January 14, 1875. ] 



JOURNAL OF HORTICDLTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER, 



39 



in the face with his wing, besides scratching your hand with 

 the toe nails of his other leg. The best plan ia to catch him by 

 the wing, and if the latter is seized close to the body you may 

 hold the bird from the ground by it without the least injury to 

 the bird or yourself. 



A basket, as in the drawing, will be found most suitable for 

 sending about exhibition birds. It has no claim to originality, 

 but is here given for the benefit of those who may not know the 

 best shape. The basket must be round inside, and made of light 

 wickerwork, lined with strong calico or thin canvas. The lid 

 should open in the middle, so as to allow plenty of room for the 

 fowls to be put in and taken out without damaging their feathers 

 or comb. The sides need not be filled-in with wickerwork, but 

 I have found that only one rim round the middle of the basket 

 is not sufficient to make it firm, so it will be better to have two 

 as in the engraving. The top must be made of close wicker- 

 work, as, if only made of open work, the railway porters will 

 catch hold of the thin bars to lift it by, and will very soon 

 break it all to pieces ; while if the top is made of close wicker- 

 work they will be obliged to catch hold of the handle in the 



Fig. 12. 



middle. The diameter of a basket for a single cock, or a cock 

 and hen, should be about 24 inches ; height 27 inches, to allow 

 the cock to stand up without bending down his comb. I?or 

 hens 15 inches high will be sufficient. The lid should be firmly 

 tied down with string in two places in case one fastening should 

 become undone. If the birds have to go a very long journey a 

 small cabbage or lettuce may be hung up inside the hamper 

 for them to peck at; but anything else put in the hamper will 

 only make their feathers dirty, and corn would be lost. The 

 bottom of the hamper should be covered with clean straw, which 

 should be thrown away when the birds come back, and the 

 hamper put out in the sun to air and freshen for another trip, 

 as a close-smelling hamper with dirty straw ia quite sufficient 

 in hot weather to make the birds ill. 



The comb, earlobes, and wattles should always be sponged 

 over the last thing before starting for the show, first with luke- 

 warm soap and water, and afterwards with cold water. This 

 will make the birds look very fresh and bright, and if they are 

 in good health nothing more will be required ; but occasionally 

 it will be better to smear the comb, &o., ovsr with a liitle fresh 

 butter, and this is all I ever use. I have been recommended 

 salt butter, but though it may make the birds' combs red for the 

 once, it is too strong, and will very likely cause a tender comb 

 to ulcerate. I have also tried oil, vinegar, whiskey (!) and every- 

 thing under the sun, but am sure that simple butter is as good 

 as anything, if not better. The feet should be washed with a 

 brush in warm soap and water in which a very little soda has 

 been placed, and afterwards dried. It will be much the simpler 

 plan to get someone to hold the bird while these ablutions are 

 going on, but if this cannot be done the bird may, after a little 

 practice, be held between the knees. 



BRISTOL POULTRY SHOW. 



WORDS IN'TEODUCTOEY. 

 Ticket taken — platform run across. Ah, yes ! one place empty 

 in this carriage ; no time to lose. In — settled — plaid across my 

 knees — Journal for new year got by second delivery, for it is 

 Thursday, January 7th — paper cut open, I prepare to read. 

 Before beginning glance at my opposite neighbour. Why, say 

 I to myself, if that isn't old Smith of St. Boniface's grown very 

 lean and taken to very extreme clerical garb, dog collar, shaven 



cheek, and all. "Smith, it's you, surely." "Why, , it's 



you, isn't it?" " Twenty-five years make some difference, old 

 fellow. Why, how thin you have grown ! " " Yes, and how fat 

 you have grown." " Well, but you are bald." (Smith had just 

 raised his cord-bound round hat). " Don't you talk, for your 

 hair has lost its colour." Eyeing Smith's long coat, and remem- 

 bering his former tastes as an undergraduate, I say archly, 

 " Don't you find that coat of yours awkward after hounds ?" 

