P. T. Barnum

“ I was anxious to get a chance of exposing to Adams his weak point, and of showing him the absurdity of telling such ridiculous stories. A fit occasion soon presented itself. One day, while engaged in my office at the Museum, a man with marked Teutonic features and accent approached the door and asked if I would like to buy a pair of living golden pigeons.
“Yes,” I replied, “I would like a flock of ‘golden pigeons,’ if I could buy them for their weight in silver; for there are no golden pigeons in existence, unless they are made from the pure metal.” ”

“ The next morning, “Old Grizzly Adams,” whose exhibition of bears was then open in Fourteenth street, happened to be passing through the Museum, when his eyes fell on the “Golden California Pigeons.” He looked a moment and doubtless admired. He soon after came to my office.
“Mr. B,” said he, “you must let me have those California pigeons.”
“I can t spare them,” I replied.
“But you must spare them. All the birds and animals from California ought to be together. You own half of my California menagerie, and you must lend me those pigeons.” ”

“ Six or eight weeks after this incident, I was in the California Menagerie, and noticed that the “Golden Pigeons” had assumed a frightfully mottled appearance. Their feathers had grown out, and they were half white. Adams had been so busy with his bears that he had not noticed the change. I called him up to the pigeon cage, and remarked:
“Mr. Adams, I fear you will lose your Golden Pigeons; they must be very sick; I observe they are turning quite pale!” ”