July 28, 1870. 



JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



73 



unable to furnish. The complaint ia just ; and it cannot be 

 too strongly urged upon all doing any business across the water, 

 that anything but strictly honourable dealing will infallibly 

 lead to dissatisfaction, not to say disgrace. 



By the way, I hear that Col. Hassard, RE., is under orders 

 for England, and has sold off his Canadian stock. If so, 

 Canada will lose, and we shall gain, a most enthusiastic fancier. 

 — L. Weight. 



THE TROUBLES OF EGG-HATCHING. 



"Eveey chicken," said Mrs. Thorp to her sister, as they 

 passed through a large stack-yard in which scores of young 

 chickens were playing among the dry straw and hr.y seeds, 

 " should live and grow through May, if it is to cost little, and 

 be of worth to its owner." 



" Don't speak to me, Clara, of May ohickens, or, indeed, 

 chickens of any month," replied her sister, " I cannot bear if. 

 We have striven and failed, failed so completely that the sight 

 of a feathered thing is distasteful to me. Frank spent more 

 money last year over rearing his chickens than would have 

 taken his own chicks and their hen mother to the seaside for a 

 month. To think of the bother and trouble, and loss and death 

 we had. I would not for anything go through it again." 



" You might have better luck another time ; my chickens are 

 no trouble." 



" Ah ! but then you have bad a world of experience, and you 

 have a lot of old fowls at the farm to choose from, when you 

 want one to hatch your fancy eggs bought at a fancy price ; we 

 had nothing but the market to go to, and the oldest, ugliest 

 hen we could purchase at a dear rate, under the name of a 

 clucking hen, was sure to have clucked her last before she 

 reached our home. We were once nearly desperate, for we had 

 half a score of big idle hens neither hatching eggs nor laying 

 eggs, but walking up and down scratching and eating. What 

 barley they did consume, to be sure ! our man seemed to be 

 always on the way to the nearest retail shop with a little white 

 bag on his arm, and I cannot tell you how many sittings of 

 eggs we had in the study laid up in baskets, and wrapped in 

 cotton wool to keep them warm, and all these eggs had to be 

 turned over daily. I never could understand the necessity of 

 doing so, but yet I did it lest Frank should break them." 



" But what were you doing to have so many eggs, and never 

 a hen to sit ? " 



" We did not know the hens would not sit when we bought 

 them. We were assured they would, that nothing could prevent 

 their doing so, and like you we were determined to have May 

 chickens. It was not to be ; all about us eggs were hatching, 

 in the old stone walls, and among the ivy, and rocking in the 

 high thick branches of the sycamores ; but our nests were 

 empty. We could not walk out but we everywhere met with 

 white or blue or spotted castaway shells, tell-tales of the new 

 birds that had come to enrich the world ; but our bird life lay 

 dormant in the dark shell. We tried all ways reasonable, and 

 I sometimes think unreasonable, to bring about the fulfilment 

 of our desires ; we put them in new nests, on lots of common 

 eggs, and closed them up safe and fast, but they screamed and 

 stamped and broke the eggs, and finally escaped. They would 

 neither be coaxed nor driven ; if you went near them they flew 

 about like wild birds." 



" You must have been deceived in the hens you bought. I 

 have had them from a long distance, and they have done well." 



"Have you? You are a farmer's wife, and understand such 

 things. If I were troubled with a lot of sitting hens — I never 

 shall be, though, if I can have my will — I would take them out 

 for a drive, or hire lodgings at a strange place, and bring them 

 home after a time. I am sure it would cure the most stubborn 

 Cochin that ever dared to sit at an unreasonable time." 



" But the Cochin I sent you, did she not do well ? " 



" Yes, she did very well, but she had no chicks. We thought to 

 be wise and just, that it was first oome first served, so gave her 

 the oldest eggs, some Black Spanish that had cost a great deal 

 of money. I do not know how old they were, but I had turned 

 and re-turned them over and over again for many weeks— I 

 cannot tell you how many ; but I remember when I first took 

 upon myself the important work, the starlings were building in 

 the barn roof, and when I turned them over for the last time, 

 they were popping large worms down the wide throats of their 

 noisy youngsters. No life would come out of the shells. Frank 

 said they had been dipped in hot water, or pricked through 

 with a pin, or some one had played Columbus with them to a I 

 purpose." ' 



"Your wisdom was at fault, Emily, for once; a few fresh 

 eggs from the nearest farm would have done better for you, 

 better for my poor hen." 



