116 
YANKEE FARMING.-NO. 3. 
These ladies received us formally, yet politely; and 
when we stated that we had called with Molly to 
see if we could not purchase some pullets to re¬ 
plenish her stock of poultry, Sister Sally, the eldest, 
a fat,waddling old woman, took off her cap, put on 
a broad-brimmed old beaver hat—an heirloom, 
probably from her grandfather—and a great, long- 
tailed coat, garnished with bright metal buttons 
nearly twice the size of a dollar, and out she went 
with us to see the “biddies” as she called them. 
Sister Sally was great on the power of fresh 
crosses on her stock of poultry ; or as she termed 
the matter, “ it was mighty good to change now 
and then, and get a new crowin’ biddy, and some 
new pullets; the breed would run out if we didn’t 
swap once in a while for new ones.” But she 
never asked herself what ought to be the kind and 
quality of these “ new ones or whether they 
would be likely to improve or deteriorate the pro¬ 
geny of those she already possessed. Strange birds 
and from a distance, were the only requisites in her 
eyes. The result was, that we found a curious 
mixture of all kinds of breeds, producing the most 
incongruous offspring that one could imagine. There 
were double and single combs : top knots and clean 
heads; muffled chops and bare throats ; big bodies 
and little bodies; bush tails and no tails at all; 
long legs and short ones ; five toes, four toes, and 
some without toes. As for colors, there were white 
and black, buff and blue, red and brown, grizzly and 
grey, ring-streaked, speckled, and russet ; in fact, 
every variety of light and shade that a kaleidoscope 
could gather together. The plumage was enough 
to make a ghost laugh. On some, the feathers lay 
smooth and naturally ; on others, they pointed from 
the tail to the head ; while on not a few, they stuck 
out at right angles to the body, like the quills of a 
porcupine. Several had hair instead of feathers; 
and these, Sister Sally said, “ was sure to freeze to 
mortal death if left out arry cold night.” Some 
laid, and some, she “ kinder guessed, would if they 
only had a chance when warm weather come ; but 
wasn’t sartin” as to this probability. In truth, they 
were “ fresh,” and a “ change,” with a witness; 
and proved beyond the power of words, the strength 
of this foolish notion which seems inbred in most 
of my countrymen and countrywomen, and puts 
me out of all patience with them whenever I think 
of it. 
Ideas upon Breeding. —How strange that in 
breeding we cannot take some model to work from 
as the sculptor does, and settle in our mind before 
we start what qualities we desire to produce; and 
then take those animals for propagation which 
possess these in the greatest perfection. I would 
just as soon think of throwing a handful of loose 
pebbles of various sizes at a two-inch auger hole 
fifty yards off, with the vain expectation that a ma¬ 
jority of them would pass through it, as to suppose 
that I could get anything good from the breeding 
together of incongruous races. 
But to resume. If Molly took a fancy to a sin¬ 
gle bird, Sister Sally would have it caught by a 
wonderfully clever little dog that followed at her 
heels, and after handling it with great affection, she 
would let it gently down to run again, with a “ wal, 
I guess we can’t spare that biddy, no how ; it’s got 
yaller legs, and them’s what makes yaller skins, 
which our John says brings most in market.” 
The next had “ too handsome a tail to sell this 
year;” another had “ sich a poorty red rose of a 
comb ;” while the last “ laid such a sight o’ eggs 
as would mor’n fill a heaping peck basket.” 
Thus we were obliged to give up the idea of a 
purchase here, and so went on. But a less variety 
and number to look at, coupled with a greater dis¬ 
position to sell, was all we found by calling at a 
dozen or more other farm houses. At last we 
stopped to make a short call on Mr. Doolittle’s 
staunch political old friend Squire Jones. 
Molly Finds some Poultry to Suit her .—The squire 
is a man of education, and is considered the best 
farmer in Agoknequaw. He and his kind lady re¬ 
ceived us very cordially; and upon making known 
the object of our call, his son, Edwin, a fine lad of 
thirteen, offered to show us the poultry, which his 
father said, was under his special care. As there 
were no buff turkies among it, Uncle Sim felt no 
interest in going out, and so remained to talk poli¬ 
tics and town matters with the squire. 
The poultry yard we found abundantly stocked, 
very roomy, and complete. It fairly amazed Molly. 
There were superb peacocks with their singularly 
beautiful plumage ; Guinea hens both white and 
grey ; glossy-black and snow-white turkies ; large 
and small China, the formidable Bremen, and grace¬ 
ful wild geese; the large black duck, and the 
beautiful little wood duck. Of hens, Edwin said 
he formerly kept a great variety; but had. now 
settled down to three kinds. The first we looked 
at, called the Pokanokets, were a superb, large 
breed—I think the most perfect barn-door fowls I 
ever set eyes on. The color of the hens was a 
bright, deep-golden ground, occasionally tipped with 
a white feather, and mottled all over with small jet- 
black spots. The cocks had large, double combs, 
reddish golden neck feathers and wings, black, 
speckled breasts, and black underneath the belly, 
and behind. They had fine heads and short bills ; 
long, round, deep bodies, with fine, flat, yellow 
legs, of medium length. The other varieties were 
the handsome black Poland top knots, and the clean¬ 
legged, little white Bantams. All these were kept 
apart in large yards, and supplied with all the conve¬ 
niences of food, water, shelter, laying, and hatching, 
that modern invention could provide. 
Molly’s eyes glistened, as she walked over the 
premises; but thinking it would be too much 
to ask for anything she found here, I broached the 
subject for her. Edwin replied that he never sold 
poultry; but instantly gallantly added, if Miss 
Doolittle would do him the favor to accept a half 
dozen of the Pokanokets for the barn yard, and a 
few Bantams to nestle in the kitchen, together with 
a pair of the graceful white turkies, which he had 
noticed she took a great fancy to, he would send 
them up to her father’s the first day the weather 
softened. Molly was so surprised at this unexpect- 
offer, that she was going to refuse, but I stopped 
her and accepted them with many thanks; for I 
knew full well she would contrive to repay the 
generous boy amply in some way, before the com¬ 
ing summer should pass over. Returning to the 
house we found a good dinner waiting us, which 
