THK CO TTAGE GATIDKN'EH ATJD COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, November 23, 1858. 
125 
from May to September it would grow in a pan of water. Common 
Cactuses and Aloes will do very well in your cold house ; but the Cactus 
truncatus and spectabilis are not common; and none of them like to be 
tinder 45° in winter ; however, they often are. Keep yours in the warmest 
part of tlie house, and give but very little water till the sun is high again. 
Super-Phosphate op Lime {A Constant Subscriber ).—It is composed of 
phosphoric-acid and lime, is a constituent of all cultivated plants, and is 
more beneficial than bone-dust, from which it is made, because it is more 
soluble in water. You may apply it in the spring ami summer to any 
growing crop, at the rate of 9 lbs. to a square rod. Its benefit docs not 
( xtend beyond two crops. 
Pampas Grass (ir. F. B .).—Keep the Pampas in the same pots till 
March, and in a cold pit, if you have one, or in the greenhouse, in frosty 
weather, and out in tine, big out a pit one yard across, and two feet 
deep, and till it with fresh sandy loam, and a little very rotten dung, just 
v- hit one would like for an early bed of Radishes, or Horn Carrots. Plant 
V.i Pampas in the . and water once a week all through the summer. The 
best place for it is uii the grass in front of evergreens, or the back part of 
a plant hol der, next to a, Portugal Laurel. The dark evergreen is to set off 
the beauty of the spikes. 
Dark Crimson Cribbing Rose [Idem). —There is no dark climbing 
Rose. There have been many inquiries for such a Hose, and the Rose- 
growers ought to have raised one before this. 
Licocedrus Cini.ENsrs {A Subscriber from No. 1).—Mr. Beaton said 
that about London, and south of it, this Conifer is of hardiness similar to 
that of the Laurel,—that is, that it usually survives the winter,—but 
occasionally a severe winter cuts it down. He added, that if the York¬ 
shire nurserymen told vou it was not hardy in your latitude, you had 
better trust to them, unless you choose to try for yourself whether it is so. 
This you dee u it courteous to call “unmitigated stuff; ” but we consider 
it sound and truthful information, and we shall not descend to follow your 
example, by applying tire descriptive epithet to your note which it 
entirely merits. You will see in another page that the Libocedrus 
Cltilensis is found to be hardy at Newcastle-upon-Tyne. 
Allamanda Schottii Shedding its Blossom-buds ( A Young Be. 
giitncr ).—We have seen it shed its blossom-buds from the mass of roots 
getting dry, though enough of moisture was given to prevent the leaves 
flagging. A very high temperature, especially at night, wilt also some¬ 
times produce the same result. 
Names of Fruits {11. C., Croydon ).—No. 1. Beurre de Capiaitmont. 
2. Brown Beurre —requires a wall to ripen it. 3. Winter Nelis. Decem¬ 
ber. 4. Beurre tie Ranee. December to April. 5. Crassane —requires a 
•wall to ripen it. (<7. S.).— No, 11. Colmar d'Aremberg. 13. Passe Colmar. 
And the other Easter Beurre. ( Broughton ).—Your Apple seems to be the 
Old Golden Pippin. 
POULTRY SHOWS. 
November 29th and 30th, December 1st and 2nd. Birmingham. Sec., 
Mr. J. Morgan. Entries close November 1st. 
November 30ih and December 1st. Glasgow. Sec., Mr. R.M'Cowan 
Entries close November 17th. 
December 7th and 8th. North Durham. Secs., R. C. Coulson, J. T. 
Duncan, and T. Wetherell. Entries close November 22nd. 
December 8th. Wiltshire. Sec., F. W. Phillips, Devizes. Entries 
close November 30th. 
December 17th and 18th. Halifax Fanct Pigeon Show. See., Mr. 
H. Holdsworth, 57, Woolshops, Halifax. Entries close the 20th of 
November. 
December 29th and 30tli. Burnley and East Lancashire. Sec., Angus 
Sutherland. Entries close December 10th. 
January 3rd, 18.59. Kirkcaldy Poultry and Fancy Bird Stiow. 
January 8th, 10th, 11th, apd J2th, 1859. Crystal Palace (Winter 
Show). Sec., W. Houghton. 
January 20th and 21st, 1859. Liverpool. 
February 3rd and 4th, 1859. Preston and North Lancashire. 
Secs. R. Teebay, and H. Oalcey. 
February 9th and 10th, 1859. Ulyerstone. Sec., Thos. Robinson. 
February 16th and 17th, 1859. Poulton-le-Fylde. Sec., J. Butler. 
N.B .-—Secretaries will oblige us by sending early copies of their lists. 
HOW THE JUDGES PROCEED AT BINDLEY 
HALL, 
“And who,” said the student to Asmodeus, “ are those four 
men, I see walking merrily through the streets so early in tlie 
morning ? ” 
“ They are the Poultry Judges,” was the answer. “ I would 
see them at their work,” said the student. 
