THE COTTAGE GAR1)P:KEU. 
PV.nilUARY 1'.). 
Poiitrr of wrelcliedly-bad colour, markings, and carriage, 
which appears also to have found sncli favour in “Tats- 
Tiur.t's” eyes, that lady might, I think, have, stooil a much 
fairer chance of the cup ; her Almiiuds and hlack Faiilnih 
being both, undouhtedly, good of their kinds, and well worthy 
tlie high commendation tlunj received.— Coi!i>on,\r, TniAt, 
Ldiithtn. 
EVERY ONE FOR flfS OWN FANCY. 
“ Sirs,” cried the umpire, “ cease 3’our pother. 
The creature’s neither one, nor t’ other.” 
“ Sri.KNnii) pen of birds,” said an enthusiast, before the 
prize Brahma I'outras, at Birmingham. “What are they?” 
asked the person to whom the remaik was addressed. 
“Brahma Boutras," replied the first; “ the noblest fowls, 
the hardiest chickens, the best layers, excellent for the. table, 
consuming little, and producing mitch.” 
“But how are tliey bred ?” 
“ Imported, my dear sir,” wai’ining on his subject; “im¬ 
ported from India liy an American gentleman, who fortu¬ 
nately raised enougli to s])read these inc.stimalde birds.” 
“ His name?” asked the querist. 
“Dr. BennM.t,” was the rej)!}’. 
“I thought so,” said a slander by. “Impure, sir. Dr. 
Bennett never had a pure bird in his life. IMr. Bnrnam’s 
are the only good birds.” 
“ ilr. Burnam ! ” shouted the first; “he got only a few 
from the Doctor; crossed tliern all manner of ways; sold 
them at large prices ; and then said they were mongrels.” 
“Gentlemen,” said a fourth, “they are none of tliein 
pure.” 
“What, sir!” screamed all three at once, “all imjmre! 
I will hi.' answerable for mine,” excl.iimed each. 
“ Nasty great brutes,” said a stamler by. “Talk of lay¬ 
ing; look at my Golden spangles—they are fowls; lay as 
many eggs, eacli of tliem, as two of your Brahmas. Look 
at tlie cock ! ” 
“ Yes, look at him,” said another, “ a nasty hen-tailed 
creature; neither cock nor lien.” 
“I tell you, sir, he is the correct moss, and no fowl is 
equal to them.” 
“Nonsense,” said a Inirly man from behind; “ they are 
none of them worthy to 1)0 called fowls. Gome hei'e,” and 
he led them to a pen of Game. “ d'liere,” said he, exult- 
ingly, “there are birds; the cock has a tail, and all that 
belongs to his sex; tliey are hardy, and the owner c.an always 
look at them with pleasure.” 
“Especially,” cried a voice, “the first day the young cocks 
take to figliting. If you w.ant your children to be brutalised, 
and yonr yard to look like a slaughter-house, keep Game 
fowls; they will annoy both yonr neighbours and yourself. 
But see,” pointing to a pen of Cochins; “there are birds 
that are faultless ; they stay at home, lay lots of eggs -•” 
“ .\ml every one costs you a penny,” said a new comer ; 
I “they eat, each one, as much as a donkey; they are afraiil 
i of a shower of rain ; they are continually w'anling to sit, and 
j are the real poultry stepmothers.” 
“ I quite agree with each of you,” said a sleek listener, 
1 “ and it is ditllcult to meet with perfection. I believe we, 
in my class, are as near to it as can be, and few will he bohl 
enough to find fault with such as these—” pointing to a i)en 
of Dorkings. “At least, here you havi? something to eat. 
and that of the very best quality.” 
“ So you ought,” shouted half-a-dozen. “Delicate brutes; 
I you must choose your soil, give them the wliole run of the 
place, and then some supercilious .Tndge will tell you the 
comb is incorrect, or the claws badly defined, or some such 
nonsense. 1 hate such things,” continued one, “ and like 
a breed where every man can judge for himself, like my 
Bolands, for instance. Here tliey are.” 
“Well, it is wonderful!” said a dapiier little man, “how 
anyone can be so deceived as to fancy such birds. Wliy, 
gentlemen, they are continually changing. First, they liad 
no beards; then they must not appear without them. Now, 
a cock ceases to he a Boland cock if he lias a comb; then 
they are subject to disease of the head when the top knot is 
growing. It is notorious they arc prone to be humiibacked ; 
in fact, they have no constitutions. All amateurs should 
j seek to combine beauty, symmetry, and utility. Now, my 
' Bencilled Hamburghs possess all these. Tiiey are siriall 
eaters, lay many eggs, are always cheerful and healthy.” 
