Vol. LVII. No. 2507. NEW YORK, FEBRUARY 12, 1898. si per year. 
POULTRY BUSINESS WITHOUT INCUBATORS. 
GOING BACK TO MOTHER IIEN. 
Cheap Incubation in Indiana. 
The “ chicken fever” season is fast approaching, and, 
as it is a contagion that affects so many of us, perhaps 
it would benefit some one to know how badly I was 
affected last year, and how I got through with it. 
There comes a time when every box. barrel, kettle or 
pan attracts my attention, and if it can be converted 
into a hen’s nest, it is made to do duty as such. Last 
spring, when the fever struck me, I was very ill-pre¬ 
pared for it. For a few years, all the poultry on the 
farm had been raised on the share system by our 
tenants, who had the proverbial bad luck with chick¬ 
ens, and we had all winter been buying our eggs. 
The most careful search of the premises brought to 
light only 10 hens and an incubator that had never 
incubated satisfactorily. As this was the fourth ma¬ 
chine we had tried—all with indifferent success— I did 
not want to risk another, so this one was filled with 
nice fresh eggs bought from neighbors, that had been 
saved on purpose for us. The 
machine was run exactly by 
printed directions, but as I ex¬ 
pected from past experience, the 
“ self-regulator ” was one that I 
must regulate myself, and of 
course, at the critical periods, 
something happened (I guess), 
but I do not know what; anyway 
I got about a 20-per cent hatch. 
This made me “as mad as a wet 
hen ”, yet I was determined to 
have chickens. Having read in¬ 
cubator literature so much in 
which all makers declared that 
chickens early in the season or in 
large numbers were possible only 
by the use of their individual ma¬ 
chines, I had been believing that 
old biddy was entirely a back 
number, and any one who de¬ 
pended upon her an old fogy. 
But just to spite all incubator 
men, I decided to try her any¬ 
way. Remember, she was con¬ 
spicuous by her absence on our 
farm, but in March, I made a tour 
of the neighborhood, and engaged 
all 'the sitting hens that my 
friends did not want to use. 
The next step was to get ready 
a sitting room. An unused tool 
house was selected, which could 
be made as dark as desirable. The nest problem comes 
next. A man, of course, would have made a uniform 
lot of boxes at quite an expense, but I could not make 
them, and was not going to hire it done, so I scoured 
the entire premises, and a motley set of nests I got, 
indeed. I wanted something that could be burned if 
lice or disease broke out. Each nest was nicely lined 
and provided with a slatted door or cover. Every¬ 
thing was now ready for “ biddy incubators”. 
Late in the evening, I started out hunting, with 
open-meshed sacks for game bags. Into these were 
chucked the sitting hens that came up to my standard, 
and acted as though they really meant business. On 
arriving home, the nests were partially filled with 
dummy eggs, the hens put on them with very little 
ceremony, the slatted doors were securely closed, 
something thrown over all to shut out the light, and 
Mrs. Hen was left to her own meditations. Thus 
every hen was disposed of. The next morning, the 
covers were taken off carefully, and if the hens re¬ 
mained quietly on the eggs, they were left off ; but if 
any seemed scared or restless, they were again shut 
up in darkness. The next evening, a second lot of 
hens were brought in and treated in like manner, and 
the first ones were set on good eggs, every one of 
which was dated. By this means, all infertile eggs 
could be removed, and the nests kept full of fertile 
ones ; this not only saved room, but much disappoint¬ 
ment when hatching time came. 
The third morning after the hens were set, they 
were taken off the nests, turned loose in the room, 
where there was fresh wafer, corn, gravel and a box 
of dust. After a free-for-all fight—which all indulged 
in—a good bath, and with crops full of food and drink, 
my “self-regulators” were anxious, indeed, for their 
nests. For a few times they had to be driven to the 
right ones, or if they got on the wrong ones, I re¬ 
moved them immediately. I had builded better than 
I knew in having my nests of all sizes, shapes, and in 
all locations. The hens in barrels did not fly to nests 
up higher, neither did those from the high nests seek 
low ones, and so on. 