In a moment the two were on the glass-roof of Bingley Hall. 
Cheerfully they enter on their work,—many and hearty are the 
greetings between them and familiar faces met with but once in 
1 lie year, and then on this occasion. Yes, they are hearty, for it 
is a poor soul that does not expand, when, after twelve months 
have passed with all their changes and gaps, there is not an 
enlarged feeling at tlie sight of those yet in health and strength, 
who have not been seen since the last shake of the hand and good 
bye ,—last year ,—and who deserve respect. 
And now each produces a book and pencil; and then it is pro¬ 
posed to take a general view before the serious operation begins ; 
and all start together. But each follows his own fancy, and in 
ten minutes they are scattered about. In ten minutes more each 
is looking for the other, and each is eager to remind the other 
that the days are short and light is precious ; and so the work 
begins. They are seasoned to it, and there is nothing of trepida¬ 
tion, or indecision, about them. Hats are taken off, and wide¬ 
awakes, or caps, take their places. Heavy great-coats are laid 
aside, and wrappers substituted. What a metamorphosis. 
“ Come, come,” says the most impatient; “ let us begin.” 
Another attempts a repartee. “ That there will be plenty of time 
to get tired before night.” It does not tell, there is too much of 
truth in it: there is seldom much truth in a telling joke. Then it 
is seen that there remains no one in the place to overlook, and 
overhear any remarks that may be made. Men appointed to take 
out the birds remain in another part of the building till they are 
called. Now for the first class. Forty-nine pens. The four 
divide, one to the beginning, one to the end, and the other two 
to different parts of the class. Each takes a solitary review of 
it, and then all meet. Every Judge has marked in his book those 
pens he thinks most deserving of distinction ; and now for the 
comparison. All have fixed on the prize pen, and there is no 
doubt. Now for the other prizes : there is more discussion here; 
and, at last, all go together to view all the marked birds. The 
awards are nearly settled. Then the birds must be handled. It 
is, in truth, a searching ordeal ; and now some of the favourites 
will lose their intended honours. Close examination reveals little 
defects that were unseen before, and every pencil is at work. Now 
all have been handled, and the men retire. The class is finished. 
“Pity,” says one, as he passes one of his pens, “that hen has 
two sides to her face.” “If I could take the cock from one, and 
the hens from another, I could beat them all,” says a second; 
and so it is done. Then follow chickens, then hens, then pullets, 
and all go through the same observation. 
When six classes are finished, then the awards are given in at 
the office. Here are four or five writing, as for life; but tlie 
moment the Judges enter everything stops, and fresh books are 
opened, wherein to register them. Careful men, those Judges ; 
old stagers. I warrant the decisions. Everyone looks for a seat; 
he knows he will want all his strength and energy. Does anyone 
doubt it ? Look at that Dorking class,—1G0 entries, and many 
of them as much alike as possible. 
With a half sigh, one of them goes to the end of it. Where on 
earth is he going ? All up that side, down the other, round 
that corner. Ah ! at last he is at the end. Half an hour 
passes, and they are not yet comparing notes. Now they are 
seeking each other, and at last they meet. They look serious. 
“Well,” says one, “what have, you done?”—“ I have marked 
half the class.”—“ So have I.” Now they compare. They baye 
twelve first-prize pens. No talk yet of going round together : 
each must get rid of some of his pets. Now compare. Twenty 
pens are marked by all the Judges. Walk round, gentlemen, 
and get rid of some of them. They must. Now call the men to 
catch them. There are forty pens to handle. Nothing is spoken 
before the men ; but birds are handed from one to the other 
with sapient looks, and fingers rest on certain spots. Numerous 
are the notes now made. Now crooked breasts and bumpy backs 
are discovered ; now faulty claws, and numberless little defects 
that are unseen to the casual observer. The twenty pens are 
reduced to ten ; but these again must be reduced to five. And 
now the men are in requisition again, in the same class; and 
then the Judges walk hurriedly and together from pen to pen. 
They take out birds themselves now; and though we cannot hear 
what they say, still they are talking fast; and once more they go 
from pen to pen. Then they consult, and then one more look, 
and one more comparison. Ten minutes’ close conversation; 
every man with his pencil on his book ; a few marks, and tho 
great prizes are awarded. Even after this, so anxious are they, 
that they take one more walk. Then they draw a long breath ; 
the most numerous class is judged, but it has occupied more than 
an hour. 
The Cochins do not take as long. But here there appears 
to be some difficulty in deciding, so many pens are good ; but 
their defects, when they have any, are more easily discovered. 
But there is marching and counter-marching, though not so much 
handling. The Judges begin to look tired, and they look at 
their watches with some anxiety. Will they go and sit down ? 
No; refreshments are brought, and they take them standing, or 
walking about. They don’t joke much now: we have only 
heard one for an hour; that was in the Silver-pencilled Ham- 
burghs, when it was proposed to pass them over, merely saying, 
all the prizes were taken by Mr. E. Archer. 
