374 



JOURNAL OF HOETICULTUBE AND COTTAGE GAEDENER. 



( November 12, 1869. 



tier after tier of sheaves is removed and put into the jaws of 

 the threshing machine. At last every refuge fails, and the 

 poor vermin are obliged to run, for the verj' last sheaves are 

 being lifted. That is the time for a terrier to show his fliill. 

 Men brandish sticks, boys shout, and run after the running 

 rats. A coward dog cries about his bitten nose, he having 

 made one clumsy attempt at killing a rat and, has made up his 

 little mind never to try again ; while, on the contrary, the 

 practised, business-like, bold terrier kills, and kills, and kills, 

 losing not a moment of time. It is a nip and a toss, then 

 another rat is nipped and tossed, and then another, faster than 

 you can read this account. It is an exciting scene, and a good 

 rat dog acts like a good surgeon, cleverly and quickly doing his 

 work. 



But if Pincher had his virtues he had his vices too, nnd they, 

 alas ! were the result of his intercourt^e with man. He was, I 

 am ashamed to have to wiite it, a taught thief ; but as he stole 

 not for himself, but for his master, so 



*' E'en his failiuKS leaned to virtue's side. ' 

 To our great surprise, Pincher one day brought home a pound 

 of butter, and laid it, not in the least injured, for he had a 

 very tender mouth, at our feet, looking up expecting to be 

 " highly commended," for his eyes and ears and tail showed 

 very evidently that he thougbt he had performed a very meri- 

 torious action. A mutton chop was brought another day, a 

 piece of cheese another, and so on. 



Poor dog ! He had been trained by a dishonest master to steal, 

 and so he stole for me. I watched his method of proceeding. 

 He would stand on the top step of a butcher's shop door, one 

 forefoot raised, and his eyes peering in. So long as the butcher 

 ■was looking his way, he did no more than look in, but when 

 butcher and customer had both turned their backs, then 

 Pincher bolted in, and invariably chose a very nice piece of meat. 

 Home then he came, as to eat the meat or even gnaw it, that 

 never entered his thoughts ; he was a disinterested thief. With 

 more truth than FalstafI, poor Pincher might have said, 

 " Convey the wise it call," for he simply conveyed eatables 

 from one house to another. To return the thing stolen was not 

 always possible, as Pincher did not always deal at one shop. 

 Soon this thieving became a nuisance. Irate fast-trotting 

 butcher boys followed Pincher with cracking whips, but never 

 caught him. The grocer's youngest apprentice appeared at our 

 door in a highly excited mood demanding stolen butter or 

 cheese, or once a blacking-brush. The dog was beaten, but he 

 utole all the more, thinking that he had not stolen enough to 

 please. It was not pleasant to ride past a shop with the dog at 

 one's heels, and to hear, " Look out, there goes the thief," 

 the words seemed to have a personal sound. At length, 

 gradually, very gradually, Pincher was taught better. Somehow 

 it was made to enter his head that not to steal at all was the 

 right thing, and to steal was the wrong thing. Yet it was 

 manifest that he loved the fun of the thing. Often would he 

 stand and look into a shop, and then look at me, saying plainly 

 in eye language, " Do let me, only this once, it is such capital 

 lun." I am sure the excitement of the chase pleased him. The 

 impotent-to-catch, but furious butcher, baker, or grocer, the 

 consternation he caused, all this delighted the dog. *' You 

 can't catch me, you can't catch me," and away he went, know- 

 ing that he had four legs, and a good start, and his pursuers 

 only two. 



I said that Pincher by hard training became reformed. Ee- 

 formatories did not exist then, or I might have sent him to one. 

 Long time, like a reformed drunkard, did he hang round the 

 varidiis scenes of his former exploits, but fully reformed he at 

 length became. 



