948 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Mr. Bennett ascribes to one Piene Grilles the credit 
of having first described the turkey in France, in an edition 
of iElian which he published in 1535, and where occurs 
a description so true that it was relied upon almost en¬ 
tirely by subsequent writers down to Willoughby. Grilles 
speaks of it as a bird ho bad himself seen, and as one 
brought from the Now World. That it was known in 
France at this period is further shown in a treatise by 
Champier, published in 1560, but said to have been com¬ 
posed thirty years before, in which the bird is stated to 
have heenbrouglitfrom the newly-discovered Indian Isles 
a few years before. 
11 From this lima forward then origin seems to have 
been entirely forgotten, and for the next two centuries 
we meet with little else in the writings of ornithologists 
concerning them, than an accumulation of citations from 
the ancients, which bear no manner of relation to them. 
In the year 1566 a present of twelce turkeys was thought 
not unworthy of being offered by the municipality of 
Amiens to their king; at whose marriage, in 1510, An¬ 
derson states, in his ‘•History of Commerce,” but we 
know not on what authority, they were first eaten in 
France. Heresbacli, as we have seen before, asserts that 
they were introduced into Germany about 1530 ; and a 
sumptuary law made at Venice in 1557, quoted by Zanoni, 
particularizes the tables at which they were permitted to 
be served. 
'' So ungrateful are mankind for the most important 
henelits-that not even a traditionary vestige remains of 
the men by whom, or the country from whence this most 
useful bird was introduced info any European state.” 
Tennessee Fox Hunting.— The fox hunters of Nash¬ 
ville usually go out in the night; hut for Christmas week 
a grand fox chase was planned to he run in the daytime, 
There is much to be said iu favor of both modes, hut it is 
probable that hunting by daylight will in a measure su¬ 
percede the night hunting. Foxes are very abundant 
this winter and have not been chased much. 
KENNEL HINTS. 
THATCHING FOR KENNELS. 
A well-thatched kennel is cool iu summer and warm 
and snug in winter. Heather makes the best and neatest 
thatch, but straw and rushes are both good. 
FLOORING AND THATCHING. 
The flooring and thatching of kennels is a subject of 
no small importance to every one who wishes to maintain 
his dogs in a state of health. We have tried all kinds of 
flooring, and our experience is as follows Earthen or 
gravel floors are cold, comfortless, and difficult to keep 
clean ; bricks are also cold, and they absorb deleterious 
matter; a brick-floored kennel where diseaso had been 
for any time would he difficult to render safe from future 
outbreaks ; wood is comfortable, hut retains moisture ; 
asphalt objectionable in the extreme ; well grouted and 
slightly roughened black tiles make an excellent flooring, 
hut they are somewliat expensive ; so we fail back upon 
a floor, the foundation of which is broken bricks or small 
stones, plastered over with any kind of- cement that will 
harden quickly and well. Slates make a cold though 
cleanly roofing for kennels ; tiles are better, and if they 
are nailed upon the hoards, with a layer of hay between, 
they make a roof that is as cool in summer and as cosy in 
winter as one can wish. Of course, heather thatch is 
far the best roofing, when it can be got; but you cannot 
well collect the rain water from it as you may from tiles, 
and this is a great object in a large kennel, 
WATER FOR KENNELS. 
Some of our readers are contemplating the building of 
kennels, and we beg to remind them that, next to the 
site and kind of soil on which they are to stand, the 
quantity and quality of the water ranks in importance 
For drinking purposes hard water will do well, but it 
cannot be too pure. The price of sinking an Abyssinian 
well is only seven pounds. In addition to this, water for 
was)ung the dogs, etc., should be collected from the 
roofs, by means of spouts along the eaves, but these 
should discharge their contents into a wooden, not a 
zinc tank, or the water will be hard, 
MANGE. 
Cases of this troublesome disease continue to flow in 
upon us. The green iodide of mercury ointment is by 
some considered a specific in the disease. We prefer 
mixing it with equal parts of compound sulphur oint¬ 
ment, and dressing after washing thrice a week. But 
in almost every case a tonic should be given, any tonic 
except iron, which is somewhat heating. The reader 
should remember that in nine cases out of ten mangy 
dogs are poor in blood, the food should therefore be 
abundant, and contain horseflesh, mutton (sheep’s head) 
and a good supply of vegetables. ' 
VARIOUS. 