When hatching time came, all nests with eggs found 
to be pipping were carefully covered or removed, that 
the sound of the chicks might not disturb the other 
sitters. My previous experience with brooders had 
been so very satisfactory that I was well prepared to 
care for the chicks in this way. In 12 hours after the 
eggs began to hatch, all the chicks were removed to a 
well-warmed brooder, and the hens reset. It is sur¬ 
prising how few chicken raisers know that a hen will, 
from choice, sit six weeks, and hatch a larger per 
cent—barring accidents—the second sitting than the 
first. I had one hen that hatched three sittings with¬ 
out one day’s rest, and she- sat the last three weeks 
without a cover, and could have left the nest if she 
had wanted to. 
When wishing to reset a hen, she was rather rudely 
driven off the nest and out of the sitting room. The 
nest was thoroughly cleaned and refilled, or a new 
one put in its place and filled with eggs ; the door of 
the sitting room was left open and, if the hen went 
back to her nest—which she almost invariably did— 
well and good ; if she did not, the nestful of eggs was 
given to the first new comer. 
My hens cost from 15 to 25 cents each, and after they 
had worked for me six weeks, were, with a few weeks’ 
rest, worth as much as they cost. I kept no account 
of the number of sitters bought, but it will answer to 
say that I hatched 1,800 chicks, as well as quite a num¬ 
ber of turkeys and ducks. At one time, I had over 50 
hens at woi’k, and while they were a care, to be sure, 
yet I have proved to my entire satisfaction, as well as 
that of our neighbors, that an incubator is not abso¬ 
lutely necessary to the commercial poultry business. 
One hour in the morning was all I needed to feed, 
water and put back on the nest, 50 hens. By going 
out quite early, opening all the nests, and taking off all 
hens that did not come, then closing the nests again so 
that each hen would get her food and exercise, I could 
leave them for an hour, then go and raise all the doors, 
letting all go on that knew where to go, and driving 
the others; I could then shut them in for 24 hours 
without any uneasiness. The work of igathering the 
hens from the neighbors was more than paid for in 
the satisfaction I got from the ride and visit. While 
out attending to the sitters at night, the little chicks 
were gathered up and taken to the brooders. Some 
one has said that^the successful 
incubator man is born not made, 
and that no woman has sense 
enough to hatch with one. This 
may or may not be true, but so 
long as I can buy a sitting hen 
for 25 cents, use her six weeks 
and sell her for as much as she 
costs, I will let well enough alone, 
as well as the latest “ self-regu¬ 
lating incubator ”. Of all the 
hens I moved and removed, set and 
reset, not one per cent failed me. 
Indiana, mrs. w. w. stkvens. 
CHERUB AND CHICKS. 
The picture on this page shows 
a very interesting and interested 
family group. It’s dinnertime for 
the chicks. If they have any fear 
of the little lady in the center of 
the group, that fear has all been 
dispelled by their anxiety to get 
at that feed. But we don’t be¬ 
lieve that they have much fear, 
and that is just the way we like 
to see chickens brought up. There 
is a great advantage in having 
them so tame and sociable that 
they will not run away as though 
their lives depended upon their 
speed, every time any one comes 
among them. It’s a good thing, 
too, to have the children brought up to handle, feed 
and care for the poultry and other pets. The little 
girl (as well as the chickens), belongs to Mr. Homer 
J. Brown, and was just two years and three months 
old when the picture was taken. If she doesn’t grow 
up into a successful hen woman, it will not be because 
of lack of early association with the business. The 
chickens shown are all purebred Rose and Single Comb 
White Leghorns, S. C. Brown Leghorns, Buff Leghorns, 
S. S. Ilamburgs, and W. C. Black Polish. They, evi¬ 
dently, have a wide range, and should be healthy and 
vigorous in consequence. These farm-bred chickens 
with free range, beat those raised in close yards, and 
breeders are more and more coming to appreciate this 
fact. Notice the two coops in the background with a 
small slatted run in front of each, thus giving the hen 
more liberty. The same kind of a run, but covered 
with wire so as to keep in the chickens, is an excel¬ 
lent thing to confine them while small to prevent their 
running out in the wet grass, until large enough to 
escape harm. Many diseases are contracted because of 
the small chicks running out in the dew or rain. 
A GROUP OF FARM CHICKENS AT DINNER TIME. Fig. 34. 
