3io 
THE  RURAL  NEW-YORKER. 
May  7 
The  Language  of  Fowls. 
HOW  HENS  HOLD  CONVERSATION. 
Among-  all  races  oi  animals,  wild  or 
domesticated,  imitation  of  the  human 
voice  is  confined  to  a  few  species  of 
birds,  mostly  of  the  parrot  family,  and  a 
few  also  of  the  crow  and  starling  fami¬ 
lies.  Evidently  the  power  of  voice  did 
not  keep  pace  with  evolution  in  animal 
development,  as  it  is  entirely  wanting 
in  what  is  called  the  higher  order  of  ani¬ 
mals,  mammals.  That  language  in  birds 
is  not  entirely  confined  merely  to  imita¬ 
tion  is  proved  beyond  doubt,  as  its  exer¬ 
cise  is  frequently  connected  with  such 
circumstances  and  surrounding  objects 
as  to  show  on  the  part  of  the  feathered 
speakers  decided  intelligence  and  sus¬ 
ceptibility,  extending  far  beyond  what 
is  generally  understood  by  instinct.  In 
all  probability  poultry  (Gallus  Bankiva) 
are  gifted  with  the  greatest  variety  of 
expressive  sounds  of  distinct  meaning, 
perfectly  understood  by  all  their  own 
species,  and  many  of  them  by  other  birds 
and  animals. 
Taken  in  its  broad  sense,  language  is, 
as  Milton  says,  “  but  the  instrument  con¬ 
veying  to  us  things  useful  to  be  known.” 
The  unwritten  languages  of  savages  are 
as  much  to  them  as  the  refined,  written 
languages  of  civilization  are  to  us.  The 
language  of  poultry,  like  the  call  notes 
of  all  birds,  is  universal,  unchangeable. 
Cocks  or  hens  from  all  parts  of  the  world 
use  the  same  sounds  expressive  of  feelings, 
objects  and  passions,  varying  only  in  de¬ 
gree  with  size,  from  the  diminutive  Ban¬ 
tam  to  the  massive  Cochin.  These  great 
variations  in  voice  seem  to  have  escaped 
the  notice  of  early  naturalists.  Like  so 
many  other  wonders  in  nature,  it  was 
left  to  Gilbert  White  to  record  his  obser¬ 
vations  on  this  subject.  He  says  :  “  No 
inhabitants  of  a  yard  seem  possessed  of 
such  a  variety  of  expressive  and  so  copi¬ 
ous  a  language  as  common  poultry.”  It 
is  not  only  the  notes  sounded,  but  the 
meanings  given  by  modulation  and  inflec¬ 
tion  that  add  greatly  to  the  effect  of 
many  expressions. 
The  piping  of  the  newly-hatched  chick 
is  well  known  to  those  interested  in  the 
hatch  and  waiting  to  care  for  them,  and 
the  mother’s  assuring  “cluck,”  “cluck,” 
(the  rallying  call)  is  kjpt  up  as  long  as 
they  need  her  care.  As  the  chicks  grow 
larger,  the  piping  is  succeeded  by  a 
chirruping  note.  When  settling  to  rest 
under  the  mother’s  feathers,  there  is  a 
light  trilling  song  of  satisfaction,  but 
hear  how  quickly  this  is  changed  to  a 
cry  of  alarm  if  a  hand  is  thrust  under 
the  hen  to  pull  out  a  chick.  The  decla¬ 
mation  of  the  hen  is  also  very  decided, 
even  if  it  is  not  accompanied  with  a  sharp 
peck  to  enforce  its  meaning.  A  very 
amusing  change  of  topics  may  be  pro¬ 
duced  by  throwing  a  large  beetle  before 
the  chicks ;  not  only  will  these  utter 
a  shout  of  surprise,  but  the  hen  will  also 
give  her  advice  in  a  voice  that  says, 
“Look  out !  be  careful !”  Change  the  sub¬ 
ject  by  giving  them  a  little  nicety,  and 
see  how  quickly  Madame’s  voice  changes 
to  a  note  that  brings  up  all  stragglers 
to  participate  in  the  treat. 
