January 20. 
THE COTTAGE GAKDENER. 
313 
analogy, the Shanghae and the Poland will generate stock 
which will gradually become worthless in the course of a 
few seasons. To liave tlie cross perfect, every bird must be 
i of the first generatio]i; the parents of eaeli “mongrel” must 
be of the separate breed, whose good qualities it is our 
, desire to combine. I do not say positively that such dete¬ 
rioration will take place with fowls; but there is much 
I greater reason, <1 priori, for believing that it will, than that 
I it will not. Therefore, let us endeavour to persuade our 
friend, “ A. S. W.,” to give us the result of his experiments 
in a few years time, after he has tried to perpetuate the 
stock of his cross-bred birds from one generation to another. 
Permit me, now that I have pen in hand, to say a few 
words upon a “Subscriber's” treatment of a poor hen, 
I labouring under “ inllammation of the egg-passage.” I 
' verily believe he killed it; and as he is anxious to know from 
your readers whether he could have devised any better plan 
, of treatment, I venture to suggest {mcdiciis sum) that ho had 
better have left the poor creatm'e alone. A warm bath for 
a fowl! Whoever heard of such a thing? Wet, cold, and 
damp featliers would undo all the good, if any, that a warm 
bath might have effected. If simply he had wrapped tlie 
hen in warm flannel, and placed it before the fire, without 
irritating the poor wretch with tartar-emetic, calomel, and 
rhubarb, this hen whom he now mourns might still have 
been the pride of the harem. I do most positively believe 
(and I hesitate not to declare it) that hundreds of animals 
of dift'erent kinds are yearly killed by the over-otficiousness 
of their anxious possessors. There is a disease to which 
pigs are peculiarly obnoxious, bearing, with the vulgar, the 
elegant name of “ the staggers.” And, in my slight porcino 
experience, I have lost several by this, or rather by med¬ 
dling with this, malady. Bleed him and purge him, say 
the learned. I liave done so, and they have invariably died. 
But last summer, “ the staggers ” threatened my little farm¬ 
yard again. But no more bleeding and calomel for me. 
Keep him warm, and leave him idoiic, was my motto; and 
the only two pigs attacked recovered. This may bo a mere 
accidental coincidence. I do not say positively that it is 
not. But still it has been a lesson to me ; I will not meddle 
with Dame Nature any more. This position is equally 
tenable with fowls, and I am sure it is with humanity. 
More than half the people who complain would get well 
without a physician ; but they will send for him; and, get; 
ting credit for spontaneous cures, like Belinda’s Betty, the 
Doctor is “ praised for labours not his own.”— Edgar Shep- 
' I'ARD, Enfield. 
I [With what Mr. Sheppard says relative to cross-breeding, 
we entirely concur; but not so as to leaving poultry to 
“Dame Nature,” if they are seriously disordered. Warmth 
and change of diet will usually do mucli for them, but we 
have seen too many cases of cure in all our domestic ani¬ 
mals, not to know that medicine can do much in arresting 
the progress of their diseases. We wish any of our readers 
who have a hen egg-bound would try the effect of giving 
her ergot of rye. Three five-grain doses of the powder, 
mixed with a little meal and water, at intervals of ten 
minutes, might be sufficient.— Ed. C. G.] 
BOUQUET D’AMOUR. 
There is but one step between the sublime and the ridi¬ 
culous. No wonder the cook thought so; for I was in a 
j towering passion one morning, to find the mince-pies spoilt 
i again; not baked enough! and after such repeated tuition, 
I striving to impress her with the tact and economy of the 
; thing (viz.), directly the bread is taken out of the oven it 
merely requires a small quantum of fuel to engender renewed 
heat, sufficient for the baking mince, or any other fragile 
pies of that order whatsoever. Alas I for bachelors orders; 
“ what should they know about orders ?”«♦»»»* 
, However, the mince-pies were not “ half-baked,” and the 
demon possessed the man. I dare not reiterate what I said 
on that eventful morning; but what I did, I state to my own 
shame and satisfaction. 
