FANCIERS' JOURNAL AND POULTRY EXCHANGE. 



227 



PodLTF^Y DEpA.FVTf/IElJT. 



(For Fanciers' Journal.) 



SCIENTIFIC BREEDING OF LIGHT BRAHMAS 

 FOR EXHIBITION. 



Article V. 



CULLING OR PICKING OUT POOR BIRDS, AND 

 SEPARATING THE SEXES. 



In a well-kept flock of chickens, as in a well-kept garden, 

 an occasional weed will appear, in spite of all the care and 

 skill which may have been exercised in selecting and mating 

 the sire and dam. These the fancier should have the cour- 

 age to pick out and destroy at the earliest moment that he 

 is enabled to discern them. I think it advisable to care- 

 fully examine each brood at eight weeks old. If properly 

 fed and cared for, the chicks at this age ought to weigh 

 from three to four pounds to the pair, and are just the right 

 size for frying or broiling. Any chick found with crooked 

 toes, or any other deformity, should be sent at once to the 

 gridiron. The effects of breeding from such birds will be 

 lasting and grievous. At twelve weeks or three months old 

 the birds must be separated as to sex, if extra fine large 

 birds are desired. The cockerels may be put in a yard with 

 an old cock, who will prevent their fighting, and in most 

 cases will agree very well with them. At this age the birds 

 should receive another thorough weeding. Cockerels that 

 do not show plenty of black in the hackle may be killed 

 with impunity. An}' approach to knock-knee or leg weak- 

 ness should condemn the bird at once. Occasionally a bird 

 will be met with whose wing feathers grow twisted or in a 

 spiral position. This should be stamped out whenever 

 found. Birds with crooked backs and wry tails should be 

 killed as soon as possible. The fancier should be careful 

 how he discards otherwise fine birds for too much black, as 

 some pullets will be much spotted on the back until six 

 months old, and still moult out clean; but a pullet whoso 

 hackle is cloudy or lead-color will rarely make a show bird. 

 It requires considerable courage for a fancier to pick out 

 and kill his birds in this manner, but he should remember 

 that one bad sheep spoils a whole flock.; this saying is 

 equally true when applied to fowls. He should also remem- 

 ber that a bad chick takes the same amount of food and care 

 as is required to rear a good one. When he has killed his 

 poor birds, and receives a visit from a brother fancier, he 

 will' not shrink from showing his stock, for he will know 

 that there is no danger of that scrawny, crooked-backed, 

 wry-tailed, twisted-winged, knock-kneed bird stalking out 

 in front of his visitor, and cocking his head to one side with 

 a look which says louder than words, I am a specimen of my 

 owner's stock. Well then, having disposed of his poor birds 

 to the best advantage, and in a manner which will redound 



to the credit of every fancier, he will have more time and 

 room for his good ones. During the hot summer months a 

 suitable shade must be provided, or the birds will become 

 sadly sunburned, and instead of their plumage being white, 

 they will be a disagreeable yellow. Those who are so for- 

 tunate as to have plenty of shade trees and shrubbery, un- 

 der which the birds can seek shelter from the hot sun, need 

 feel no anxiety on this score. My own yards heretofore 

 were unprotected, and consequently I was compelled to 

 make artificial shade in the following manner : Plant two 

 posts in the ground two feet deep and about the same height 

 above ground, and about ten feet apart; across these nail a 

 piece of scantling. Now sink two more posts directly op- 

 posite the other two, but only one foot high ; nail a piece of 

 scantling across the same, as on the other. Cover these 

 with boards, and cover the boards with three or four inches 

 of earth. This will make a nice cool retreat, to which the 

 birds will not fail to resort during the hot weather. 



W. E. Flower. 

 Shoemakektown, Pa., March 2S, 1874. 



(For Fanciers' Journal.) 



HENS' NESTS. 



In looking back through the pleasures of memory to " ye 

 olden tyme " of my boyhood days, I seem again to find my- 

 self, basket in hand, at sunset time, rambling through the 

 orchards, bushes and hedges, under the barns and brush- 

 heaps, into stumps and logs, and many other outlandish 

 places — in fact, only such as a boy or old hen would find — 

 "hunting the eggs." This Lenten season brings back the 

 thought of my hidden hundreds when Easter came, as well 

 as my boyish pride when in the morning I delivered up to 

 my dear old mother the snowy treasures. Those good old 

 days are gone, and have carried with them much of the 

 sweetest romance of life ; and business, ever jealous of our 

 time, has driven me from the old farm, down by Cayuga, 

 into town. I left the old barnyard favorites, but brought 

 with me my taste for fowls, and having the disposition to 

 keep step with my fellow-fanciers, I find a goodly variety of 

 the more noble sorts about me. 



The object of this epistle is not to give advice about 

 making hens lay, as any fancier would be behind the times 

 should his hens not lay after the instructions given by my - 

 fellow-countryman Wright, as well as the counsel from a 

 host of your own good American writers on this subject. In 

 the first place I gave a hint of what sort of places our old 

 hens in the country used to use for nests. Well, instinct 

 and their affection for their progeny caused them to hide 

 their nests just where they did. They never laid a single 

 egg without intending not to have it found by man, or any 

 other animal. A hen is just as careful to hide her nest and 

 eggs from one animal as she is from another, and in those 

 old times I speak of hens did just what our city fowls would 

 do had they the same chance, and I can not remember of ever 

 finding a nest lying around loose, or in sight; but, instead, 

 I frequently found it where it took hours to do so, and have 

 often watched some old favorite strolling away into the fields 

 while I followed after, until she got to where the nest was 

 not, and would fly upon the top of the fence and dress her- 

 self while I remained in sight. On becoming provoked, I 

 would drop down into the tall grain out of sight, and so 

 would she, and when 1 went where she was she was not there, 

 but had evaded me by sneaking off into the grain to her 



