We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
308 fes, Mr. DeMille Mille himself, but more often the workers at the ranch, stalked the vain bird up crevice and slope to retrieve the magnificent "eyed" feathers that fell from Henry's sturdy frame. These were carefully preserved for the day when Mr. DeMille would en- counter a heroine worthy to wear a creation ornamented with the iridescent plumes, Thus Henry's burnished feathers were stored for years. In time the DeMille flock dwindled to a mere handful but no marked change could be observed in Henry. He ruled with the air of a monarch conscious of the comparative weakness of his subjects. As a Don Juan his performances were incendiary, his chivalry ft entrance. Peacocks are accustomed to roosting alone. However, on nights when the moon was high and the spirit of amour was afield, he took to a high limb with his harem, usually two or three awestruck females. Henry rarely was ob- served in the gloaming with fewer than five peahens in attend- ance. As if rallying attention to himself, he would let out the shrill peacock cry, sending small fowl into frightened refuge among the shrubs. It is a startling cry to ears that have never heard it, a harsh piercing scream as of mortal distress. It could not be interpreted as distress in Henry's case, for no one would contest Henry's mastery, no matter how aggravated were the demands upon his powers in the course of a single evening. The love season found him the center of a circle of admiring pea- hens, meek and myopic little creatures, their garb as drab as sackcloth. He staged these exhibitions in the plot of grass west of the main house, and when his audience was large enough and possibly deferential enough he would spread his great fan, then turn slowly about with a kind of deliberate majesty. This, too, was a facet of his understanding nature, for it provided some- thing other than a rear view for the spectators on the porch. DeMille, sensitive to things that bespeak showmanship, was of the opinion Henry would have been an unbearable prude were it not for one thing. "He would strut around until his eyes fell upon his ridiculous feet and his pride would suffer a com-