 " Hush, hush, I'm an K. D. now." " Yes, I know, Rough Dia- 

 mond ; but you always were." " No, no ; Eural Dean, sir." But 

 poking me about old tastes, follies long since forgotten, here he 

 sighed, " I suppose you have outlived your old craze for cocks, 

 and hens, and Pigeons. I remember you wanted to keep the 

 last at St. Boniface's." " Not the least," I replied ; " why, I am 

 going now, this very day, to Bristol Poultry Show." " Ah ! an 

 excuse for getting from home, I suppose. But tell me, is not all 

 this fuss about the pleasure of poultry-keeping mere fuss and 

 nothing more ? One neighbour of mine says he finds great 

 enjoyment in keeping Brahmas, another is wild about Spanish; 

 in fact a great number of my brother clergy down in Blankshire 

 are enthusiastic poultry men." " Glad indeed to hear it," say I ; 

 " and mark me, they do not exaggerate. There is the watching 

 the development of form and feather, the wonder as to how 

 this chicken will turn out and that. There is a resource never 

 wanting for country pleasure. No need of constitutional walks, 

 no moping by the fire, no great dependance upon other people. 

 Home, Smith, is doubly home with pets around you. Yon get 



amusement ; your wife, your children ." Smith exclaims, 



" I do not think it right for a priest to marry, so no more about 

 wife and children, please." N.B.— Smith was always in love in 

 old days, and used to read me his letters. " Well, leaving the 

 children out and their mamma, I say," raising my voice, " the 

 pleasure your friends tell you of is not exaggerated. Then, 

 Smith, the shows. Soon we shall be at Bristol station : then I 

 ride through that fine ancient city. Here a glimpse of an old 

 Elizabethan house, there a quaint gable ; then the picturesque 

 tower of St. Stephen's, the narrow old-world streets, the busy 

 faces, the charity boys in their queer costume, the drawbridge, 

 College Green, steep Park Street, and to crown all, the Show 

 at the Drill Hall, where friends meet, and criticise, and enjoy 

 feathered form and beauty, &c. Why, here is Bristol station. 

 Good-bye, Smith. Go home, cut off part of your petticoats, take 

 to a wideawake, grow your whiskers and keep poultry, and you 

 will be a happy man yet." 



I am soon in the Drill Hall, and say to one much interested, 

 " This is to be your last Show, I fear." " Last Show ! Why, it 

 is the first ! We have eight hundred more entries than ever, 

 and the Hall is crowded with visitors." Glad, very glad indeed. 

 Well done, plucky Mr. Cambridge; he deserved success, and 

 he has obtained it. The Hall is fall of fowls, for the walking 

 spaces are even over-narrow, and many people are in them ; for 

 no longer is the Rifle Drill Hall, as in former years, a place to 

 saunter through — you must actually squeeze your way. — Wilt- 

 shire Eector. 



" And how is our patient to-day?" said the doctor. " Thank 

 you, kindly, sir," replied the nurse, "we do think now all 

 danger is over. She has grown more than twice the size she 

 was since you were here last, and we hope now she will do well." 

 And BO with Bristol. Thanks to able, courteous, energetic Mr. 

 Cambridge, this Show, ao nearly a thing of the past, has 

 entered on a new life, and we think we see a bright unchequered 

 road before it— a road where sunbeams dance, and whereon 

 friends meet pleasantly ; a road on which there are no clouds 

 overhead, and need be none below. We consider it most plucky 

 of Mr. Cambridge so gallantly to come to the rescue of this great 

 Show ; and certainly he, backed up by his friends, has achieved 

 a great success as far as the arrangements and entries are con- 

 cerned. We hope when the more serious time of adding up the 

 accounts and paying them comes, that the balance will be con- 

 siderably on the right side. Imagine 1100 entries more than last 

 year ! When we get into four figures it really looks hopeful and 

 encoaraging. No doubt many will think the Selling classes 

 account for this huge increase, but not so: not one-quarter of 

 this additional number is brought by the sale classes. No ! We 

 believe most assuredly the plan of allowing any number of pens 

 to go in one basket is the chief reason, and we are fully con- 

 scious that this great step on the right road has been brought 

 about by one of our own friends, though now no more of us. We 

 feel quite confident this is an important step in the poultry road. 

 The quality of the birds was something quite out of the common ; 

 we never saw so few poor pens. The giant strides made during 

 the past two years in most of the breeds are something really 

 wonderful. We notice this as much among the Cochins and 

 Brahmas as anywhere, and the poultry mania is more infectious 

 than ever. People join the poultry world, and float down the 

 "fancy " ways from all circles and all places. Only at this Show 

 we heard of one gentleman who was seized with the fever so 

 badly, that Buff Cochins of the best quality must be had at any 

 coat, and an article of great domestic use was to be sold to supply 



