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APPENDIX G 



HOW I FEED SO AS TO LOSE NO 

 S9UABS, by Fred C. Schrein. I started to 

 raise squabs in 1904 with six pairs of Homers, 

 the Extras from the Plymouth Rock Squab 

 Company. They cost me fifteen dollars, and 

 my coops five dollars, total twenty dollars. 

 I did not know a thing about pigeons, and so 

 you see I had to start at the bottom and climb 

 up, and now I am on the top rung of the ladder. 



When my squabs came, where was my mar- 

 ket? I had to look for one. I took some 

 down to the leading hotels and the managers 

 startled me by remarking that they were not 

 squabs. I asked in some perplexity, "Why 

 are they not squabs? " *' Because they are too 

 large for squabs." It was up to me to make 

 good. I replied that for every one of the birds 

 that was not a squab I would give them a 

 dollar. Then they said they had no calls 

 for squabs, but I finally persuaded one of them 

 to try mine, telling him that I would let him 

 have them for three dollars a dozen. It did 

 not take long before he found out that it pays 

 to have first-class goods to do business, and 

 so it was. I .had to educate the people first 

 as to what a squab was, and now I have them 

 pretty well educated, and I cannot raise enough 

 for my trade. I am now catering mostly to 

 private custom and get fifty cents apiece for all 

 my squabs. It makes no difference who it is; 

 every one' is treated alike. 



I have'a't present about one thousand birds, 

 and if I had room I would have five thousand 

 more. I expect in the near future to go out 

 _n the suburbs and build a large squab plant. 



I use a mixed feed, and everything but corn. 

 The only time that my birds get corn is in the 

 winter months, then in the afternoon I feed 

 it to keep them warm through the night. Do 

 not feed-crackedxorn-at any time unless you 

 can crack it yourself, and know it is fresh. 

 Follow these instructions and I bet you will 

 not have any more squabs die with canker 

 unless your grain should happen to be musty. 

 I know what I -am talking about, as I have 

 gone through the mill. 



HOW I MADE ROAST SQUABS POPU- 

 LAR, by Clara M. Hodson. I have hatched 

 eight hundred birds, kept one hundred pairs 

 and sold the others at a fair profit. I have 

 sold the squabs from twenty-five cents to 

 fifty cents each according to size. They 

 average ten pounds to the dozen, but many 

 of them weigh one pound after removing 

 feathers, 



1 selected the birds I wished to keep, built a 

 small addition to my first house and mated 

 them up as I wished according to the colors, 

 blue, white, black, brown or Cameau red. This 

 is easily done if the youngsters are confined 

 together in a mating coop for a couple of weeks, 

 then are allowed to go into the fly where the 

 young pairs are kept. They will bill and coo, 

 build a nest and go to work. I have quite a 

 number nesting at five months. 



My pigeon cote is in the rear of a lot 80 x 180 

 feet on one of the main streets of this Maryland 

 town of eight thousand people. It is the only 



pigeon plant in this section , and I have created 

 an interest in my birds and a taste for " roast 

 squab with peas ' ' that make a sale here for all. 

 I cannot always supply the demand. I had 

 pure healthy stock to begin, studied Mr. Rice's 

 valuable book and the magazine and without 

 any experience have had exceptional luck. No 

 disease of any kind. I feed them a special 

 pigeon feed (which stood first under a recent 

 examination by the Maryland Agricultural 

 College). It has about twelve different kinds 

 of seed and cracked com in it. I pay $2 per 

 100 pounds for it. It costs me two cents apiece 

 per week for my old birds and their squabs. 

 Sometimes if the number is larger, I feed a 

 little higher. They are fond of hemp. I 

 watch them and feed them what they like. 

 They are very little trouble. I feed and water 

 regularly twice a day in troughs and fountains, 

 and have the house cleaned every week, some- 

 times oftener, as nests may require. This 

 work is done by a boy twelve years old who 

 loves the birds. 



My birds are the admiration of all who pass 

 and see them sunning themselves. They Imow 

 me and many of them know their names, I 

 think. They are far more easily reared than 

 chickens. I have fifteen White Leghorns and 

 fifteen Rhode Island Red hens in a lot adjoin- 

 ing my pigeons, but they are not so profitable. 

 I find great pleasure showing my guests my 

 birds, and all are enthused with them. I 

 recently took a prize serving them roasted 

 whole, stuffed with celery and served with 

 petit pois and crab apple jelly. Let every 

 woman who loves pets try a few pigeons. 



Question: In what cases do you believe in 

 selling squabs to middlemen, and in what 

 direct to private trade? Answer: I believe 

 in knowing the cost of production and selHng 

 to somebody at a profit. The average pigeon 

 or poultry raiser doesn't know either costs or 

 selling prices. The product of a large squab 

 plant in the hands of an average business man 

 is best sold to middlemen because the cost of 

 finding retail customers for a large output is 

 something requiring bother, skill, time, money 

 and eqmpment, all of which the middlemen 

 have, as well as the educated habits of people 

 who are trading with them. The product of 

 a small squab plant is best sold at retail because 

 it costs nothing to find the customer if you 

 follow directions. Producers are much more 

 common than salesmen, in all lines. The 

 salesmen have the equipment, the know-how. 

 The producers should try to get it. It must 

 be remembered that it takes training to lead 

 a business life, although few seem to ap- 

 preciate it. The man or woman who raises 

 beautiful squabs but doesn't know how to sell 

 them is very much of the habit of mind of the 

 professional man, a physician, for example, 

 who can write a book on how to cure a cold 

 but can't cure one. Many of the misunder- 

 standings in the pigeon business have arisen 

 from the inability of the writers, who never 

 do, to comprehend what the doers were doing. 



