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JOUENAIj OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 



[ September 12, 1S72. 



I killed it, and, as I expected, its liver "was three times its proper 

 size ; the kidneys also were very large, and both covered "with, I 

 might say entirely composed of, hard "white lumps of all sizes, 

 from small mustard seed, to that of small beans. My chickens 

 have all been healthy — remarkably so, and it is only three or 

 four hens that have been affected this season, though last year 

 I lost several, and it is the only disease I am troubled -with. 



Surely it cannot be from overfeeding, for I adhere strictly to 

 Mr. Wright's advice, and keep my Brahmas ravenous, though I 

 nmst admit if I err it "will be on the side of humanity, for I have 

 loved my pets so long and so "well it is next to impossible I 

 should neglect them. In a morning they are fed "with a mixture 

 of good wheat and barley, at noon with barleymeal made into a 

 stiff paste, then just before roosting time, or rather bed time, a 

 few handfuls of corn. They are always supplied with fresh 

 water, have the run of a yard about 60feet square on one side of 

 the house, and are kindly permitted a large piece of the grass 

 plat enclosed by 2-feet wire netting. Woe to that unhappy 

 chicken which takes advantage of an accidental hole left in the 

 netting to wander forth amongst fruit, flowers, and cabbages, 

 all of which are the especial pride of their master, for then I 

 have to listen to dreadful hints of their never again being per- 

 mitted to enter their green pasture, and that, like a very 

 ancient couple, they must for their sins be driven from the garden 

 for ever. I could tell, if I durst, how cauliflowers, having their 

 eutside leaves sadly disfigured, are hastily cut for dinner, long 

 before they have arrived at perfection, through somebody just 

 leaving that blessed gate open ; then that was not their fault, 

 poor things. 



Here I willsay a word for my favourite Brahmas to those who, 

 like myself, have not much room for poultry, but can appreciate 

 for breakfast a really fresh egg with what I call a bloom on it (and 

 a newly-laid Brahma egg has a bloom on it, just as well as your 

 hothouse cucumber), and can enjoy an occasional chicken for 

 dinner, whose precise age can be relied on. Some years back, 

 before my experience was purchased, I made a point of bringing 

 home every pretty-looking chicken I fancied to my little latticed 

 run, quite irrespective of either age or breed, and then wondered 

 why they looked so wretched, and persisted in " shuffling off ;" 

 bnt " experience teaches wisdom," and mine has taught me 

 that it is of no use trying to keep in confinement those breeds that 

 require a grass run. (To give this last clause its requisite import- 

 ance it deserves printing in italics). For years I tried and could 

 never succeed. They are restless and discontented, always flying 

 into other people's gardens, to their disgust and my discomfort. 

 Formal messages and letters from once kind and friendly neigh- 

 bours, detailing in harsh terms their destructive exploits ; vision- 

 ary lawsuits for damages ; laying away over walls where you durst 

 not ask for the eggs ; birds often missing altogether, retribution 

 having come upon them suddenly while they were trespassing ; 

 sanguinary battles (very trying to a peaceful mind) between 

 rivals, resulting in death or injury — all this I have endured till 

 I determined never to keep fowls that brought me so much 

 trouble, till I could give them an unlimited space to range in. 

 Yonder are my pets, all so stately and substantial, so peaceable 

 and happy, so docile and intelligent. Blessings for ever on the 

 man who brought us Brahmas ; may his account at his bankers 

 never be small, and his shadow never be less ! Then what eggs 

 every morning ! so large, so rich, and so many of them ! What 

 models of maternal devotion ! Their sitting propensities I turn to 

 good account by sitting every hen upon Ducks' eggs (I keep three 

 "to supply me with eggs), after I have hatched as many chicks as I 

 require. I invariably get large broods, and plenty are glad to buy 

 the ducklings at &d. each when they come off, and by doing so 

 I am a gainer, as the oftener they sit the more ducklings I have. 



Before I close my rambling letter I will tell you how delighted 

 I am with Mr. Wright's new book. To any who, like myself, 

 Tmow a little, and are anxious to know more, it is invalu- 

 able. I may thank him for many a " wrinkle ; " Nil desperan- 

 dum.—\. K. L. 



MALMESBUKY SHOW.— No. 1. 

 Recently I drove to Malmesbury, as I heard there was a hor- 

 ticultural show to be held there. I do not state as yet what 

 kind of a show, and scarcely knew to which part of " our Jour- 

 nal" to send the account, whether to ask for its insertion in the 

 garden or poultry department ; but as fowls, and even harmless 

 Pigeons, are abominations in the sight of most gardeners, I elect 

 the poultry part, for many lovers of fowls and Pigeons dearly 

 love their garden. Hence if I chat of lawn and terrace, bedding 

 plant and Fern, they, I know, will excuse me, and the gardeners' 

 feathers remain unruffled. "The monks of old" had many a 

 fair settlement in the district around Chippenham, Wilts. Three 

 miles in one direction was Laycock Abbey, in the fine remains 

 of which resides Mr. Fox Talbot, the inventor of photography. 

