly, and who was bound to possess himself of the best that could be had. He had a long purse (though, at the time _he_ bought, prices were not up to the mark they reached subsequently, by a long margin); and when he offered forty dollars for this "model" pair, it was thought, by most of the outsiders, to be a fabulous transaction altogether, made up between us to aid in gulling "the people." However, he paid his money for them, sent them off, and the following account of their subsequent fate is thus touchingly furnished by my friend "Acorn," who chanced to be "in at the death":

"The gentleman who became the fortunate purchaser of these fine
fowls had come to the city in the morning for the purpose of
posting himself up generally, and to procure a pair of these then
very desirable birds, though he did not imagine that he would be
called upon to come down so 'werry han'some' for a single pair. He
saw these, however, and visions of brilliant promise loomed up
before him, if he could contrive to obtain them, however high a
figure this 'magnificent' twain might be held at. As soon as he
secured them, he felt that his fortune was made.

"He calculated to remain in town until evening, and, sitting down,
he hastily wrote a note to the keeper of a fashionable hotel in
T---- street, informing him that he would dine with him, and that
the bearer would deliver him a pair of nice chickens, which he
desired him to take charge of. He also directed the boy (to whom he
gave this note and the coop) to say that he would take dinner with
his friend at four P.M.; and, sending up the fowls, he turned to
other matters, for the day.

"Arriving at the hotel, the youngster found the landlord, and said,

"'Here's a pair of rousing big chickens Mr. M----s has sent up; and
he says he'll be here to dine with you at four o'clock,'

"The landlord supposed that his friend knew a hawk from a handsaw,
as well as a canvass-back from a broiled owl; and believed that he
had 'sent up' something a little extra for the proposed dinner. He
therefore ordered the two birds to be placed in the hands of the
cook, and gave directions also to have these 'model Shanghaes'
killed and dressed at once, for the proposed dinner, to come off at
four o'clock P.M.!

"This order was promptly obeyed; and at the hour appointed the
chicken-fancier made his appearance, in company with a few of the
'boys,' and the dinner was served up with due accompaniments. After
indulging in sundry wine bitters, as a sharpener to their
appetites, the snug party sat down to table, and the liberal owner
of the forty-dollar Shanghaes was politely invited to carve. While
in the act of dissecting those enormous 'members of the late hen
convention,' the amateur remarked,

"''Pon my word, Major, you've a noble pair of chickens here, to be
sure.'

"'Yes, yes,' responded the Major. 'I think they _are_ an
indifferently good-sized pair of birds. They were sent up to me,
to-day, by a mutual friend of ours. I think we shall find them
choice.'

"'A present, eh?' said the owner, unwittingly. 'A very clever
fellow our friend must be, Major. Capital,--really!' And as he
finally commenced to enjoy the feast, he added, 'I declare they are
very fine, and of the most delicious flavor I ever tasted. Juicy,
too,--juicy as a canvass-back.'

"Thus continued the victim, praising the rich excellence of the
birds, until at last he had bagged a bottle or more of sparkling
Schreider. While chatting over their Sherry, at last, and enjoying
the rich aroma of their regalias, the now unlucky owner of the
model Shanghaes suddenly said,

"'By the way, Major, speaking of fowls, what do you think of my
hen-purchase, this morning? Aren't they good 'uns?'

"'Well, Bill,' rejoined his friend, 'I think they were delicious.
And I won't mind if you dine with me every day in the week,
provided you can send me up such chickens as those!'

"'_Such_ chickens!' exclaimed Bill, astounded, as the thought for
the first time flashed upon him that he might possibly now have
been dining upon his 'model Shanghaes.' 'Why, Major, what the deuce
do you mean?'

"'Mean?' replied the Major; 'nothing,--only to say--without any
intention of disturbing your nerves,--that we have just finished a
most capital dinner upon those nice Shanghaes that you sent up to
me, this morning.'

"'_What!_' yelled Bill, jumping wildly up from the table; 'what do
you say, Major?'

"'Those Shanghaes--'

"Bill groaned, rammed his hands clean up to the elbows into his
breeches-pockets, and, after striding fiercely across the room some
half a dozen times, without uttering another word, but with his
eyes all this time 'in a fine frenzy rolling,' he stopped short,
and, turning to the Major, he exclaimed, with no little
gesticulation,

"'Good God, Major, you don't mean to say you're serious, now?'

"'Nothing else, Bill. What's the matter?'

"'Why, _I paid forty dollars for that pair of chickens, this
morning, at the hen-show_!'

"'You did!'

"'Yes. Didn't that stupid boy give you my note, when he left the
chickens?'

"'Not a note; not even a due-bill,' said the Major, provokingly.

"'I mean my letter,' continued Bill.

"'No,' said the Major, 'he gave me no letter; he simply delivered
the fowls, and informed me that you would dine with me at four P.M.
I thought, of course, you would like them thus, and so I had 'em
roasted.'

"Bill didn't stop for further explanations, but rushed for his
horse and wagon, and wasn't seen in the city but once afterwards,
for a long time. He was then closely muffled up, and had both his
ears stopped up with cotton-batting, lest he might possibly hear
some one say _Shanghae_!

"A few weeks afterwards, while passing near his residence, I
halted, and dropped in upon him for an hour; and, after a while, I
ventured to touch upon the merits and beauties of the different
breeds of poultry;--but I discovered, at once, that there was a
wildness about Bill's eyes, and therefore ceased to allude to this
usually interesting 'rural' subject, as Bill exclaimed,
imploringly,

"'Don't hit me, old boy, now I'm down! _That chicken dinner has
never yet digested!_'"

Thus "passed away" one of the handsomest pairs of domestic fowls ever seen in this part of the country, and which were well known, by all the fanciers around me, as tip-top specimens of the then lauded race of Shanghaes.

This result proved rather an expensive dinner for Mr. M----s; but, while it served for an excellent lesson to him (as well as to many of his friends who chanced to hear of what the Major called "this capital joke"), he had the satisfaction, subsequently, of ascertaining that he got off at a remarkably low figure. _His_ hen fever was very quickly, and fortunately, cured. But for this sudden and happy turn in his case, the disease _might_ have cost him far more dearly.

The fowls he thus lost were what were then deemed "tall specimens;" but they did not, in this respect, equal those of a neighbor, who declared that a young Shanghae cock of his grew so high on the leg, that he got to be afraid of him; and, instead of eating him, one day while the rooster was in a meditative mood, he contrived to place a twenty-feet ladder beside him, and, mounting it, managed to blow out the monster's brains, greatly to the owner's relief.