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ft 9> B AS IN BARNUM 307 in view of a comment DeMille had written on the face of a re- jected article: I thought I had an interesting life until I began reading your articles. 7. ONE of the fee-simple tenants on the DeMille ranch Paradise was a peacock named Henry. He was not the only one of his species; years ago scores had been imported to the moun- tainous retreat by DeMille. Soon there were hundreds of the vain creatures strutting about, for Henry and a few compatriots of equally sturdy drumstick were not fettered by any foolish notions of celibacy, Henry measured up to every romantic obli- gation—with the result that the region teemed with his issue. In fact so magnificent were his feats of paternity that the lin- eage became obscured, and there were occasions when offspring would pass without so much as a nod at their great sire. Henry had other marks of distinction, in recognition of which fate one day was to set him out as a marked peacock. Mr. DeMille's interest in the bird of legend went back a long way. As a boy his appreciation of peacocks was encouraged by the family's Sunday visits to the art museums in New York. The elder DeMille may have directed Cecil and Bill to the old mas- ters for more aesthetic reasons; still, Cecil could not help observ- ing the gorgeous peacocks in the background of many a famous painting, particularly the outsized one atop the stable in Fra Angelico's "Adoration of the Magi/' It appeared, however, that the first real spark of his admiration was struck years later when he ran across a copy of the London Journal containing a color photograph of a shapely lass in an all peacock-feather gown. It was on that day that Henry's destiny was inexorably shaped. In proper season, Henry was a moulting fool. Sometimes De-