 Two miles in another direction was Stanley Priory. Six miles 

 in another was Baden Stoke Priory, now a farmhouse ; and last, 

 but by no means least, in another direction, nine miles distant, 

 is Malmesbury Abbey, the remains of which are large and most 

 interesting. The iron king, has, however, not always followed 



the track of the ancient and venerable ; and as no railway is 

 nearer than the Great Western, and Chippenham station is 

 distant, so, few comparatively, find their way to Malmesbury. 

 It is off the rail and off the road. Soon, however, this will be 

 remedied, and Malmesbury will no longer be out of the way. 



Nine m il es in the dust on a sultry day in August is something ; 

 and after passing to the left the village of Kington St. Michael, 

 where chatty John Aubrey was born, and also John Britton the 

 antiquary, there is little to interest the traveller, the district 

 being for the most part flat and unpleasing. A few coveys of 

 partridges (large ones, to be thinned soon) ran and then flew 

 before us. TJgly win d m ill -sail-like reaping machines were at 

 work on each side of me ; but I met no one, and no one overtook 

 me for the first six miles. Then symptoms and signs of a fete 

 day came on me by degrees — walkers in their holiday garb; 

 a man walking first with his arms behind him, followed by a 

 woman — that man is a husband ; another man with a woman 

 on his arm — that man is not a husband yet. Smart equipages 

 are soon visible. Bright faces and bright ribbons and dresses 

 are seen — I am so glad that women now wear pretty colours, 

 blue especially, and that the long reign of drab and duster- 

 coloured dresses is over. We reach the village of Corston, where 

 many are on the stir. Girls, rosy and plump, and pale and thin, 

 all with the unmistakeable look of holiday folks, are on the 

 road. Good looks, good humour, good spirits mark all the 

 walkers and drivers, as if no strikes existed, no dear meat and 

 dear coals were thought of. Happy forgetfulness or happy in- 

 difference ! Life after all is only thought, and what we think at 

 the time is reality. 



" Life is hnt thought, so think I will 

 That youth and I are housemates still," 



said the aged and feeble and sedentary Coleridge, and while he 

 thought so he felt so. . 



Now as we approach Malmesbury from the Chippenham di- 

 rection nothing is seen of the abbey ; it commands no conspi- 

 cuous situation, and is nowhere visible, although it and the town 

 are on the sides of a sharp hill. Passing a large cloth mill to 

 the right and crossing the Avon we enter the old borough and 

 market town of Malmesbury. Remains of old architecture crop 

 out here and there. A steep, very steep, pull gets us into the 

 principal street, and before us are the beautiful ancient market 

 cross and more beautiful abbey. Malmesbury people had 

 trimmed up their old town. Arches were above us ; even lamp- 

 posts looked green and gay with evergreens and flowers, and 

 the grand old market cross was well nigh covered with garlands 

 and inscriptions. By the way, a friend of mine inquired of a 

 working man recently as to what he had been doing lately. 

 The man replied he had been putting up "the welcomes and the 

 7tarches," meaning welcomes and arches, it having been the 

 flower-show time in the town. "Welcome" is a pretty word, 

 but there might be a little variety. 



The Malmesbury Show is not open yet, so I took a turn m 

 the abbey, and thought of William of Malmesbury of excellent 

 and worthy memory, and of Thomas Hobbes of at least doubtful 

 memory, for his works, says one, " were censured by Parliament, 

 ordered to be burnt by Convocation, and opposed by the English 

 Universities." The present remains of the abbey comprise only 

 that part of the church called the nave with its aisles now used 

 for service, parts of the transept, and the south porch — but they 

 are glorious fragments, and one felt, standing under the lofty 

 uncovered arches which once supported the central tower, that 

 indeed the dark ages might be dark, but were not stone blind; 

 at any rate they knew how to mould the stone into marvellously 

 beautiful forms. About a fourth, perhaps, of the abbey still 

 remains, and happily within the memory of the very old guide 

 to the ruins decay has not visibly increased. I had approached 

 the abbey from the south side, and from that side I had noticed 

 that it was not far visible ; but it is just the contrary on the 

 north side, on which is a wide valley towards Tetbury, hence in 

 that direction the abbey must be seen <for many miles, as the 

 ground continues to slope from it immediately. 



Watching my watch, I find it is three o'clock, the time the 

 Show opens ; and as I had, in entering Malmesbury, caught a 

 glimpse of white tents, I had to retrace my steps some distance, 

 and at length stand before the gates of Burton Hill, the residence 

 of Col. Miles, where the flower, poultry, and Pigeon Show is 

 held by the courtesy of its owner, for it is a flower, poultry, and 

 Pigeon Show. Now, having had something to do with the 

 management of shows, and twice having had my coat almost 

 torn from my hack by crowds struggling to get " tickets," and 

 knowing that other committee-men have frequently been in the 

 same position, I am, therefore, sure that a practical hint, albeit 

 on a very humble subject, is of value. What, then, is the best 

 way to avoid the tremendous crush at a flower show when the 

 day is fine, and the sixpenny time, five o'clock, arrives ? When 

 people want to get in, and are hindered, and the hour not long 

 before the show closes, they crush, jostle, struggle, and lose 

 their tempers. If the pay-place is the entrance itself it is im- 

 possible to keep the crowd back, and many enter without paying 

 at all. If, as often, the tickets are to be had at a tent near, over 



