THE COTTAGE GARDENER, 
280 
i July 14. 
Randall for the service; and I shall not easily forget the l 
solemnity of the occasion. It was a bright, clear, summer’s | 
day, and all was perfectly still in that isolated spot, except j 
the gentle murmuring of the fitful breeze as it quivered j 
through the branches of a large pear-tree that overhung the 
cottage. Beyond this, the only sounds were the deep tones 
of the vicar’s voice, and the laborious breathings of the 
dying man, as he sat, propped with pillows, in an arm chair, 
while his wife and I were the only audience present. The 
vicar’s voice and manner were deeply impressive, and the 
words seemed to fall with double weight on the ear upon so 
momentous an occasion. 
“The service was concluded; and after paying a sad far e- 
I well to the invalid we left the cottage. I only once saw him 
} again, and he was then almost insensible of my presence. A 
| few hours passed away, and his spirit was before the throne 
I of the God who gave it; his wife a widow, and his children 
I fatherless! • 
“ Often, when on a visit to the vicarage, have I stolen 
away to the quiet churchyard, and as I gazed upon the 
green mound which covers his grave, I have pondered over 
the life of poor Frank Randall, and thought how full of 
lessons and of warning was his melancholy career.” 
Let us ponder upon his life and death too. I have 
already often laid before my readers the horrible sin of 
drunkenness, and urged and implored them to flee from it 
as from a serpent. Here is another instance of its awful 
consequences, one which passed under the very eye of the 
writer, and which, indeed, is “full of lessons,” and full 
“ of warning." 
It speaks to members of benefit clubs very pointedly, 
and very loudly. It shows the peril of holding their meet¬ 
ing at public-houses. It warns them to avoid the haunts of 
sin; to keep their useful and desirable institutions holy; to 
assemble together in places where there is no temptation to 
commit sin ; and also to be strict in their rules, and tem¬ 
perate in the refreshment they partake of; for such is the 
heart of man, that the least liberty given to the flesh lets in 
j a flood of iniquity. 'When the managers of benefit clubs 
are men who reulhj fear God, they do not dare to hold their 
meetings even near the haunts of Satan. 
It speaks pointedly and loudly to woman. It bids her be 
sober, and a keeper at home; it bids her be clean, careful, 
attentive to the comfort of her husband, careful of her 1 
money, and watchful over herself. It bids her beware, lest 
her own conduct drives her husband from his own fireside ; 
nothing is so likely to do this as an uncomfortable, ignorant, 
dirty, quarrelsome, or talking wife. I do not mean, a chatty, 
cheerful-spoken wife, but a grinding , tiresome, everlasting 
talker. No excuse for sin will be admitted at the judgment 
day; but when we provoke one another, much of our 
brother's blood will be asked for at our hands. 
It speaks—oh 1 how loudly it speaks—to man! It says, 
flee from the very first approach of sin; “abstain from all 
appearance of evil; ” “ sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth 
death.” It says, heware of a steady character, when it has 
no root. It is a subtle snare. It “indeed appears beautiful 
outward, but within is full of dead mens bones, and all un¬ 
cleanness.” Oh! beware of every respectable appearance 
1 that does not spring from faith in Jesus Christ, and that is 
; not the fruit of His Spirit. It never can stand in the day 
of trial. Satan walks and simpers beside respectable 
worldly people; he is not a bit afraid of them. Oh! let 
him not walk softly and fearlessly beside you, dear readers ! 
, Doubt, suspect yourselves, if you do not “ count all tilings 
but loss, for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ 
Jesus ; ” and you can tell in a minute whether you do that 
or not. All else is Satan’s handiwork, and leads to death. 
There is only one “ strong tower," and that is “ the name 
of the Lord.” Flee into it, and leave your worldly respecta- 
| bility behind; it will follow yon, depend upon it, and abide 
| with you too; but if you stay behind with it, you will mourn 
1 the day that ever you were born. Readers! ponder much 
over the grave of poor Frank Randall! 
I 
! 
ADVICE TO POULTRY EXHIBITORS. 
Having so much opportunity of observing the health of 
j the poultry at the different Exhibitions at which I am j 
engaged, I feel anxious to communicate the causes which I ; 
fancy produce the evils of which we have so often heard 
complaint. In the first place, I wish to say a few words on 
the form and manner of sending poultry. Many of the ; 
birds are placed in expensive baskets, but these are badly i 
constructed for their comfort and health, some being too | 
tall, unwieldy, and unnecessarily large, with the sides much 
too close for the free circulation of air. I would recommend 
an open-sided basket, without canvass; for, from my obser¬ 
vations, I am convinced that canvass is one of the worst of 
all materials with which to surround a package; the birds, 
sitting down low, are kept by it in a heated and bad atmo¬ 
sphere ; and most of those appearing worse for the journey, 
at the last Plymouth, and other Shows, came in baskets lined j 
with canvass, boxes, or very close-sided packages. My own i 
White Bantams were in a close basket two days, and, 
! although well fed, were very ill, but easily recovered by 
attention. I purchased two pens of “Hamburghs,” all of 
which showed evident symptoms of exhaustion, and I dis¬ 
covered they came some distance in close or canvass-sided 
baskets. The symptoms were those of what is called “Ex¬ 
hibition fever;’’ swelled and pale faces, froth from the eyes, 
a drooping tail, loss of appetite, and appearance of great 
exhaustion ; but I find a careful attendance, with generous 
diet, green food, Ac., soon brings them round again; and I 
must state my belief that this complaint is not contagious, : 
having myself bought a White Cochin cockerel, from the I 
Birmingham Show, in which this disease was much de¬ 
veloped, and although the bird was turned to run with all I 
my stock, the disease w'as not communicated to them. 
I give a sketch of the best basket I have seen, which holds 
two pens of birds ; the top of open-work ; apertures at each 
end: a closely-wickered division; and open-work doors, which 
fasten in the middle. Let there be no canvass covering. 
I will take this opportunity of requesting parties, gene¬ 
rally, to be more careful, as they can hardly expect valuable 
fowls to come safely 300 miles, packed, as I received them at 
Plymouth, in orange boxes! and others in baskets barely 
large enough to contain them if dead ! 
I would also wish to call attention to the very careless 
manner the labels are attached; I should say one out of each 
ten is generally misplaced, causing much confusion in 
penning the birds, and still more after the exhibition, in 
replacing them in the baskets. 
At the last June shows, I believe the sales have fallen off, 
and this may be attributed to the foolish prices attached. I 
do not allude to the reserve, or prohibitory, sums of a i 
hundred or a thousand pounds, but to three guineas on 
a pen of Bantams, worth, at most, four-and-sixpence. In 
this case, the owner, a poor woman, wished to sell, but I 
suppose she had heard of high prices, and wishing to 
participate, over-priced her birds, and so had to take them 
back again. In many other instances, instead of fair market 
prices, about double their value is marked on them. 
I am very anxious to see a better material used for 
sprinkling over the bottoms of the pens. I have seen sand 
used, as at Birmingham ; long straw, in the basket pens, at 
Cheltenham; and sawdust, at the late Plymouth,shows, and 
I observe great objections to all of them: sand, as dirting the 
birds; and sand, as well as the saw-dust, mixes too much 
