An Interview 
and a Moral. 
THE BIRD WORLD. 
( I 45 ) 
An Interview and a Moral. 
A Chat with a Yorkshire Worthy. 
By J. S. 
The ancient town of Keighley, right in the 
heart of the Wolds of Yorkshire, the country of 
the Brontes, with its quaint byways, singular 
charm of old buildings and breadth of undu¬ 
lating landscape, and its “ right folk,” make it a 
delightful centre for those on holiday bent. 
When one adds to this the knowledge that within 
its compass some of the very choicest specimens of 
the bonny Yorkshire Canary have seen the light 
no apology need be offered for suggesting it as 
a taking-off place for a round of visits to the 
hearty fanciers to be found galore within a 
radius of twenty miles or so. 
I had the good fortune, one afternoon recently, 
to catch that sterling fancier and experienced 
breeder, Mr. Frank Spencer, at home. A hearty 
handshake and greeting preceded a visit to the 
bird-room, where evidences were strong of the 
fatherly care shown towards his numerous- 
charges. A pleasant hour of birdy chat and 
reminiscence followed, for what topic equals that 
of the “brids” in the North Country? Mr. 
Spencer breeds and exhibits in conjunction with 
his son Ernest, whom, by . the way, I was un¬ 
fortunate in not seeing. The success attending 
their hobby is in evidence in the souvenirs and 
prize cards, which appeared almost countless. 
When one passes a critical eye over the stock 
the reason is at once evident. Type, and type, 
and again type—with plenty of quality—is most 
marked. 
The bird-room is situated in the attic—a good- 
sized room, lofty and well ventilated with roof 
lights east and west. The first dawn of day to 
the last glimmer of Old Sol as he dips into the 
west are garnered here. Of what importance 
this is, in the “ first round,” during the short 
days, fanciers of experience will appreciate. 
Neither are there aids of the heating apparatus 
description ; no mystery, no secrets, just simple, 
cleanly management. 
Quite sixty birds are caged off, some in flights, 
but mainly in separate cages of the box order; 
not a soft-feathered or wheezy bird amongst 
them, all alert and fit to show for all they are 
worth. 
Left to my own devices, I got Mr. Spencer to 
run a few birds into show cages. “ Now, 
Mr. Spencer, just fettle this buff hen up a bit. I 
like the look of her.” No sooner said than done. 
“This hen,” said Mr. Spencer in reply to a ques¬ 
tion, “has done very well for me, winning ist 
and special Keighley, ist Huddersfield, ist 
Skelmanthorpe, ist Windhill, and ist at the 
‘ Cinderella ’ Show at Allerton, Bradford, re¬ 
cently. I like the hen,” and I quite agreed— 
size, position, and quality all over. A young 
ticked yellow cock next took my fancy—a rod 
CLINCH. 
in pickle, I could almost imagine my friend say¬ 
ing. “ What about this ticked buff ^cock—a bit 
of a warrior, eh ? ” “ Yes,” rejoined my host, “ a 
Palace winner, with a list of about thirty notches 
to his credit.” Not bad this, I thought, and, 
looking for some very special feature about the 
bird, I had it borne in upon me that a better 
would want some finding. 
“This young buff cock, Mr. Spencer, looks a 
likely bird. Have you shown him yet? ” 
“Yes, once,” replied Mr. S., “at Windhill, but 
he only got in the ‘ tickets.’ He will do better 
with more age over his head.” I next noticed a 
yellow hen in grand form, although no young¬ 
ster. Her record astonished me, winning twice 
at the Palace and seven other firsts in succes¬ 
sion, two seconds, and two thirds, all in the best 
company. Another hen—a buff—took my eye 
next. She was hatched in 1903, and, together 
with the yellow hen just mentioned, came in for 
deserved eulogy in “ Cage Birds Annual ” for 
1904. These two hens would pass for second- 
season birds. They speak volumes for the 
management and care spent on them. Another 
nice hen, rather smaller, but beautiful in quality, 
3rd Keighley, looks like making up into a 
smasher. 
A buff cock, ist and special and special for 
best bird in the show at Morecambe, is a lovely 
specimen. “What other honours has this bird 
captured?” “Oh,” rejoined Mr. S., “seven 
firsts in succession.” I began to fancy myself as 
a judge of Yorkies, and laughingly put this view 
to Mr. Spencer. Modesty, however, forbids my 
recording his rejoinder; but the merest tyn> 
could not go wrong over these birds. They are 
a remarkable collection, particularly the hens, 
for evenness of type, position, and finish. 
“ Now with regard to your methods of man¬ 
agement?” “ Well,” answered Mr. Spencer, “I 
practise the simple method—just sound stock, 
healthy environment, and commonsense treat¬ 
ment.” 
“Yes, but more than these are required to 
attain to the position you have reached in the 
fancy.” “Well, I suppose judgment and con¬ 
sistency comes in also. One must build up a 
strain until some certainty is reached in breeding 
results.” 
“ That seems the general opinion of most ex¬ 
perienced fanciers, but in your case, Mr. Spencer, 
how did you start?” “It is a long time ago,” 
replied Mr. S., “quite thirty years, when acci¬ 
dent put me in possession of a stock of birds; 
but not being satisfied with my material—of 
course, after some seasons’ breeding—I put 
myself in the hands of Mr. -, of Windhill, 