I procured fresh wood in a fury; I caused the oven to 
become heated in a fury ; and the oven roared; and I 
furiously roared at the cook, steutor-stating, that if she did 
not choose to make pies according to specification, and bake 
them properly,—a nice healthy brown, fit for Christians to 
partake of—so soon as that particular quantity of wood had 
exploded, I would come and do them myself! 
Wonderful! Now I seriously think of it, it certainly 
was wonderful. The cook did make and bake some fresh 
pies beautifully, without retaliating a single word. No, she 
did not even shake her fist at me ! I presented her with a 
glass of port in the evening; she deserved a bottle; but, 
as I was going to observe, in the height of all this hubbub, 
I strode with measured steps, though not slow, into the 
garden, thoroughly disgusted, wreaking anathemas, and as 
far as my recollection serves me, consigning cooks and 
bachelors establishments to the possession of all the caloric 
powers. 
A change comes o’er the spirit of this rage. In one * 
instant the tide of my vituperacious anger was turned to 
shame and sorrow; and how ? Why, at that single love- . 
beaming glance of a i)iu’o inoffensive flower, a Christmas rose, ; 
peering laughingly at me through a hand-glass, which I had 
placed over it as a protection from the winter storms. Often . 
and often have I experienced the same fascination, become ! 
humanised as it were with this sweet fellowship; and I 
have more than once thought, if ever I should have the mis- 1 
fortune to lose my faculties, that the sudden presentation of 
a beautiful flower, would, in preference to anything, tend to 
the resumption of my reason. 
'The fair rose became at once endeared to me ; it must be 
culled and placed by my fireside, and remain there cherished 
and loved for tho future of its existence. I secured the 
humble admonitor, and communed with it, as I suppose 
most other people would do, who ever cull a flower with the 
like feelings. 
A thought! Another!! It is done. I gently insinuate 
these Russian violets between each leaf of my Cluistmas 
rose, and secure their stalks to the rose-stalk tenderly with 
sewing cotton, introducing into the cup of the flower as 
many violets as can bo pleasantly passed without very much 
distorting the petals of the rose, carefully allowing the 
pistil and stamens to remain fully exjjosed in the centre. I 
then procured the largest and most rounded violet leaves, 
and place them as a circled foundation directly beneath the 
white petals of the rose, when it represented, according to 
my idea, the appearance of a new and beautiful passion¬ 
flower; a bouquet, not for the hand, but worthy to present 
to a lady, and become secured on her bosom. 
My interpretation reads thus— 
BOUQUET D’AIIOUE. 
Evergreen as a foundation, enraycd with pure spotless 
white ; centre true blue, with the gentlest sparkle of yellow 
(jealousy; and where is true love ever found without it ?), 
showing itself in just proportion, by the peeping stamens of 
the rose. 
I really think Covent Garden ought to sport this bijou ; 
it should, and just possibly would, cause a run amongst the 
liachelors. My own sweet pet is wafting its odours in the 
desert of my solitary room, and chiding me even now.—E. 
SINGULAR ATTACHMENT. 
I HAVE a small white cockatoo, and a rough-haired terrier 
dog, which have formed a mutual attachment for each 
other; the affection of the bird is, however, perhaps the 
strongest. No sooner does the dog, who sleeps in the 
stable, make his appearance before the parlour-window of a 
morning, than the bird is all anxiety and restlessness to get 
at him ; and when he is admitted into the room, she will 
fly down from her perch, and welcome him with the utmost 
delight, and testify her joy by expanding her wings, rubbing 
against his legs, and nestling herself as close to him as 
possible. He, in his ttirn, licks her over, takes her into 
his mouth, and is very careful not to hurt her. They lie 
together upon the hearth-rug, or upon a chair. When let 
out into the garden they gambol upon the grass-plot; and 
she attends him in his rounds about the premises. Bly 
sitting-room has folding doors, which are generally open 
most of the day during the summer, and the bird has free 
egress and ingress as she pleases, and being strong on the 
wing, much of her time is spent in the shrubberies, or on 
the tops of our highest trees. It is a beautiful sight to see 
her winging her flight along the face of the dark line of 
