32 
BREEDING PIGEONS. 
BOYS’ DEPARTMENT. 
Well, boys, it is some time since we have paid 
any attention to you, for which we have had many 
complaints, not only from yourselves, but your pa¬ 
rents also. We propose, therefore, during the pre¬ 
sent year, to remedy this matter as well as we can, 
by devoting from one to three pages per month of 
the Agriculturist to your benefit, and trust that we 
shall have your very efficient aid in our support, by 
monthly contributions from your own roguish pens— 
for who can tell what a boy wants so well as him¬ 
self ? If w'e could only rejuvenate ourselves (that 
is, grow younger) five and twenty years, when to 
possess a pet lamb, a puppy, a small stock of poul¬ 
try, and a patch for cultivation in the garden, was 
the height of our ambition, we should be a capital 
hand at this department; but alas, our boyish days 
have gone, never to return—and we have no young¬ 
sters of our own to give us hints or ask us questions, 
so that we are fearful of our success in interesting 
you, my fine fellows ! 
Breeding Pigeons. —Such of you, boys, as have 
had the advantage of reading the first volume of our 
work, will well recollect the excellent chapter we 
there gave you on the different varieties of the pi- 
eon, and the best method of breeding them. We 
are say, now, you have plenty on hand; for though 
they generally lay only two eggs at a time, yet, as 
they usually hatch monthly, and the young soon pair 
and follow the example ol their parents, they propa¬ 
gate themselves very rapidly. Linnaeus computed 
the increase from a single pair in four years at 
18,000 ! ft is our intention to show you some cuts 
of pigeon-houses in the course of the year, and per¬ 
haps a few portraits also of pigeons, together with 
further hints upon their breeding and management: 
but, for the present, we shall content ourselves by 
merely giving you a luscious method of fattening 
them, which we have lately received in a letter from 
our excellent friend Sambo, whose acquaintance you 
will remember we had the pleasure of making in 
Kentucky, and whom we could not persuade at our 
interview there to impart to us the secret of his art of 
fatting poultry. He thinks this of the pigeons will ex¬ 
plain it in full; so, boys, you will now have no excuse 
if you do not present your friends with fine fat poultry 
for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New-Year. 
( Sunny Rock , in Old Kaintuky , three 
\ week afore Merry Christmas. 
Masser Allen,—Honored Sar: I’se mity sorry when 
you says in your last No. you wasn’t gwine to write 
no more about Kaintulcy, for people ’way down sun 
rise, as dey calls he whar you live, can talk what ’em 
please about de Empire state, Sambo knows well 
(tho’ he neber been dere), he aint nothin to dat Para¬ 
dise, old Kaintuky. And Masser John, he say so too, 
and he bin down dere last winter sellin’ hemp and 
Durham Cattle from he plantation. You keep a mity 
heap of peoples in your big city of New York, but 
doesn’t old Kaintuk feed ’em! Please tell me dat. 
Masser Allen. I reckon we hab a cave here dat’ll 
swallow you all up like a’ alligatur on de Massesseepy 
does a swarm of flies. And talkin’about de Masses- 
eeepy, dat is de most oncommon place I eber did see. 
Wall, you bin dere, Masser Allen, so I say no more; 
fcny, I wish de water: was a ! pigeon-pie, and not a ’ sea-pie , 
to eat instead ob drink him, for de way he did grip dia 
nigger’s bowels, wusn’t slow ; and I’se mout well be¬ 
lieve I swallow a whole plantation in de nasty, rily, 
horse pond stuff, in gwine to New Orleans and back to 
old Kaintuk. 
Now de pigeon-pie, dat make me tink ob our ’quaint- 
anceon de road to Loudeville, when Masser Allen tried 
to come itober Sambo about de way he fat his chickens.* 
I didn’t know you den as I does now, or I’d telled you 
ezakly, and not put my finger on de nose. I doesn’t 
write as good as some, but as it is to de boys I ’dress 
myself, I hope ’em understand deir luvin’ friend Sam¬ 
bo ; and if dey likes his talk, seein’ you hab quit Kain¬ 
tuky, he’ll give ’em lingo now and den. Boys, dere is 
a mity heap yet to tell about what de poets call “ de 
Paradise ob de West,” which Sambo tinks means in 
prose, a great country to grow big corn and cattle, rich 
grass, sweet taters, and milk and honey as is here so 
plenty in old Kaintuky ! 
Wall gwine on de Massesseepy, most down to New 
Orleans, you sees big rice fields, and you sees big su 
gar houses. Den you sees, too, alway a mity smart 
flock of pigins, and dey looks so fat and plump, dat dey 
hardly sees out deir purty eyes. You needn’t salt deir 
tails to cotch em> dat easy enuf dey be so fat. Oh ! 
dey so makes my mouf water, I almost mind to steal 
’em. But I do no such ting nudder; I mind de ten 
commandments minister toch me at meetin’ Sunday, 
and let em ’lone. When I got to New Orleans, I ask 
Masser John for four picayune to go to market arly, 
and buy a par of pigins ; and such a breakfast I got as 
I neber eat afore, since I roast de polecat wid de ’pos¬ 
sum and sweet ’tater. So I sot down to study how I 
mout make him so fat too. Wall I tink it was de su¬ 
gar and de rice, he pick up on de big plantation—for I 
sees ’em in de crop; but dat not enuf for Sambo, I 
want to improve upon de fat, and so outsell ebery body 
in de market. Now, Masser Allen call he Sambo “ a 
genus,” and so he be; and so I sot heself to study to 
make de pigin a sweeter fat dan at New Orleans. 
Wall, I lay down barehead in de hot sun, on de hurri¬ 
cane deck ob de steamboat cornin’ up de Massesseepy, 
and study—den I go down and sweat afore de hot fire 
under de boilers, and study—den I sing de boatman 
song so loud dat I drown de noise ob de blow pipe— 
den I dance de double shuffle—den I lay down in de 
sun agin; but arter all, I find out just nofin—I ony 
make my head and shins ache. At last I gits so tired 
w r id study, I goes to Masser John, and ask he. Den 
he begins in a most oncommon hard kimik to ’splain 
Mr. Biglie [Sambo probably means Liebig’s Che¬ 
mistry,] about car-bones, [carbon,] ox-gins, [oxygen,] 
and high-gins, [hydrogen,] ob de sugar ; and de starch, 
de parents-cum-eh, [parenchyma,] de gluten, de force- 
fat [phosphate,] de me-sole [mesole,] in de rice, dat 
I tinks at last on my own soule , I be de most cumflus- 
tered nigger dat Mr. Biglie eber make. So I gin em 
up, and w r ont hear no more kimiks ; but when I gits 
back to Sunny Rock and Dinah, I shuts my pigins up, 
and let em fly out once a day ony for exercise, and 
grub and gravel. Den I gin em plenty rice boiled in 
new milk, from Dinah’s Durham cow, Big Lady, 
sweetened a tiny bit wid honey; and, for a change, 
baked sweet ’tater mixed wid a little possum meat 
and fat. Oh, Masser Allen ! ye neber seed any ting 
like how he fat in tree week de pigin, hen, and turkey, 
on dis feed: it be w r orth cornin’ all de way to old Kain¬ 
tuky to eat him. Masser John say it beat all his ki- 
mics to fits, and a cocked hat to boot; at which I so 
lauf, and lay dowm on de floor and roll, to tink arter 
all his books, I show better practice dan his Masser 
John college lamin’, dat I fear I bust my biler, and I 
hab to call on Dinah and Tony to come and pulj my 
* See Vol. II., page 68 .—Eb. 