" But what a mongrel tribe they would have been — all colours 

 and shapes. I do not like common barndoor fowls ; they may 

 be nil very well about cottages, but in a poultry-yard devoted to 

 their use, they should be all of a sort, and of one colour." 



" They would have made a settlement for you, a nursery in 

 which to rear delicate birds, all of one colour, and so nearly re- 

 sembling each other that you could not distinguish one from 

 the others, if that is your desire. I would rather have the 

 beauty of strong young life, than that of plum-age apart from 

 strength. I am afraid that many would rather their white birds 

 were delicate of constitution, than betray one coloured feather. 

 Aud then, too, the blame of failure is often thrown upon the 

 hen or the eggs, when iu truth it rests with ourselves. We 

 «annot let well alone, we go groping about the nest, it is never 

 deep enough, or soft enough, and we irritate the poor bird, 

 until in disgust at our proceedings she forsakes hor eggs — per- 

 haps if we are fortunate to hide away her nest, and bring home, 

 to our delight, suoh a brood of chickens as could not have been 

 if our curious eyes and busy fingers had intermeddled with her. 

 Fowls of all kinds are very distrustful of human help ; by long 

 patience, gentle tones, and quiet movements, do we alone win 

 their confidence, and even then they are apt to regard us as 

 giant marauders, taking our spoils after a wholesale fashion, 

 and no outrage which the strong ever perpetrate on the weak 

 is equal to stealing away the eggs from a secret nest. My 

 wonder never is, that there are so few chickens hatched, but 

 that there are so many. We nurse and coddle, and shelter our 

 sitting hens from a drop of rain, a breath of fresh air, or a 

 ! glimpse of sunshine, as though these powers were set to fight 

 l against our success, and yet we know that the rain often drips 

 • through the blackbird's nest, and the long grass and dead fern 

 fronds that hide the pheasants are wet with dew, and yet their 

 I little ones come and thrive. But many think that they can do 

 better than work with Nature. I have seen poor hens shut up 

 1 in little dark places, deprived of their daily walk and bath, with 

 j food to eat and water to drink, but no space in which to use 

 their limbs. A weary three weeks they must have, a sad ne- 

 gation though not of their own choosing, for they would make 

 all the way of their life bright and glad. The healthy chick 

 comes with gladness into the world, and of all sufferers they 

 are the most patient." 



" Really, Clara, I never thought there was any need to con- 

 sult their feelings and inclinations. I used to think if a hen 

 wanted chicks she would hatch them in any place, and under 

 any circumstances. I know now to my cost she will not always 

 do so." 



"And suppose that she would, in what condition would she 

 be when her three weeks' imprisonment was over ? Would the 

 dark airless nest have given, or kept, an appetite ? And with 

 its loss surely health and spirits, and warmth would have fled. 

 Then wonder would be expressed that the poor bird grown 

 tame and quiet, did not teach her chicks to play. How little do 

 the wisest know of the ailments of birds, and yet we all know 

 that a vigorous healthy growth can only be produced under the 

 happiest circumstances ; therefore, we are diverging in no wrong 

 path when we surround our poultry with what is needful for 

 pleasure and comfort." 



" No wonder Frank and I failed. I must own we thought 

 more of our new poultry-yard than our poultry, but we tried 

 over and over again. We had a sitting of Dorkings, and were 

 lucky enough to get a hen to sit them ; she did well, and 

 our expectations ran high; the proper time passed, the shells 

 remained unsnipped, though we could feel the throb of life 

 beating strong within the eggs when they were held in the 

 palm of the hand. Some one told Frank they were too dry, 

 and if left to their fate would all perish in the shell, so a gallon 

 wateting-can filled with tepid water was brought, and its con- 

 tents poured over them ; the water ran in little rivulets all 

 among the white eggs, and settled in a pool in the hollow of the 

 nest, and I thought surely they would be drowned. It did no 

 good ; when morning came they lay a cruel Eight, all dead, some 

 in the shell, some out. It was a great disappointment to be so 

 near to success, and yet to fail. Frank declared that he would 

 have the next batch brought in-doors, and sit up with them all 

 night, but he would save them. Our next were Hambnrghs, from 

 the breezy Yorkshire moors. They promised well ; night after 

 night we held them before the lamp to make sure they were not 

 deceiving us ; all were dark, not one remaining clear ; seven- 

 teen of them had the big Cochin, and we had left her in a 



