AN IMPORTED HEN.|1878-01-12|The Cardigan Observer and General Advertiser for the Counties of Cardigan Carmarthen and Pembroke - Welsh Newspapers Online
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THE ONLY SON.

THE STRANGE CLAIMANT; OR,…

A LESSON FOR ALL.

LADIES' COLUMN.II

AN IMPORTED HEN.

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AN IMPORTED HEN. The committee, determined to make the most of the cdd contribution, had decided on putting it up for sale, and a real auctioneer undertook to preside, and to do his best. Imported hen to be sold this day by public auction." The poor old biddy, "white with the snows of many winters," was exposed to view in her cage of wicker, right over the refreshment stall. Two eggs (boiled) taken from the counter were placed in the cage with her Mr. Sanders, the auctioneer, mounted the rostrum pro- vided for him, amid the cheers of the impatient spectators, who fancied they were about to hear the past history and pedigree of this remarkable fowl. He held aloft the caged bird for some minutes, turning it round and about, that all eyes might see and be satisfied. Then, putting it on the stand before him, he took up his hammer, and began. Ladies and gentlemen, I have the ecstatic pleasure of display- ing before you this imported hen-a hen of most rare ana unattainable qualities-a hen that can't be beat, even with a stick, unless you first take her out of the cage—a hen that is supposed to be of the best breed of hens extant—an im-port-ed hen -im-port-ed I 8ay-" If you please, sir," interposed a timid voi e, "where's she imported from ?" Ah replies Mr. Sanders, if I only con- sidered myself at liberty to tell you, I think I may safely say you would be surprised. You've heard of the countries over the sea—California—Kamschatka -Guinea Land-Jericho-well, I don't say she is from any one of them, orwhichothersheis from only I do say you might be surprised. An im-port ed hen Who'll give a bid ? This hen is be sold for the good of the cause. She's a hen that will fetch just what she'll bring, and no mistake -a real, live, jolly, happy old hen. See her laugh A facetious old hen, I tell you. Hear her chuckle! A profitable old hen-is said to have laid fifteen eggs in ten days, and sometimes a good many more. Finest old hen to be found this side of-Poland. Who makes the first bid ?" Half-a-crown"—from a farmer's wife. "Half-a-crown. Thank you, ma'am. Half-a-crown I am bid. Grand old hen! The like of it not to be found outside this cage-fifteen eggs in ten days I-an egg and a half a day! Half-a-crown for the best white hen—the oldest and the wisest. Knows how to lay as many eggs again as a youne and silly pullet—tough and strong-better constitution than hens that are not imported—evidently stands migra- tion well. Look at her! Never suffered from sea- sickness, as our simple hens might suffer; never made a wry face or lost a meal-when she could get it. Grand old hen! Who doubles the bid ?" Five shillings." Five shillings. Many thanks, sir. Here's this beautiful im-port-ed hen going for five shillings. A real, live, white hen. Wbat a chance to possess her!" Seven and sixpence." Seven and sixpence.' Thadk you, Sir Thomas. Only three half-crowns gentlemen, for this beautiful specimen of the feathered tribe! Who'll seize, upon this rare oppor- tunity and bid me another ?" "Ten shillings." Ten and sixpence." Twelve shillings." Twelve and sixpence." Twelve and sixpence. Five half-crowns, gentlemen. Going at twelve and sixpence—the finest fowl in featherdom-lays an egg and a-half a day-as they say—and sometimes probably two and a-half. Here are two boiled eggs laid to-day, gentle- men and ladies-rare hen—very rare hen — going at "Thirteen shillings." Going at thirteen shillings. Who'll eay fifteen? Can't afford to sell an imported hen so cheap—who'll give me fif- teen-" "Fifteen." "Fifteen. Many thanks, ma'am." Sixteen." Seventeen." Seventeen. Thank you, young sir. Seventeen shillings I am bid I for this rare old imported hen—eighteen shillings, thank you, sir—eighteen and sixpence, great thanks. Who-" Twenty shillings." Twenty shillings for this magnificent hen. Now you begin to speak I up, gentlemen. One pound I am bid"for the best im- ported hen to be found on the ground. Going— going at twenty shillings—who'll give me the twenty- five ?—going for the good of its country, a fine old white-feathered domestic bird, the pride of the' poultry-yard; staid and well- mannered worth dozens of your wild young tra-h—going—going Twenty-five." Twenty-five shillings I am bid— j twenty-five. Why, gentlemen, are you going to look on and sec this splendid specimen of live stock thrown away ?—absolutely thrown away ? Going at twenty- five shillings! Make another bid, gentlemen! Think of those poor afflicted soldiers and what not, perhaps this very day lying mangled and bleeding before St. Petersburg or Twenty-six." Twenty-six j thanks — going at twenty-six. This fine, rare, im port ed hen going at Twenty seven. "The gentleman bids twenty-seven. A thousand thanks. Going for twenty-seven shil- lings. Will nobody bid more?" No response. Goin?—going—gone Knocked down to you, Mr. Jones, at twenty-seven shillings. Sold dirt cheap. F-i-n-e im-port-ed hen Given for the pure love of the cause," and Mr. Sanders handed down the caged bird. Put her up again," said Mr. Jones, returning the sum for which he was indebted. Yes, put her up again," shouted the laughing crowd. Again j the white imported ben was put up and sold off at a good price-but not so much aa before. Again the money was paid down, and again the ancient fowl was given back to be resold. For six or eight successive times she was struck off for a few shillings, bringing grist to the bazaar, and producing an amount of fun too great to be estimated. Fifty-six shillings in round numbers did that old white hen pro- duce, and her purchaser was the farmer's wife who had made the first bid. Mrs. Palmerstone bore her prize off in triumph. Some chaffing was being ex- changed b.-otwtien the auctioneer and his friends, when' be suddenly threw himself back with a tragic air, his elevated position enabling him to see what they could not. Spirit of despair! What do I behold cried he. That imported hen again! Can't I get rid of her! I've sold her more than half-a-dozen times already." Put her up again! Put her up! Put her up shouted the mirthful crowd. True enough. Mrs. Palmerstone was bringing back the hen. One of the ladies in the secret had incautiously disclosed to her the truth--that it was old Cart wright's white hen. Saying nothing, but not liking to be laughed at, she brought back the prize aid presented it for the general good. Once more the hen was put up. The room now was in one roar of laughter. Her pur- chaser was a popular clergyman. Knocked down to you, reverend sir," cried the auctioneer;" I'm sure she Ought to bring you luck. But, look here just you stay a bit, Mr; Dawson." The Rev. Mr. Dawson, then carrying off the cage, turned round his laughing face. You bought the hen, you know, sir; that beautiful im-port-ed hen, but you didn't buy the cage. We must put up that." Mr. Dawson, taking out the hen, banded the cage to the auctioneer.-The White Hen, in the Argoty.

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