There  seems  to  be  a  perfect  accord  be¬ 
tween  the  notes  of  the  hen  and  the 
understanding  of  her  family.  How  well 
the  little  things  know  a  note  of  warning 
at  the  approach  of  a  hawk  or  any  other 
dangerous  enemy  ;  see  how  quickly  they 
obey  and  take  shelter  under  the  mother, 
who  keeps  up  her  defiant  declamation  till 
danger  is  passed.  She  has  a  word  of 
warning  also  for  any  little  waif  that  may 
perchance  peep  into  the  coop.  Some¬ 
times  with  the  first  brood  in  spring,  the 
mother  will  be  inclined  to  leave  them 
before  they  have  age  or  confidence  enough 
to  care  for  themselves,  in  which  case  the 
forlorn,  whining  note  pining  for  her,  is 
perfectly  intelligible  to  any  one  ;  so  is 
also  the  sad,  pining  cry  of  a  sick  chick; 
one  accustomed  to  the  care  of  the  little 
things  can  almost  tell  if  it  is  a  cry  of 
death.  Who  could  believe  that  the  first 
croaking  and  gurgling,  as  heard  in  the 
voices  of  a  bullfrog  and  a  peacock,  would 
ever  culminate  in  that  clear,  ringing  crow 
which,  in  ancient  times  (when  there  were 
no  clocks)  summoned  all  good  people  to 
get  ready  for  another  day  ?  As  Gilbert 
White  has  it,  “  The  cock  has  been  dis¬ 
tinguished  in  all  ages  as  the  country¬ 
man’s  clock  or  alarm.”  The  poet,  too, 
compares  him  to  a  watchman  : 
The  crested  cock  whose  clarion  sounds 
The  silent  hours. 
As  he  develops  sufficient  importance 
he  sends  forth  notes  of  invitation  to  the 
gentler  sex  to  come  and  share  some 
dainty  morsel  or  perhaps  to  see  how 
nicely  he  can  bolt  it  himself.  No  sounds 
made  by  poultry  are  so  expressive  and 
almost  human  as  those  made  when  an  in¬ 
truder  approaches  their  roosts  at  night. 
Step  lightly  to  their  house  and  you  will 
hear  a  faint,  thrilling  noise  made  by  the 
cock  first,  and  answered  by  the  hens. 
This  long-drawn-out,  tremulous  sound 
seems  to  say,  “Listen!  What  is  that 
strange  noise  ?  ”  Should  you  approach 
near  enough  to  alarm  them,  a  sharp  tut, 
tut,  is  instantly  given  as  a  warning  of 
danger.  Catch  hold  of  a  bird  and  a  pierc¬ 
ing  cry  is  given  with  a  strong  powerful 
voice  which  cannot  be  mistaken  for  any 
other  sound.  The  former  part  of  this 
nocturnal  performance  is  very  prettily 
described  by  Simeon  Pease  Cheney  in  an 
article  “  Barnyard  Solos;”  it  is  given  with 
descriptive  musical  notes  with  minute 
analysis.  But  these  notes  are  not  in  one 
sense  musical,  so  that  a  piano  could  im¬ 
itate  them.  The  only  instrument  that 
can  define  such  peculiar  expressive 
sounds  is  the  violin,  and  that  in  the  hands 
of  an  Ole  Bull. 
The  loquacity,  of  the  cock  is  astonish¬ 
ing  if  one  listens  attentively.  When  sid¬ 
ling  up  to  a  hen  he  has  a  coaxing, 
whispering  delivery,  or  when  he  finds  a 
good  place  for  a  nest,  his  fine  muttering 
invitation  to  a  hen  is  exceedingly  char¬ 
acteristic.  So  is  the  talk  of  a  flock 
asking  for  food  when  starting  with  their 
feeder  to  the  corn-crib.  The  eye  of  the 
cock  is  continually  on  the  alert  for  an 
enemy,  so  solicitous  is  he  for  the  safety 
of  his  harem.  The  appearance  of  a  hawk 
is  announced  in  decided  terms,  instantly 
calling  the  attention  of  all  the  farmyard 
inhabitants. 
