58 



CHAPTER VIII. 



HATCHING AND REARING. 



In anticipation of the thirteenth morning ushering in the event so much desired, it will be well 

 to see that the egg-tin is cleaned out over-night and replenished with a little fresh food, in 

 which the yolk of the egg must predominate, and when the breeder looks into the cage in the 

 morning he will probably see half a shell in the bottom and will hear a little chirp. Under 

 ordinary circumstances he will not think of disturbing the hen, but we will excuse him if, on 

 this occasion, he takes a peep. In the bottom of the nest he will see a bunch of something which 

 looks like a cluster of hairy caterpillars, and as he is sure, instinctively, to give a little chirp on his 

 own account, he will see the bunch open itself out, and untwist four little heads on four long necks 

 out of a knot in the middle, which will raise themselves up and open out four little hatchways. 

 And if he looks further he will probably see that each little neck has a yellow spot on the side of 

 it, which spot is egg, and shows that already, almost before the down on the caterpillars is dried, 

 the hen has given them their first meal — a good omen for the future. He can also indulge in a little 

 speculation if he chooses ; and if he notes that the down on one caterpillar is dark, it will develop 

 into a green bird. If Ihe parents are, say, crested Canaries, and he sees that another caterpillar has 

 a dark crown, it will turn out, in all probability, a dark-crested bird. Having noticed which, he had 

 better put the nest back and go to his own breakfast a happy man, though if he sits down quietly 

 for five minutes he will probably see the hen rise gently in her nest, and, without leaving it, go 

 round the little circle and give each a meal with the most tender care, and after performing other 

 little offices most curious and singular, tuck them in and make them comfortable for a nap. 



One would naturally imagine that the hen having sat so long and so patiently, and having 

 brought everything to such a successful issue, her maternal instincts would be so much the more 

 quickened, and that she would at once become the exemplification of that love to which such a 

 touching reference is made in the sublime language of the Old Book. But such is not the case, 

 and the time of real anxiety is now only beginning. Her care for her young during the first few 

 hours of their lives is no guarantee that it will be continued. It is a very disagreeable truth, but it 

 is only too true. If all .should go on well, the young birds will grow under the eye almost hourly, 

 and the next morning will find them nearly double the size, plump and fat, and like little balls of 

 down. But it may be that the mother will positively refuse to feed them at all, or only at such 

 long intervals and in such a half-and-half sort of way, that the experienced breeder can tell at the 

 end of a day or two what are the future prospects of the nest. If in place of full crops, plump breasts, 

 and heavy abdomen, he finds every feature dwarfed, it is then time for him to step in and assist 

 by artificial feeding, in the hope that the want of attention on the part of the mother — which can 

 only result from unhealthy action of some kind or other beyond our ken — will presently give place, 

 under healthier conditions, to the exercise of the constant attention on which depends the well- 

 being of the nest. Understand that our rule is, in dealing with our breeding-hens, to leave well 

 alone, and to content ourselves with the best they feel inclined to do, if that best be only a 

 reasonable display of care sufficient to keep things moving. But for young birds to stand still is 