' “Too bad! Too bad!” said another; “why, everyone 
, knows there is more roup among Bencilled Hamburghs than 
any other bird; and then, the idea of putting all your 
I chickens out to wet-nurse because the mothers will not 
rear them.” 
“ Gentlemen,” cried the last, “you are all right in finding 
fault with each other’s fowls. You are all wrong in keeping 
them. There is nothing so beautiful as a Bantam. The 
; eggs, though small, are delicious in flavour; they are not 
troublesome.” 
“ Oh! ” cried one, “ you know you may set a hundred 
eggs for two chickens.” 
“ 1 could eat four of them at one meal,” said another. 
&c., &c. 
As I was following them, I ventured to ask which fowd 
was the best to keep, and amidst a chorus of, “ Cochins”— 
“ Won’t sit”—“ A hnndred-and-twenty eggs in five months ” 
—“ Hamburghs ” — “ Ronpy ” — “ For the table ”—“ Milk 
sop’s fowls” — “I’lireepence a-day” — “Fight”—“Got no 
tails”—“A few' drops of rain are enough”—“For three 
sittings of eggs”—“Chickens come out”—“Head and tail 
I up”—“Die like rotten sheei) ”—“ Cross-bred ” — “ Between 
j fourteen and fifteen days”—and so on, I fled precipitately, 
! believing no fowl would answer my purpose. 
As I was leaving the show yard, I wtis tapped on the 
shoulder by a gentleman, who said—“ 1 was very amused, 
sir, at the scene you have just left. It is astonishing men 
should allow' themselves to be so blind to the defects of 
i their pets, and to imagine they have found perfection. Let 
me recommen 1 you my favourite fowl, the Spanish. You 
w'ill have no trouble with them, and such eggs!—two of them 
make a meal.” “ Are they good sitters ? ” asked I. “Why, 
no,”saiilhe; “ they do not sit.” “I suppose the chickens 
are hardy ? ” “ Yes, after they are fledged.” “ Not before ? ” 
said I. “ I must admit,” was his reply, “ they are delicate 
wdien very young.” “ Well,” w'as my remark, “ I fear they 
will not suit me.” “ Sony for it,” was the remark ; “ for you 
must admit tiny are free from all the defects of the others.” 
—AAtATETm. 
GOT.DEN PHEASANT,S vermn, SPANGLED 
HAMBURGHS. 
{Coiiliniicd from jmge dfitl.) 
No—'tis belter to treat this affair of nicknaming the 
I Golden Bheasants seriously;—I told yon that I sliould do 
I it in a truly jocose, Sbandyan humour; but, I see there is 
I more of ignorance than of conceit in it: wherever I detect 
th(^ latter it shall not pass Scot free. 1 must freely quote 
lht‘ llev. Jlr. Dixon; bicanse, his hook is really “ the head 
, .and front of the offending.” ’Tis not the first time, that I 
j have had to wage war against, and, 1 hope, again to defeat, 
! one or two puerile dogmas in liis book on Domestic Poultry. 
' It will be recollected, that, in his hook, he denounced all 
' bearded Polish fowds“to the fattening coop !’’—and//icrc- 
/incthe Birmingham .fudges, next year, disipialified them,— 
for ilr. Dixon said so and so! It cost me much inkshed; 
but right at last prevailed. Yet, T am glad to testify, that no 
Author has written so earnestly, and so w'ell on Poultry; 
except wdiere practical knowledge and experience are de¬ 
manded, to clear up a diflicnlty;—then, he flies for aid, to 
! others. 
Poultry Books w'cre scarce, wdien he wrote; and so men 
were easily led ; and what committee men saw in a book, 
they too readily adopted in their schedules. 1 submit, that 
nothing cair be more coirfuscd, than the account Mr. Dixon 
j gives of what he, in unlucky hour-, would call Hamburghs ;— 
he “ shows no cause w'hy,” w hatever. 
This unfortunate cognomen of Hamburgh, upon which 
he stumbled, was, to him, a constant entanglement—a Pro- 
I crirstes bed; so that, having adopted it, he must stretch, or 
lengthen; ])are down, or clip, the narrres of his fowls, to fit 
: it! Nor after all, is sindi confusion to be wondm'ed at; when 
, a w'llter so much ilepoiids upon others, and their, of course 