Give plenty of exercise during dry cold weather. Let 
short-haired dogs wear their jackets out of doors, espe¬ 
cially if it rains. Rub long-haired dogs well down if 
they are wet. Give oaten straw for bedding. Keep 
puppies separate from older dogs, and you will save the 
straw.— X. Perxence, in Live Stock Journal, 
Short-Tailed Hogs.— Dec, 16</i,—It has been my for¬ 
tune, during eight years to have forty-five pups dropped 
by dams of my own, and to see thirty-two, that I can 
now think of, which were sired by my dogs. Of the 
forty-five, twenty-three have been bob-tailed, the tails 
being from nil to eight inches lung. Of those sired bv 
dogs of my kennel and out of females owned by others 
the proportion of stumps lias been about the same The 
breeds are as follows :—l. Thoroughbred English pointer 
dog and bitch—tffiee fitters of mips. 2. Cross between 
same pointer and English setter bitch. 3. Cross between 
son of first pair and a flue Gordon setter (accident) 4 
Blaclc-and-tan terrier (three inches bobtail), by a Mexi¬ 
can hail-less dog (also an accident). 5. Same, lined bv a 
1 .. TiniTl< OV fX f TV! XT fltim /onvlr n^, _ f . * .. 
can 1UUJMR9 «-v6 imwucm;, os/ne, imed by a 
large-sized pointer of my own (carl&ssness of servant) 
6. Same terrier bitch, by some unknown dog—a cur, prop-1 
ably (pups all white). 7 A litter of thirteen, out of a red 
setter bitch (pedigree not fully known), by one of my 
English pointers. 
Now, in every one of these fitters there have been short 
tails, from one to nine in each, and two of the pointers 
and one terrier-cross, had absolutely no tails at all. One 
of them showed a slight cavity, where the tail ‘ ‘ ought to 
grow.” Suffice, it to say. further, that the English pointers 
have tails that appear to have been docked, but they are 
natural; they were bom thus. The same is true of the 
black and tau, which, by the way, had neither brother 
nor sister. Not long hence we may know whether my 
stock-will carry this peculiarity to tne third generation. 
I might adopt the nom-de-plume of “Caudal Append- 
re,” but it is not euphonious, and will simply subscribe 
age, 
myself, 
Yours Truly. 
A Remarkable Dog Story.— The following narrative 
of facts was contributed to the New York Sun, Ang. 3d. 
It surpasses anything of a like nature wo have ever 
My eldest brother, a farmer, lives in the western part 
of Pennsylvania, and among the outfits of his establish¬ 
ment was a black and tan dog of uncommon sagacity. 
At the outbreak of the war of the rebellion two 
of my brother's sons, mere boys, joined the Army of 
the Potomac, In an angle of the public road in front of 
his house was a considerable mound, formed of the waste 
of many wood-piles for successive years. From this 
angle the road trended southward, and by it the boys 
went forth to join their regiment. Seated on that mound 
Piiam—that was the dog’s name, silently watched their 
departure until they were lost to view in the distance. 
Then he went back to his lair, and there he lay for mttny 
days, unusually quiet and evidently sorrowing. After a 
month or more had passed in this way, one day Priam ran 
out from his seclusion, took his place on that mound, and 
facing southwardly cried like a human being in distress 
for about two hours. Then he went bade to his lair and 
was quiet. Some days afterwards letters from the hoys 
were received. They were in a battle at the timo of the 
dog’s demonstration, but came through unhurt. 
These contemporary facts were strange suggestions to 
the family that Priam possessed some quality of knowing 
those different occurrences at the time of them; but Btifl 
it was too unlikely for beliof just then, His strange be¬ 
havior on that day was, however, substantially repeated 
during every subsequent battle in which the boys partici¬ 
pated until they ended their lives in the Andersonville 
prison pen. 
The dog’s last outburst of lamentation was nearly con¬ 
tinuous from the beginning of the battle in which the 
lads were captured until their death, After this Priam 
became exceedingly surly and cross to all comers. No 
matter how near a" neighbor lived, or how well known, 
the dog denied the neighbor entrance to the premises, 
until called off by one of the family. 
In 1860 I visited my brother for the first time in forty- 
two years. Of course I was as a total stranger to all of 
them. The family knew of me only by hearsay. The 
dog knew nothing, unless, indeed, he understood what 
was said by the tamilv when I happened to be then- 
theme, My expected visit about that time doubtless gave 
me a prominence in that particular which multiplied his 
opportunities of learning something about me ; and if he 
knew what they said, he was equally prepared with them 
to expect me. 
