The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1894-11-01
A GAMY PLYMOUTH ROCK.
1t Didn't Allow Itself to BE Snuffed Out
as the Old Man Expected


as the Old Man Expected.
When he came into the car. every
body noticed he carried basket COW
cred with an old newspaper. He SEX
lected seat far to the rear, and the
train moved on out of the station.
Presently q queer noise came from
the basket. There was a futtering
sound, and then the old newspaper
was torn off, and the man grabbed at
a splendid looking game rooster and
kept 1t from scrambling out of the
basket. For some time the man had
to work hard to keep the rooster
quiet. Finally the bird decided to
settle down, and then man a few
seats forward, who had been watch
ing the performance, moved back,
and taking seat next the man with
the fighting cock remarked:
Whats yer bird weigh?"
The man with the rooster told
him, and then the other asked:
"S'pose yer goin to have scrap?"
"Well," said the man with the
bird, I'm not sport. own a,little
farm down here, and I'm fond of
chickens. I've got several rare ones,
and did have several more, but I've.
got a young Plymouth Rock roost-
err
Here the man smiled grimly. He
patted the game cock on the back.
The bird clucked and futtered lit
tie and then settled down. The man
resumed:
This Plymouth Rock1zonce in
awhile you find one that way-is
scrapper from way back. He's only
II months old, but he has killed more
chickens for me than I like to think
about. First, it was funny to see
him tackle some loud mouthed fell
low and lay him low, and I rather
admired the Plymouth, but when
one day he jumped at a fine Cochin
China and killed him the first dash
/ rather felt like killing him. l
didn't, however, but next day l wish
ed I had, for he tackled speckled
Brahma-the only one in this part of
the state-and before I could inter
fere the Brahma was giving his last
gasps. That bird cost me $50, and
then l determined to get even.
This here game rooster belongs
to friend of mine He has never
lost a battle, and I'll tell you what
I'm going to do. I'm not a sport, but
there's fellow near me who is, and
he can rig up gaffs. I'm going to put
pair on this bird. Then I'm going
to have him kill the young Plymouth
Rock. hate to chop the things
head off, so I'll give him half
chance for his life. Of course he'll
really have no show, you know, be-
cause this is science bird and will
do him before he can turn, but I'm
mad at the lad, and he's got to go.
This Plymouth Rock by the way,
has no spurs He did, however, have
a,bill like an alligator's mouth, but
I've clipped that, so I'm going to
take no chances with the outcome of
the battle"
but" interposed the other man,
suppose your Plymouth Rock
should kill this bird?"
"Pshaww calculated the man.
you don't know what this lad can
do. WHY
But he evidently couldn't find
words to express his opinion of the
proves of the game cock. He mere
ly stroked the proud bird and then
prepared to leave the train, which
was nearing his station. The man
who had heard the story wanted to
know how the war came out, so he
handed the other his card, asking him
to send to his Chicago address q brief
note with the result of the plot. The
chicken fancier agreed to this.
! The man got home week later.
In his mail was postal card. On it
were these words:
plymouth Rock killed the game
cock first dash out of the box. Cost
me $25. Ate the Plymouth Rock to-
day."-Ch:cago Tribune.
Dreams of OdOrs.
A correspondent in Dedham, who