Personal Experiences 37 



The food I gave them almost turned them inside out. It 

 was the same food I had fed before, the same, "Beef, Blood, 

 and Bone," the same proportions in the mash; I fed it in the 

 same way; everything, as far as I could see, was exactly the 

 same, but these hens died on the same food on which the 

 others had lived and laid. One flock of hens was sick 

 and stood around; the other hens were healthy and full of 

 play. One flock of hens was a source of trouble; the other 

 flock had been a source of satisfaction. One flock of hens 

 had kept me; but I had to work to keep the others. I could 

 not understand it at all. 



I had to begin to experiment again. I fed every receipt 

 that I had ever heard of, and many others that I worked out 

 myself. Sometimes I would think that I had solved the 

 problem, but in a few days I would have to change again, as 

 I could see that there was something wrong. Every time I 

 made a failure with a new feed I had ten others that I was 

 sure would work. As I had several pens to experiment with, 

 and as at times I lived with these hens from daylight until 

 dark and watched them very closely, I would think each 

 time I changed the food that I learned a little. I would 

 think each change would bring the desired result, but for 

 four years at this one place it was one continuous dis- 

 appointment. 



Sometimes I would run an experiment for a month; I 

 could tell how others acted in a day. I read in the poultry 

 papers "make your hens work,'' and so I would try to make 

 them work. I would buy nice new straw, put it in the 

 houses and yards and feed the hens in it. But they did not 

 want to work and some of them died as a result. Some would 

 scratch for a few minutes and then stand around. Once in a 

 while I would scare them out of the corner, but it did no 

 good; they would soon be back again. Once in a while they 