The  pullet  when  about  to  lay  utters  a 
very  pretty  cackle ;  if  disturbed  on  the 
nest  she  uses  an  entirely  different  ex¬ 
pression,  but  when  the  egg  is  laid  what 
rejoicing !  which  is  chorused  by  all  the 
family. 
These  sounds  do  not  include  all  the 
language  of  poultry  ;  there  is  probably  a 
reserve  for  remarkable  occasions.  I  was 
once  a  witness  to  one  unusual  demonstra¬ 
tion:  while  engaged  in  a  quiet  occupation 
in  an  outbuilding  on  a  warm,  sunny  day, 
I  heard  from  the  poultry  a  very  peculiar 
noise,  such  as  I  had  never  heard  before. 
I  hurried  out  to  ascertain  the  cause, 
when  I  found  a  lot  of  hens  all  forming  a 
circle  around  a  live  snake,  coiled  up,  not 
knowing  how  to  escape,  henry  hales. 
Mr.  Corn  Plant’s  Good  Luck. 
“  Well,  how  goes  it,  neighbor  Corn?” 
said  the  old  cow  as  she  looked  over  the 
pasture  fence  at  Mr.  Corn  Plant. 
“  Slowly,  friend  Cow,  slowly  !  They 
don’t  give  me  half  a  chance.” 
“  Nonsense  about  your  ‘  half  a  chance;’ 
why  don’t  you  plunge  in  and  do  some¬ 
thing  ?  Everybody  has  a  chance  in 
this  world  if  you  will  only  wake  up 
and  work.  Look  at  me — they  turn  me 
out  in  this  big  field  and  let  me  go.  Sup¬ 
pose  I  stood  still  and  whined,  would  I 
give  any  milk  ?  Not  much  !  I  have  to 
use  my  legs  and  hunt  up  food.  I  don’t 
stand  still ;  I  just  walk  around  and  ‘  get 
there ! ’ ”  • 
“  That’s  all  right  for  you  to  talk  that 
way,”  said  Corn  Plant,  “  but  I  can't  walk. 
I’m  just  tied  here  in  this  place.  When 
your  feed  gives  out  in  one  place,  all  you 
need  to  do  is  to  walk  off  somewhere  else 
where  it’s  better.  I  can’t.  I  must  just 
live  and  die  where  I  was  born.  I  am  as 
hungry  as  a  dog  right  now  ;  but  there’s 
no  food  in  this  soil.  If  I  could  walk  now 
I’ll  bet  I’d  make  a  bee  line  for  that  hill¬ 
side  back  of  the  barn,  where  the  best  of 
the  manure  pile  has  been  draining  out 
all  winter.  Wouldn’t  I  fill  up  there, 
though!  As  it  is,  that  manure  has  all 
leached  into  the  spring,  and  if  somebody 
ain’t  sick  before  fall,  I’ll  lose  my  guess. 
Why  don’t  they  give  me  a  chance  to  fill 
up  and  make  others  healthier  ?  ” 
“  What  a  growler  you  are!”  said  the 
cow.  “  Why  don’t  your  roots  spread  out 
and  be  alive  ?  If  those  roots  had  any 
energy  at  all,  they’d  keep  you  going  ?  ” 
“  Why  don’t  you  jump  over  that 
fence  ?  ”  retorted  Plant.  “  Because  it’s 
too  big  a  job  ?  My  roots  are  as  smart 
as  any,  but  they  can’t  bore  through  a 
brick.  This  land  wasn’t  half  plowed 
anyway — they  let  it  stand  till  it’s  all 
•baked  and  caked,  so  that  nothing  can  get 
through  it.  When  the  rain  softens  it  up 
and  the  roots  have  a  show,  out  comes 
the  farmer  with  a  big  plow  and  cuts  ’em 
all  off.  No  wonder  they’re  discouraged  ; 
how  would  you  thrive  with  one  leg 
broken  ?  ” 
“Oh!  You  make  me  weary,”  said  the 
cow.  “  I  have  no  time  to  listen  to  such 
talk,”  and  off  she  went  kicking  up  her 
heels  to  show  her  spirit. 
