JtH.Y 7. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
267 
is expected to support a plant of one kind or other on every 
square of five or six feet. 
At first planting, and while the trees are little, this does 
not seem too much; but when they grow up, and the boughs 
of the Apple-trees touch each other, it seems wonderful how 
the small fruits can grow at all; and though it would be 
preposterous saying they did not derive much injury from 
such a position, yet I have seen good crops raised under 
such shade, and an orchard-was pointed out to me which 
was partly shaded by standard Apple and other trees, yet 
as many as two hundred bushels of Gooseberries were ga¬ 
thered for market from an acre of it, besides the larger 
fruit, of which I have an imperfect knowledge. 
Now, all this to be done on land that resembled a newly- 
laid-down road, from the multitude of stones, rather than a 
cultivated garden, may appear strange; while the quantity 
of larger fruits is almost marvellous at some seasons ; but, 
be it remembered, these do not occur every year, that this 
county is no more exempt than others from the general 
uncertainty that hangs over such things; however, here 
we have good crops of both large and small fruits from the 
same ground, with the consoling reflection, that if one kind 
fails it is likely another will prosper, so that the heavy 
expense attending the culture of such a plan does not lack 
its reward in some shape or other; but I must leave my 
notes on individual fruits, Ac., till another time. H. B. 
POULTRY-YARD REPORTS. 
I observe the return of a poultry-yard at page 1C9 of 
your Journal, from “ A. Z.,” but I do not consider it quite 
so good as mine. The return of eggs is nearly the same, 
but his hens are all Cochin-China, and more than half of 
mine are of inferior breeds. 
I observe, too, that his fowls cost him upwards of 9d. 
each per month, and I reckon mine at something under fid. 
My return of eggs last month (May), from sixteen fowls, 
was 970. My other ten hens were sitting, or with chickens. 
My present stock is twenty-nine full-grown fowls, ninety 
chickens, and eighty-five ducks, of different ages, the whole 
cost me, each day, something under Is. fid., viz.:— 
s. d. 
5 lbs. of rice, boiled. 0 G 
8 quarterns of grains. 0 2 
4 ditto of pollard, at Is. 0 9 
2 ditto of barley, or wheat. 0 5 
Food for chickens, say. 0 2 
1 0 
This will come to a trifle less than “ Smith’s Mixture,” at 
the end of a year, and I have not a sign of any disease 
j amongst my stock. I may as well mention, that I am killing 
! my young ducks on this food, at six weeks old, weighing up- 
| wards of three pounds." 
There was an error in the printing of my last report; for 
| “hens and ducks cat in the month,” it should have been 
“ hens and ducks sat in the month.”—S. P. 
With respect to the roup not being contagious, I will just 
mention, that we have kept Dorking fowls seven years, and 
; in that time have had no disease among them. Last Christ¬ 
mas we unfortunately bought some fowls at the Birmingham 
show, which arrived with running eyes, and all the symptoms 
of roup. We thoughtlessly let them go with the rest, think¬ 
ing it might be only the confinement that affected them ; im¬ 
mediately every one of our fowls caught it, one after another, 
and had it severely, and a fine cock sent to us three months 
after, when we hoped we had pretty nearly got rid of the 
complaint, caught it, but fortunately had it lightly. It is 
curious that the only two that died were the two cocks, 
though they appeared less ill then the hens, but they died 
after two or three days illness. The best remedy, after 
trying all recommended in The Cottage Gardener, was a 
spoonful of castor-oil one day, and then feeding them with 
bread or barleymeal sopped in beer; this brought all round 
which were not very bad in three or four days. We were 
more than three months getting rid of it, and during that 
time had scarcely any eggs. We had a sad loss in one of 
our finest liens lately. She had just been let out with her 
brood of chickens, and was bathering in the sand, when she 
suddenly started up and fell down backwards, dead. We ] 
can assign no cause, unless she got something in her wind¬ 
pipe. We lost a fowl once before in the same way, and 
found a piece of grass in her windpipe. 
I send you a summary of my poultry-yard, in case you 
like to insert it. All January and February the fowls had 
the roup, which accounts for so few eggs. 
Month. 
U-i 
O 
t* m • 
GJ ri tn 
.O g tn 
= K H 
55 
Sitting Hens 
or 
Hens with 
Chickens. 
No. of Chickens 
Hatched. 
Deaths of 
Chickens. 
Food. 
•1 • 
j?s§ os 
cs « K# 
w 
Expense. 
1853. 
£ s. d. 
January. 
12 7 
.» 
• • 
.. 
• • 
February . 
12 23 
• • 
.. 
• * 
• • 
March. 
12 128 
2 
.. 
xs Q M c 
April . 
12 168 
4 
10 
4 
cfl ^ 
B ei B o 
BOC/fk 
May. 
11 1 88 
6 
29 
9 
8 6 8 3 
2 2 7 
Of the thirteen chickens which died most were squeezed 
to death by the mother as soon as hatched; two had wry 
necks and were killed; and one died naturally from drooping 
and moping.—W. A. E. 
In The Cottage Gardener of the 2nd of .Tune you 
wish readers to furnish you with accounts from their poultry - J 
yard similar to “ A. Z.’s.” 
I give you mine for the months of February, March, and 
April, 1859; and I think it as well to state, that I was from 
home in the month of February, and had a servant who 
either stole, or did not properly account for the eggs, as you 
will perceive by the table underneath. 
Number of 
1853. Hens. 
No. of 
Eggs. 
r 3 
a> 
0 
Died. 
Cost per Month. 
Cochin - China. 
a 
X 
£ s. d. 
February 1 11 
54 
,, 
• • 
1 Sack of barley 0 18 0 
March.... 11 
258 
67 
3 
' 2 bushels do. 0 8 0 
. Grits for chicks 0 3 0 
"2 bushels of 
April .... 11 
270 
39 
2 
barley . .080 
Grinding one 
.bhs. for chicks 0 0 6 
Total .. 
582 
96 
5 
£1 17 6 
I have a cockerel from Shanghae, who has brought up 
two broods of chickens, and is now taking to a third brood, 
my hens beginning to lay twelve to fourteen days after 
hatching.—G. H. C. 
A COTTAGE GARDENER’S HOLIDAY. 
How we arrived, or where we came from, no matter; 
suffice it, the 7th of June, 1853, and on one of the finest 
mornings that ever enlivened the face of man, we found 
ourselves at the Woodstock-road Station, waiting for the 
train to convey us to Oxford. All the world were expected 
there on that day, so of course we very naturally included 
our own important selves. Yes, our own important selves ; 
the I singular would appear too forlorn upon an occasion of 
a great floral gathering, the installation of a Chancellor of 
the University, and the conferring of, we do not know how 
many Doctors degrees to boot. No, no, it must be a plural 
number this time. 
Well, we are arrived at the Oxford Station at last, safe as 
to our own necks, that is one comfort; so with a determi¬ 
nation to enjoy ourselves, and remain in peace and good will 
with all the world, we will fearlessly cypher what obser¬ 
vations intrude themselves upon the tip of our pencil, as 
memoranda in perpetuity of what we saw and thought. 
We wend our way to the Bodleian library, having long 
