in this talk on poultry than in the counsel of sages. The "chicken fever"
is more inevitable in a man's life than the chicken-pox, and sooner or
later all who are exposed succumb to it. Seeing the interest developing
in his neighbor's face, Leonard said, briskly:

"Mr. Alvord, here's an investment that will pay you to consider. The care
of poultry involves light and intelligent labor, and therefore is adapted
to those who cannot well meet the rough and heavy phases of outdoor work.
The fowls often become pets to their keepers, and the individual oddities
and peculiarities of character form an amusing study which is not wanting
in practical advantages. The majority of people keep ordinary barn-door
fowls, which are the result of many breeds or strains. The consequence is
almost as great diversity of character within gallinaceous limits as
exists in the families that care for them. For instance, one hen is a
good, persistent layer; another is a patient, brooding mother; a third is
fickle, and leaves her nest so often and for such long intervals that the
eggs become chilled, and incubation ceases. Some are tame and tractable,
others as wild as hawks, and others still are not of much account in any
direction, and are like commonplace women, who are merely good to count
when the census is taken."

"I hope you make no reference to present company," Maggie remarked.

Leonard gave his wife one of his humorous looks as he replied, "I never
could admit that in regard to you, for it would prove too much against
myself. The idea of my picking out a commonplace woman!"

"Leonard knows, as we all do, that he would be like a decapitated chicken
himself without her," said Mrs. Clifford, with her low laugh.