That  night  while  the  hired  man  was 
milking,  the  cow  aimed  her  tail  at  a  fly 
on  her  side.  The  hired  man’s  face  got 
between  the  tail  and  the  target.  Up  he 
jumped  and  proceeded  to  pound  the  cow 
over  the  back  and  legs  with  a  hoe  handle. 
He  did  such  a  good  job  that  next  morning 
the  cow  could  hardly  limp  out  of  the 
barn. 
“  What  ails  old  Poll?”  asked  the  farmer. 
“  Dunno,”  said  the  hired  man.  “  Guess 
she  muster  fell  on  that  slippery  rock 
outen  the  paster.” 
Old  Poll  limped  painfully  down  by  the 
fence. 
“Well,  how  do  you  like  being  crippled,” 
said  Corn  Plant.  “  Now  you  know  how 
it  is  yourself.  Now’s  the  time  for  you  to 
show  us  how  to  *  get  a-going.’  Come  now, 
where’s  your  energy  ?” 
But  the  old  cow  could  only  groan  and 
say,  “  I  think  you’re  awful  mean  !” 
“  Sam,”  said  the  farmer  when  he  came 
in  for  dinner,  ‘  ‘  go  down  and  give  that 
cow  a  good  feed  of  oil  meal.  After  dinner 
take  your  scythe  and  cut  her  an  armful  of 
grass.” 
Sam  was  hungry.  He  took  the  oil-meal 
and  hurried  to  the  pasture.  The  hired 
girl  was  drawing  a  pail  of  water  and  Sam 
turned  his  head  to  look  at  her.  He 
stubbed  his  toe  and  down  he  went,  spill¬ 
ing  the  oil  meal  on  the  ground  right 
around  Corn  Plant.  He  got  up  and 
scratched  it  into  the  ground  with  his  boot 
and  then  went  in  for  dinner. 
“  How’d  she  eat  her  meal,  Sam  ?” 
“  Fine,”  said  Sam  with  his  mouth  full. 
“  Can’t  make  out  what  makes  her  beller 
so  then — guess  she’s  thirsty.”  Old  Poll 
was  simply  trying  to  express  her  indig¬ 
nation  at  the  loss  of  her  meal. 
After  dinner  the  farmer  took  a  pail  of 
water  to  old  Poll.  She  wouldn’t  drink  it 
so  he  threw  it  on  the  ground — around  our 
friend  Corn  Plant. 
“  Beat’s  all  how  that  corn  grows,”  said 
the  farmer  a  few  weeks  later.  “  Some  of 
these  scientific  fellers  that  talk  about 
irrigation  and  ‘  soluble  plant  food’  ought 
to  see  that.  It’s  all  on  account  of  that 
deep  plowin’  I  gave  ’em.  But  for  that 
stump  there  I’d  a-given  that  hill  a  deeper 
touch  than  the  rest.  I’ll  bet  I’ll  get  an 
ear  on  that  hill  that’ll  take  a  prize.” 
Corn  Plant  chuckled  to  himself,  while 
old  Poll  winked  her  eye  as  she  reflected 
how  much  that  lame  leg  had  taught  her. 
*  *  * 
Tame  Birds  Killing  Insects. — R. 
Bingham  writes  to  Insect  Life  that  he 
found  great  trouble  in  keeping  his  glass 
garden  free  from  plant  lice  and  other  in¬ 
sects.  He  placed  an  Indigo  bird  in  the 
house,  and  it  soon  diminished  the  num¬ 
ber  of  wasps,  flies  and  lice.  He  thinks 
many  of  our  birds  might  be  domesti¬ 
cated  so  as  to  stay  in  the  out-door  gar¬ 
dens  during  summer  ,and  ^live  among 
house  plants  during  winter.^ 
IN  PRESS. 