I'mcher's exuberant spirits occasionally got him into sore 

 disgrace, as when rushing cue day into my I'lgeon loft (he was 

 accustomed to go in with me), his rat mettle uji, off tiew a hen 

 Barb, a new-comer, just hatching her first eggs ; the dog seized 

 her, and she was limp and dead in a moment. My displeasure 

 was almost unbounded, as was Piucher's penitence. My only 

 Barb hen, and not another nearer than Lunilun, and no othei' 

 Pigeon to take to the eggs, liut except for a scrape or two such 

 as this, Pincher lived in favour, he was the companion of my 

 long-lad days, and he helped to make them more agreeable, 

 and, perhaps, even more innocent. — WiLisniiiE PvEctok. 



OUR LETTER BOX. 



Feeding One IIdndred Fowr.s (TI. C.).— We cannot odvi>e nnylbirf; 

 better than whnt jou alreiidy make use of— viz., bnrley nnd ludiau cuiu, 

 with a change ol wetted meaJ, but we ere no advot-ates forbnckwhent. It 



might, perhaps, be more economical to substitute offul wheat for barley, 

 where it can be had for 3«. or 3s. 6d. a-bushel, and we should think a 

 bushel of this ousht to last more than a week, and if about 3*'. or -ia. worth 

 of a mixture of barleymenl and pollard were mixed with any waste po- 

 tatoes, including the outer paringF, boiled and mixed-up with the meal into 

 a thick pf*ste, we think the whole ought to be kept for, say, 8*;. or Gs. per 

 week. Of course, much depends on whether many of them are young &r 

 not, as young fowls require more feeding than old ones. If they are to be 

 kept in condition tit for table, more food may be wanted, but in general 

 old birds do not lay so well when overfed, and we like a fowl direct from 

 the yard better for table than a coop-fatted one. We need hardly say 

 that in mild open weather the fowls will pick up a good quantity of food 

 from the ground. 



Management of Fowls (Ccstria).—YonT run. No, 1. will do perfectly 

 for Game fowls, or Eantnnifl, or Silkies. It would do for a small run of 

 Cochins, and these would be the most prolitable. No. 2 will do well fo-r 

 Brahmas. We Lave Bjintams running about our liitchen garden with- 

 out doing any damage. If you keep the bouse clean, and supply the fowls 

 in a dry basking place with road sand or wood as-iies mixed with black 

 sulphur, they will have no vermin. You should feed three times per day 

 — at daybreak, midday, and evening. Good barley, ground oats, barley- 

 menl are all good food. Indian corn is a chnnge, and the table scraps are 

 excellent helps. Sand is a bad bottom for a pen. Gravel is the best, 

 road-grit is next, but sand is cold, damp, and sloppy. 



Feeding Golden-spangled Hamburghs iFar West^. — Peas are only 

 used to harden plumage, and to give many of tbem is injurious feeding. 

 Ground oats form the best food for fowls, varied with Indian corn in 

 small quantities, and with stale crusts and crvunbs steeped in milk, or in 

 cold weather in strong beer. Wheat is not good food. 



DrcKs' Eggs Daek-coloceed [Copt. Horne).—li is a sign that the 

 Ducks are not in condition, but does not interfere with the wholesome- 

 ness of the egg, nor with its food properties. It is probable, if the Ducks 

 were shut up in an old pigetye for a week, and fed only on meal, oats, 

 gravel, and grass, that the colour would alter. It is worth trying with 

 two or three, as, if the experiment were a success, it would prove that the 

 objectionable colour arose from something eaten by the Ducks, and that 

 interfered with their secretions. These vagaries are sometimes caused 

 by fat. 



Er^rBDEN Goslings (A. H.). — The weight will depend on the age. We 

 have Toulouse Goslings in ordinary running condition weighing 14 lbs, 

 each. We doubt whether you can obtain Embden Geese. Try at Mr. 

 Daily's, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square. 



?EX OF Tea Fowls (J. W.). — The ses of Pea fowls can be easily dis 

 corned when they are twelve or fourteen weeks old. Barley is all the 

 food they require wnen they are half-grown, but up to that time they 

 want feeding like young Turkeys or Pheasants. They are delicious eating 

 when about eight or nine months old. Their value under twelve months 

 old is about Ba. each. After that, they vary. When the feathers were the 

 fashion for ladies' hats, a Peacock in colour was worth SOs. The fashion 

 is altered, and he is now worth about I'Zs. or 14«. 



