THE POULTRY BOOK. 
45 
widening till it reaches the short, round, blunt tail-feathers. Notice that short 
and well-set neck, with its rich soft feathering ; the small head ; the bright hazel 
eye ; clear yellow bill, surmounted by the straight, fine-grained, and evenly- serrated 
comb, not 1. gh or thick, but just enough to set off, with her orange legs, that soft 
and pure white plumage which makes this hen the most attractive feature in my 
yard. 
*‘See, she has turned ; and now you see her thick and ample fluff, soft and white 
as swan’s down, and wider than herself, as she canters before us up the yard, 
thickly clothing her wide stern, and bulging out in heavy masses beyond her tightly 
clipped-up wings. If, as Mr. Weller asserted, ‘ vidth and visdom ’ go together, 
she must be sage indeed ! How genial her temper, how easily controlled her wan- 
derings — a yard-high fence keeps your white Cochin at home. And what glorious 
large pink eggs she keeps on laying ! Talk of Cochin eggs being small, why one of 
this hen’s eggs will make two of those of her coloured relatives — ay, and cheaper 
eating, too, for your white Cochin is a nice feeder, and will eat much less than her 
buff neighbour. 
“ So much for our favourite who lives ; now for her departed mate, who lives only 
in his two sons. Short of leg, too, was he; well-feathered were his shanks, 
straight and well-covered were his toes ; he, too, should have had no sign of vulture- 
hock, but soft and nicely rounded into the top of the yellow shank. Wide was his 
breast, and well filled out withal in its lower parts, making him look, as the sailors 
say, * a bit down by the head ; ’ his neck clothed with rich-falling hackle ; a 
strong curved yellow bill ; wide, firm, upright comb, springing from the nostrils 
and going from front to back almost in a semicircle, evenly serrated and finished 
with a plain round piece, which, though nearly touching the neck, was rounded 
under and just tucked nicely in to finish on the crown. His back was short, and 
rising to the glossy and straight- falling saddle hackle which covered the tips of his 
short and tightly clipped-up wings. For his tail — well, he ought not to have had 
any hard feathers in it, but nice soft, rolling plumes, making him look almost 
tailless. I know the winning pens at Birmingham never have tails or vulture- 
hocks either ; but my old friend had, though a compulsory moult might have made 
him also look soft-hocked and tailless. In back, loins, and fluff he was matched 
only by his sultana. His wattles were long, very red, and pendulous ; and his 
deaf ears might be similarly described. His glorious white colour was a thing to 
be remembered, though the summer sun made sad havoc with its purity, 
‘‘White Cochins will not suit a city; but when a garden has to be protected and 
a bit of green can be given, commend me to my whites. They are handsome and 
massive to look at ; where they have a fair chance they will be snow white. For 
the table, killed under six months old, they carry plenty of meat, with a slight and 
most palatable gamey flavour. Both as old birds and chickens I have ever found 
them exceedingly hardy. They have not had as much written about them as the 
Brahmas, but I believe the strength in which they have of late appeared will get 
justice done them in the prize-lists.” 
