under three years old; the first season 

 four eggs are laid, five the second sea- 

 son, and when older six or seven. The 

 gander never sits on the nest, but while 

 the goose is sitting never leaves her." 

 He also states that the young, soon after 

 they are hatched, are quite able to care 

 for themselves for they can walk and 



swim and will feed on grass. In six 

 weeks they are quite fully grown. There 

 are many other records of the successful 

 keeping of the Canada Geese in cap- 

 tivity. When swimming the young are 

 led by the gander and followed by the 

 mother goose. 



THE OLD BROWN PULLET 



A subdued peep, peep, and little crack- 

 ing, rattling sounds from a warm corner 

 of the wash room one morning in early 

 June, hastened my steps in that direc- 

 tion to gaze with delight on the downy, 

 fluffy balls with bright, beady eyes that 

 were tumbling over themselves and each 

 other in my incubator. Such a lot of them 

 of all colors common to baby chicks. 

 The eggs were procured from half a 

 dozen different neighbors so I found it 

 quite as interesting as watching the 

 opening of some new flowers — the trans- 

 formation of those balls of black, brown, 

 yellow and white down, into the different 

 varieties of mature biddies and their 

 mates. One little yellow beauty, more 

 fluffy if possible than the others, took 

 my eye from the first, and as it was of 

 a very gentle disposition, it became the 

 especial pet of the family and developed 

 into a trim little pullet of the buff cochin 

 breed. 



My little boy would often carry her 

 about in his arms, she seemingly enjoy- 

 ing the situation as much as he. 



Early the next spring she rewarded 

 our care with a nice brown egg every 

 other morning. From that time on, the 

 "Little Brown Pullet" was always busy 

 except for a short time in the moulting 

 season, for with the advent of her first 

 brood we discovered what a jewel we 

 had, for she was never known to peck a 

 chick but would mother any little orphan, 

 although it might be weeks younger 

 than her own brood. One spring I took 

 from her her nicely feathered family 

 that had grown so independent that she 

 was obliged to follow them instead of 



their following her, and gave her a brood 

 of little downy, young things, which, 

 after a little persuasion, she adopted and 

 raised as carefully as any mother could 

 be expected to, although she looked long- 

 ingly after her half-grown sons and 

 daughters as they scampered across the 

 yard in quest of stray bugs and flies. 



But alas! the ''Old Brown Pullet," (as 

 the children call her) who was now 

 about eight years old met with a seri- 

 ous mishap. She followed my husband 

 into the barn one day and on hearing a 

 squawk of pain and fright, he turned to 

 find her poor foot held fast under the 

 hoof of a large horse. From that time 

 on, she lived without scratching. We 

 could turn her into our choicest flower 

 bed sure that not a seed would be dis- 

 turbed. It was funny to see her with her 

 next brood, for her maternal instincts 

 were never trampled upon. Whenever 

 she elected to set, she was allowed to. 

 Every morning when let out of her box, 

 she made a "bee line" for the sunniest 

 corner of the yard, taking a very short 

 step with one foot and a very long one 

 with the other, clucking vigorously to her 

 brood. Upon reaching the desired cor- 

 ner, she would seat herself and there she 

 would sit the greater part of the day, 

 keeping a sharp lookout for danger and 

 giving an occasional cluck to enable her 

 frisky brood, who were industriously 

 hunting bugs, to keep their bearings. She 

 raised every one of those eighteen chicks. 



But I had not yet sounded the depths 

 of her motherly heart, for in the Septem- 

 ber following her tenth summer, one 

 morning I found two very wild hens, 