Game Cock's Beak Broken. — " I have seen, where a cockerel was 

 fighting with another through his crib, the honey substance broken oil' 

 bis upper mandible and leaving a fleshy substance n^^arly the length of 

 the under one, but it was replaced by afresh one in a few mouths. —H. G. ' 



Pigeons Diseased {A. S.).— It is best always in sickness, whether of 

 man, beast, or bird, to look at the cause more thnn the symptoms. Thus* 

 if a child has a sore mouth, the cause is a bad state of the stomach, cure 

 that and the muuth will become well. We infer from the state of your 

 Pigeons, that your loft is either cold, damp, or draughty. Fancy Rgeoi B 

 cannot well be kept too warm ; they always do best in a ceiled room. Ab 

 you have tried the old remedies, and found them tail, adopt those 

 recommended by " A Foreigner." a very skilled fancier, in our Journal of 

 July SUth. He says, '■ Some Pigeons are recovered by one remedy, some 

 by another, and others never; some get rid of roup by a dose or two of 

 charcoal powder, some by a dose of carbonate of soda or a pinch of alum, 

 and some bv a dose of flowers of sulphur." In regard t^your Carrier hen 

 nut getting her feathers after mnulting, this shows also want of warmth — 

 feed her on hempseed, and put her in a warmer place. Put a number of 

 clean screws into your Pigeons' water, we prefer tliem t.r» nails ; but of 

 all things, set to work and make your loft warm. Dauip, cold, and 

 especially currtnts of wind are ruinous to fancy Pigeons. The excrement 

 left C'U boards causes a loft to be damp. 



Stuffing Birds {Se}f''taufiht). — We know of no liquid that can be 

 applied to birds rendering the skinning unnecessary, in our No. 380, 

 you will find our suggestion about dying moss. We have no further in- 

 formatiun. 



Feed of a Cow in "Winter {H. C).— If your Alderney cow has the 

 priviltfje of being turned out on the three-acre field you mention, which 

 she ought to have to do well, and is allowed to pick up a little straw with 

 which she maybe supplied as litter, we should think she ought to do 

 well on from 4 "to (j lbs. of cake per day, and about 2 tons of buy for the 

 winter ; but so much depends on the amount of extra food she may pick 

 up tint the quantity of hay cannot be strictly laid down. In feeding it 

 is advisable to give only a. little food at a time and often, nnd not to 

 allow her to waste much, i^ome foi>d she will very likeiy refuse to eat, 

 but let that be as small a quantity as possible. Cotton and other cakea 

 improve the quality rather tuKn incrense the quantity of tlic milk. Soft 

 foods, as brewers' grains, mashes, &c., increase the quantity, but it is 

 poor in proportion to the extent it is so forced. We %\uuld by all means 

 turn her out a few hours every dny ; even if there be nothing to eat, the 

 extrcitJe will be benelicial. We are sorry for the delay in answering your 

 JnijuiriLS ; it arose from causes not easily prevented. 



CcoKiNG CocvE Tronchuda (E. D.). — The midrib of the Icflf is the Only 

 part used; it is not to be peeled, but must be quite free Irom tb« 

 green p!irt of the leaf. For cooking it, tie the kale in small bundles, and 

 cut I'fTthe ends to make them all of the same length ; have ready a pou 

 contHiuTug oLe galluu of boiling water, and 2uzs. of salt. Boil the 

 kale rallier quickly fur half an hour or till tender, dish it up with a piece 

 of tons t tmdtr. Serve very hot with some good melted buttfer. The Couve 

 TrouL-buiia dressed as above is an excellent vegeUble; but it is never 

 tender till after ii has been exposed to the frost. It is not, as generally 

 suppiised. a dehcat"' plant, but qniie hcrdy, and can be used uU through 

 the wiulfr. — (From a Coiirypoiuhnt). 