As I walked down the lane to my brother’s house I no¬ 
ticed a dog (it was Priam) looking me square in the face 
over the gate. Without hesitation I unfastened and went 
inside. The dog turned and trotted up the steps before 
me. gently wagging his tail, and occasionally looking 
back at me as though to see whether I understood him 
and was coming. The front door being open, he led the 
way through the house to one of the back doors, and 
there we found an elderly lady, my brother's wife. For¬ 
getting the dog in the greetings, I did not notice how or 
when he went out. But soon afterward I saw him at the 
front gate again, as when I approached it. This single 
and isolated suspension of his surly aggressiveness, in let¬ 
ting me, a total stranger, enter the premises unchal¬ 
lenged, furnished another theme for publication as to its 
meaning, and the conclusion was that Priam recognized 
in my countenance, which he had scanned so closely, a 
relative of his master’s family. 
Now how are we to account for the more than human 
sagacity of Priam in all that, and especially in his syn¬ 
chronous lamentations with the battle in which his two 
young masters participated, and never a false alarm nor 
an omission ? W. J. C. 
Keokuk, Iowa, 1879. 
NAires Claimed.— Mr, B. F.fDorrance, of Wilkesbarre, 
Penn., claims the name of Gaie for his red Irish bitch 
puppy, Elcho-Firefly, presented to him by H. W. Gause, 
Esq., Wilmington, Del. B. F. Dorrance. 
—Mr. H. W. Gause, of Wilmington, Del., claims the 
name of Saxon, blue Belton dog, Belle-Carlowitz, and 
Kildare, red Irish, Firefly-Elcho. 
Bred, — Brooklyn, IV. Y., Dec. 33d.—Mr. Joseph E. 
Fisher's Gordon setter bitch, Border Lily, to Dr. H. F, 
Aten’s champion Gordon dog, Glen, winner of the Brace 
stakes of the Eastern Field Trials, 1879. 
—Mr. Robert Walker, of Franklin, N, Y., has bred his 
pointer bitch, Clare, (Buttou-Topsy, Phil-Fannie) to 
Godeffroy’s imported Croxteth, ’ D. F. S. 
Whelps.— London, Chit,, Dec, 20th.— Dr. Nevin's Gor¬ 
don setter, Mall, whelped eight puppies, six dogs, two 
bitches, shed by owner’s'Blossom. Blossom has been 
taken by Vera Shaw in his new book, as the colored illus¬ 
tration for the Gordon setter, J. W. 
Ray. —Mr. Henry W. Livingston, of New York, has 
purchased from Mr. Edmund Orgill the English setter 
dog, Ray, by Mr. Charles H, Raymond’s Pride of the 
Border, out of his Dimity. 
—The recession of the water in Tulare Lake, Cal., has 
uncovered a prehistoric settlement, stone buildings, traces 
of canals once bordered with planted trees, and other 
evidences of occupation by an unknown race, being 
clearly defined as the water subsides. 
Jfc=: 
S tr $ and Snapping. 
HOW LINNETS AND GOLDFINCHES ARE 
CAPTURED ALONG THE ENGLISH 
COAST. 
T HE trade of bird catching is just now carried on 
with great vigor all along the south coast line. Our 
almanacs tell us when grouse shooting begins and when 
partridge shooting ends, but they are silent as to such 
very insignificant birds as mere linnets, larks, goldfinches 
and red polls. And vet trade is brisk in these very small 
commercial commodities, so brisk that the Southeastern 
Railway has a special tariff and carries up these unfortu¬ 
nate songsters by the score from the breezy downs of 
Kent and Sussex to the dreary purlieus of Eastcheap and 
St. Giles’, where about seventy per cent of them dwindle 
miserably, pine and die. The spruce little cock gold¬ 
finch, twittering gaily in his cage, cracking hemp seed 
between bis powerful mandibles and pecking at thistle 
down and groundsel, is handsome and happy, hut he is 
one of five-and-thirty, and the other thirty-four have 
been flung out into the street with the rest of the refuse 
of the bird shop. 
COBBLERS AND CALL-BIRDS. 
We have called the birdcatchers’ occupation a trade, 
hut the tradesman would require some other means of 
money-making to enable him to live comfortably through¬ 
out the year. The season, or as he calls it, the’ flight has 
not long been commenced, and will very soon be over. 
