FANCIER®S’ 
JOURNAL AND POULTRY EXCHANGE. 
309 

them at all as represented. Finding that I had been mis- 
led, I wrote, several weeks ago, to the gentleman of whom 
I bought them, giving my opinion of the breed in general, 
and asking whether his experience agreed with mine or not, 
as I wished to know whether I was the exception to the 
rule. His reply was this: ‘“I must confess I think you are 
right about Black Russians; like yourself, I was deceived 
by the misrepresentations made by others.” This gentle- 
man, it should be mentioned here, was entirely honorable 
in the transaction, and when he sent the fowls he particu- 
larly requested that if I was not satisfied with them I should 
fix my own price. It being a fair business transaction and 
no fault of his, I paid what I promised. 
But to the economic value of these fowls. Does anybody 
know any good of them? I expected to sell a few dozen 
eggs, and so advertised, but I have been a little disap- 
pointed. I have three hens. One has laid two clutches of 
eggs, one clutch four in number, and the other two; another 
hen has laid one clutch of egg, one in number. Thus from 
my three hens I have received seven eggs in as many weeks. 
Now that is a “prodigious report,’ but it is true, and the 
best I can make. 
I find the fowls small, though one hen is at least a year 
old. In size they do not compare favorably with ordinary 
barnyard stock; and as egg producers, I should as soon 
think of keeping a flock of canary birds to keep me in cus- 
tards and omelets. I hope those who are breeding them 
more extensively will be able to say something good in 
their favor, and I beg their pardon for the apparently 
strong language I may use, but a more arrant humbug in 
feathers than Black Russian fowls has never come to my 
notice. 
I feel all the more free to write this article since I have 
not sold my fowls. My opinion of them can be no more 
strongly expressed than by stating that I have turned them 
out with some barnyard fowls, and still I get no eggs from 
them. They are still for sale to any one who wants that 
class of stock. They cost me something over twelve dollars, 
but it will not be a safe operation for any one to offer me 
. half that sum if he does not want the fowls. It may be that 
they will lay some time, but I shall not wait any longer. 
Under the circumstances, of course, I have no eggs to sell 
at present, hence I hope I shall not be ungenerously accused 
of advertising my stock. The only axe I have to grind is 
the one which will soon take their heads off. I would, 
however, like to have enough of eggs to pay for the corn 
and wheat they have eaten. 
T have not written this without fear that I may be doing 
some one an injury unconsciously, and yet I feel that if my 
experience is not an exceptional one, it-is but right and 
proper that the public should know the economic value, not 
only of this breed of fowls, but of every other, and that if 
their defects are great they should be known to all. 
; A. N.R. 
Lock HAVEN, Pa. 

(For Fanciers’ Journal.) 
HEREDITARY FANCIES. 
Frrenp WADE. 
After being out among my fowis, or studying the pub- 
lished pedigrees, reading the numerous advertisements, or 
pouring over again and again the many interesting articles 
in the poultry papers, I sometimes talk in the presence of 

my family with no little enthusiasm upon the subject and 
matter in which I find so much interest, and not unfre- 
quently our only daughter will exclaim, ‘‘Now, Pa, you 
surely are chicken crazy!’’ And yet she ardently loves her 
Sebrights and canary, and would welcome to the line a 
pair of pigeons also. But, because of her earnest exclama- 
tions with so much seeming astonishment, I ask myself, 
“‘ Why is it thus with me? and why can some see the finest 
points in a fowl and cannot discover a serious blemish in a 
horse ?’’ There must be a legitimate cause for all this, and 
I have been led to look for it in my own case, as I fre- 
quently look after the track and developments in breeding 
stock. Now, sir, it must be blood. All this in me could 
not be the result of mere education, for my father never 
really had the hen fever in his life; even the slight symp- 
toms were succeeded with a chill that left its mark; so that I 
could not have inherited or have been educated by him to 
a fancy for poultry. Only a few years ago I sent him the 
finest trio of Light Brahmas I could select from my flock, 
and he soon lost interest in them, and is now spending the 
leisure hours of his old age in a greenhouse, whilst I antici- 
pate one of the felicities of advanced years to be an excel- 
lent henhouse and the finest lot of poultry in the world. 
The dreams of my childhood were haunted with the appear- 
ance of exquisitely-marked chickens; and why may not life 
be made serene in the actual indulgence of an early fancy ? 
But there was one thing I never engaged in for a moment: 
cock fighting, even in the excitable period of youth, was 
repulsive to me. : 
But to the question, where did I get this fancy for poul- 
try, loving such pets more ardently than the other domes- 
ticated animals with which our homes are made agreeable 
and pleasant, adding to their comfort and enjoyment? I 
will tell you, as I believe, I inherited it—in a measure at 
least—although I have not enlisted to write an essay on the 
transmission of quality. As I am credibly informed, my 
great-grandmother, in her early pioneer life, took eggs with 
her to her far-off rural home, surrounded at the time with 
dense forests. The eggs were of but little use but for food; 
at least they alone were a faint encouragement for a brood 
of chickens. Without some mode of hatching, what could 
she do, for there were none but wild fowls in the vast 
woods that surrounded their new home? But her ingenuity 
supplied the deficiency, and her perseverence brought out 
the desired brood, from which, in after days, she had to 
fight away the foxes and hawks. The mode of incubation 
was novel indeed to us moderns, who rush things by steam 
when nature’s processes are too slow. This ancient lady 
actually hatched out the chicks, with which the farm 
was stocked with poultry, by folding the eggs carefully in 
cotton, and carrying them in her bosom by day and com- 
mitting them to the warm hearthstone by night, so that the 
brood was brought out successfully. And this one fact 
alone, if there was no other in the history of my ancestors, 
leads me to suppose that I have inherited something of my 
tastes with their blood. 
I also discover a moral in this, and would speak from the 
standpoint of experience, and say to parents, if your child 
evinces a bent of mind and a desire for a lawful, honorable 
pursuit, cultivate it; for I apprehend that many a good 
farmer, merchant, and mechanic has been spoiled in the 
attempt to make a poor minister, lawyer, or doctor; and 
vice versa is equally true. I now call to mind the case of a 
young man, heir to a large estate, whose desire was to be 