Fruit  Culture, 
and  the  Laying  Out  and 
Management  of  a  Country 
Home. — By  W.  C.  Strong,  Ex- 
President  of  the  Massachusetts  Hor¬ 
ticultural  Society,  and  Vice-Presi¬ 
dent  of  the  American  Pomological 
Society.  Illustrated.  New  revised 
edition,  with  many  additions,  mak¬ 
ing  it  the  latest  and  freshest  book 
on  the  subject. 
Contents. 
I.  Rural  Homes— Choice  of  Locality— Treat¬ 
ment— A  Good  Lawn— The  Approach. 
II.  Fruits— Location  of  the  Fruit-Garden— Suc¬ 
cess  In  Fruit-Culture— Profit  in  Fruit  Cul¬ 
ture. 
III.  How  to  Procure  Trees — Quality— How  to 
Plant— Time  to  Plant — Preparing  the  Land 
— Fertilizers— Cutting  Back— Distances  for 
Planting. 
IV.  Care  of  the  Fruit-Garden— Irrigation— Ap¬ 
plication  of  Fertilizers— Thinning  the  Fruit 
—Labels. 
V.  The  Apple— Insects  Injurious  to  the  Apple. 
VI.  The  Pear-  Dwarf  Pears— Situation  and  Soil- 
Pruning— Ripening  the  Fruit— Insects  In¬ 
jurious  to  the  Pear— Diseases. 
VII.  The  Peach— In  jurious  Insects  and  Diseases  of 
the  Peach— Nectarines. 
VIII.  The  Plum— Insects  and  Diseases  of  the  Plum 
—Apricots. 
IX.  The  Cherry— Insects  Injurious  to  the  Cherry. 
X.  The  Quince -Insects  Injurioiis  to  the  Quince. 
XI.  The  Grape  —  Grape-Houses  —  Varieties— In¬ 
sects  Injurious  to  the  Grape— Mildew. 
XII.  The  Currant — Insects  Attacking  the  Currant 
#  —The  Gooseberry. 
XIII.  The  Raspberry— The  Blackberry. 
XIV.  The  Strawberry. 
XV.  The  Mulberry— The  Fig— Rhubarb— Aspar¬ 
agus. 
XVI.  Propagating  Fruit  Trees — From  the  Seed— By 
Division— By  Cuttings— By  Layers— By  Bud¬ 
ding— By  Grafting. 
XVII.  Insecticides— Fungicides— Recipes. 
“  Mr.  Strong  gives  evidence  of  that  thorough  grasp  of 
the  subject  which  he  has  gained  from  30  years'  experi¬ 
ence  as  an  orchardist.  His  book  is  a  simple,  clear, 
well-condensed  manual  of  practical  information  on 
the  fundamental  principles  involved  in  the  success¬ 
ful  cultivation  of  each  species  of  fruit.”— Boston 
A  dvertiser. 
In  no  branch  of  Intelligence  has  there  been  so 
much  advance  as  in  horticulture.  Every  year  solves 
new  problems  insoluble  before,  and  with  new  ideas 
new  books  follow.  It  is  in  just  this  line  (in  the  en¬ 
deavor  to  elucidate  fundamental  principles)  that  Mr. 
Strong  believes  he  finds  an  unoccupied  Held,  and  this 
book  is  the  result.”— Thomas  Meehan,  in  Gardener's 
Monthly. 
“  A  most  inspiring  little  book,  and  one  that  fairly 
makes  the  mouth  water,  the  subjects  treated  are  so 
suggestive  of  flavor  and  ttnencsB."— Philadelphia 
Ledger. 
“There  is  very  little  in  this  book  that  will  not  be 
found  applicable  to  fruit  culture  in  the  South  as  well 
as  the  North.” — Charleston  Nervs  and  Courier. 
“The  author  has  shown  excellent  judgment  in 
giving  the  particular  information  which  small  fruit 
raisers  wish  to  know.”— Boston  Transcript. 
“  The  directions  are  specific  enough  to  be  under¬ 
stood  by  beginners  and  wise  enough  to  be  of  profit  to 
experienced  fruit  growers.”— Home  and  Farm  (Louis¬ 
ville). 
Price,  in  one  volume,  liimo.,  cloth,  $1. 
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