490 
FANCIER S’ JOURNAL AND POULTRY EXCHANGE. 
may be called good mothers. They have from three to six 
at a litter, and, as they are all of some value, they should 
not be destroyed. They tend their young very carefully, 
but, being of a clumsy nature, are apt to knock them about 
if disturbed suddenly or too soon. I therefore should advise 
plenty of litter, and beyond a peep to see that they are all 
right, they should not be touched for a few days. You can 
regulate this according to the temper of the doe you have to 
deal with. The bucks are fine, burly fellows, and require 
very little attention. 
“ This variety is often troubled with ear-gum. I have 
seen rabbits that have been neglected with their ears quite 
full. This is very painful to them, and would make them 
scream out if they were handled. To remove this, cleanse 
them well with a slender bit of stick, and sprinkle a little 
flour of sulphur in the ear occasionally.” 
The few American breeders who have tried the Belgians 
do not report so favorably on them. They have not proved 
profitable, being both indifferent breeders and poor mothers. 
They require a large hutch, and the bucks need more room 
for exercise than other varieties. If confined in too small a 
space, they get dull and lose their vigor. 
The illustration we present with this article was reduced 
by our own artist from a larger engraving by Harrison 
Weir, which appeared in the Poultry Review a short time 
ago. 
HARRY’S CHICKENS. 
Sammy Brent “ lived way down South,” and was just as 
full of mischief as a boy of thirteen could be. One evening 
he came home after a ramble through the woods and by the 
river, and asked his brother Harry, who was eight years 
younger than himself— 
“Harry, wouldn’t you like to have some funny chick- 
ens ? ” 
“ Indeed I ’m just sure I would,” answered Harry. 
“ Well, you take these three eggs and put them in a box 
of sand, and set it in the sun, and after a while you ’ll have 
three of the funniest chickens you ever saw.” 
Harry followed his brother’s directions, and morning, 
noon, and night, he might be seen watching for his brood 
to poke their bills up out of the sand. At last, one hot day, 
just before noon, the sand began to move, and the queerest 
kind of a chicken came out. It had a long, horny bill, a 
long, flat body, without feathers or wings, four feet, and a 
tail nearly as long as its body. As soon as Harry’s excited 
eyes could see clearly, he exclaimed : “ Oh ! oil ! it’s a alli- 
gator ! it’s a alligator come out of an egg.” 
If Harry had been a little older he would have known 
that the alligators bury their eggs in the sand and wait for 
the sun to hatch them, and as soon as the young alligators 
appear, the mother conducts them to the water . — Hearth 
and Home. 
FREAKS OF A CAT. 
Friend Wade : When an acquaintance of mine went to 
take possession of a small leased farm, he found a large cat 
occupying the premises, sole “ monarch of all he surveyed,” 
but he peacefully yielded the right of possession without per- 
suasion or entreaty ; neither did he exact pledges from the 
newcomer. But there was a few things that grimalkin 
liked. He preferred to lodge in the barn, making occasional 
visits to the house by day. But when milking-time came, 
the old cat was around, and showed his bringing up. Taking 
position a little way from the milker, he would stand or 
sit up like a trick dog, and uttering a snappish mew, would 
strike spitefully with one and then the other paw, until the 
stream of milk was directed towards him, and when hit in 
the face, would lap and snuff and swallow until he had his 
fill ; then taking to all fours again, would turn deliberately 
and lazily around, and as he walked away with an air of 
satisfaction, seemed to say, “I have had a good full meal of 
that which is not bad for a cat to take.” 
William Atwood. 
Big Flats, July 22d, 1874. 
A LION CAPTURED ALIVE. 
The .Russian River (Ky.) Flag says: “J. B. Baker, of 
this place, has two boys, aged about eighteen and twenty 
years, living on the old Chenoweth ranche, on the Ross 
Mountain, five miles above the mouth of Russian River, 
and about twenty miles on an air line westerly from Healds- 
burg. Some weeks ago the boys killed a large female pan- 
ther, or California lion, that measured nine feet from tip to 
tip. The week before last their dogs treed a young male 
lion, supposed to be one of the cubs. The boys had heard 
that Woodward would pay a good price for a young Califor- 
nia lion, and they determined to capture the animal alive. 
One climbed the tree and threw a noose over the lion’s head. 
After tying the noose securely, they got another rope around 
his hind legs, and then lashed him to a pole, lowered him 
to the ground, and carried him home alive and unhurt. 
The feat was not performed without some risk, for the lion 
is a year old, and nearly six feet from tip to tip, but the 
boys managed the capture so well that neither got hurt — 
except that one had a finger slit by the sharp claws of the 
beast.” 
PLAGUE OF MICE. 
We are familiar, in this country, with the plague of grass- 
hoppers, army worms, and other noxious animals, but have 
happily been spared from the devastations caused by mice 
in large bodies, such as not unfrequently have ravished por- 
tions of Europe. 
Quite recently certain parts of Hungary have been terri- 
bly afflicted in this manner, to so great an extent, indeed, 
that in a single district the entire crop of sixty thousand 
acres was completely consumed. In another district ten 
thousand acres were destroyed in two weeks, not a grain, nor 
blade of straw, nor root being left — entire fields having been 
cleared, according to the statement, “as bare as a floor.” 
Every attempt made to reduce the hordes of these animals 
failed. Ditches were dug and filled with water ; but they 
soon became choked up with the dead bodies, the number 
destroyed being counted by hundreds of thousands, and yet 
without any appreciable impression being made upon the 
supply. The country was filled with immense numbers of 
hawks, eagles, owls, and other predaceous birds, together 
with foxes, weasels, wild-cats, etc.; but the devastations still 
continues, and there is no telling where it will end. 
MEN, ANIMALS AND INSECTS. 
A man of thirty, weighing on an average a hundred and 
thirty pounds, can drag, according to Regnier, only a hun- 
dred and twenty pounds. The proportion of the weight 
drawn to the weight of his body is no more than as twelve 