It scarcely lasts more than a month, and the other eleven 
have to he filled in. He generally fills them in with shoe- 
making. It is quite remarkable to see the sympathy that 
prevails between cobblers and call-birds. Charles Dickens 
found in lus experience that barbers were great fanciers 
of the smaller kinds of singing birds. But it is one thing 
to keep birds and another thing to catch them, The 
barber’s cage hangs in liis little snuggery all day and all 
night. At half-past four in the morning the cobbler gets 
his all together, packs them up with his nets, his boxes, 
and his switches, and starts off before dawn to the scene 
of his labors. He has to be on the ground before dawn, 
and probably will not be able to see the plumage of the 
first bird he catches. 
THE FLIGHT OF BIRDS. 
For the flight of birds is a curious thing, and his own 
experience leads him to know that it is a reliable thing. 
Year after year their course takes them over the same 
fields, across the same track of downs and grassy levels, 
till they reach that point on the coast where for years 
they have crossed the Channel, and for generations will 
continue to do so. And so it happens that a particular 
field will be an admirable spot upon which to commence 
operations, so that the birds will pertinaciously resort to 
it and avoid all the neighboring ground as if it were an 
unfashionable district in a London suburb. And this is 
so well known in the trade that one reason why our cob¬ 
bler must rise so early is that if he is late he will find the 
plaee already occupied. Let us suppose him in good 
time, and watch him making his preparations, and see in 
what they result. He chooses his ground on the cliff, 
and generally rather inland. If there are a few furze 
bushes close at hand, or a thorn hedge, why it is so much 
the better, but these are matters of detail on which ho 
does not insist. What is important is that the flight 
passes over these fields, The first thing is to spread out 
his nets. They fie on the ground framed with wood, like 
a pair of gigantic folding-doors, and the si mile is rendered 
more appl icable as they turn on hinges and open and shu t. 
As they lie open, a space of clear turf intervenes, and 
when they rise and fall it is that space which they cover. 
The sportsman is himself able to effect his manoeuvre by 
merely pulling a cord. As he pulls, the doors rise, over¬ 
lap, ana fall. It is an affair of a moment, and the result 
is never doubtful. That is, of course, if he has been suc¬ 
cessful iu bringing the birds down from their flight over¬ 
head to this special patch of turf. And for that he ac¬ 
cordingly makes arrangements. They are generally very 
simple. 
IN AMBUSH. 
First he spreads his call-birds all about the field—larks, 
linnets and goldfinches, for he never can tell what luck 
may be in store for him, or what prey he may take in his 
toils. Next he sees to the nets themselves. He, in effect 
baits them with brace-birds. A brace-bird is one of tho 
few technical terms in the business. It looks uncom¬ 
monly like a piece of cruelty, but probably is not. The 
little bird seems to have a swivel screwed into its back¬ 
bone, in which a ring is inserted by which it can be tied. 
In reality a wire is passed round and round its body and 
under its wings, near the joint, and this wire is joined 
and twisted at the blade-bone, and a little ring added, so 
that the bird can he securely tied and yet its wings are 
free to let it fly as high and as far as its tether will per¬ 
mit. These brace-birds are ail good songsters, and free 
with their minstrelsy. They must not have either sulks 
or colds. A peg is next driven into tho ground from 
which it rises about eighteen inches, and a long switch 
hinges on to the top of this peg, at right angles to it. 
The structure, in fact, looks like a m i ni ature gallows, only 
that the transverse switch is very long, and is allowed to 
hang on to the ground, To the end of this switch the 
brace-bird—linnet, lark or goldfinch, as the case may be 
—is tied, and it has generally tether enough to run about 
on the ground and enjoy the novelty of a fresh sod. But 
the sportsman can in a moment, by pulling a bit of 
string, bring the switch into its place, a process which 
jerks up the unfortunate brace-bird, who flutters high 
into the air, and finally descends in great distress on its 
only available perch—the switch. This apparatus, with 
a bunch of thistles laden with down for the goldfinches, 
the nets themselves, and a long, low cage for his cap¬ 
tives, constitutes the whole stock in trade. Our sports¬ 
man lays out the nets, sets up the gallows, and retires a 
short distance in ambush for his prey. 
THE CATCH. 
A whole troop of innocent linnets, full of life and song 
and with their minds fully made up to roost in Brittany 
that night, now sweep through the air overhead. They 
have passed the field and are out of danger. So at least 
you think, but the sportsman knows bis business better. 
Before they are quite out of call he sets up a peculiar 
whistle which makes all the little birds in the cages 
