VERMONT AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 69 



POULTRY AND EGG PRODUCTION. 



By Henry Van Dreser, Cobleskiix, N. Y. 



(From an address delivered before the Vermont State Board of Ag- 

 riculture at Burlington, Vt., January 15th, 1904.) 

 Mr. President and Brother Farmers: 



I am to talk upon a very small thing this morning — something as 

 small as a hen — usually beneath the dignity of the farmers at large ia 

 the different States. 



Solomon said, "In the multitude of counsellors there is safety." Now. 

 that is just as true to-day as it was centuries ago. Here this morning 

 we have a multitude in counsel. The different counties of this State 

 are represented, and I understand that they are all farmers or that way 

 inclined. 



Now, as we pay a little attention to poultry, do we realize the fact 

 that there is more money in poultry, for the amount invested, than in 

 any other business along the line of agriculture? Yet it is the most 

 neglected. 



In my boyhood I was made happy by administering to the wants of the 

 little pets of the farm. My father was very lenient to my brother and 

 me. We kept chickens, rabbits, squirrels, etc. As a rule, on Saturdays, 

 when there was no school, the boys in the neighborhood would come 

 over to our place to have a good time. They had to go away from 

 home to have a good time, you see, and they came to our house. We 

 enjoyed those Saturdays at home. Our surroundings were pleasant, 

 and I know it made us better boys — it gave us thought along those 

 lines that were beneficial to us. But as I grew into manhood I had an 

 idea it took something as large as a cow to make a dollar out of. Al- 

 though we paid for a home through the dairy cow, we are now engaged 

 in poultry, also. 



There was no culture in the poultry department then, and there was 

 no money in the business. We kept between 200 and 250 hens, but we 

 never gathered in the eggs in the winter — because there were none to 

 gather; that is a mighty good reason. And we never watered a hen 

 until about nine years ago. We never thought that a hen got dry. I 

 know men do, for I have been dry myself. We never set a hen — she 

 always set herself. If she changed her mind, it was all right; that was 

 her privilege. 



Then, when we were doing our hay harvesting, we were so busy that 

 we would not gather the eggs for a week, and sometimes two weeks, 

 and only then when our wives would call our attention to it. saying they 

 ranted some groceries. Well, we would take a basket under our arm 



