FANCIERS’ JOURNAL AND POULTRY EXCHANGE. 
581 
THE GROWTH OF A FEATHER. 
In the skin of a bird, where a new feather is to grow, 
there is a little pit, and in the bottom of this an elevation 
or pyramid ; extending up one side of this pyramid is a 
groove, or furrow, deepest at the base, and gradually grow- 
ing shallower until it disappears near the top ; from each 
side of this furrow a great many smaller grooves extend 
around to the other side of the pyramid, and these also de- 
crease in depth, and at last disappear just as they are about 
to meet on the other side opposite the large furrow. The 
whole furrow is covered with skin, and the surface is made 
of the same scales, or flattened cells, that are found over the 
rest of the surface of the body ; but instead of falling off 
when they are pushed out by the new ones below them, they 
become united or welded to each other, so as to form a horn 
coat over the surface of the pyramid ; with ridges on its 
1 ower or inner surface, corresponding to the grooves on the 
pyramid; and, as new cells grow at the base, this coat or 
cast of the surface is pushed upward till it breaks at its thin- 
est part, which is, of course, the smooth part without ridges 
opposite the large furrow ; and then, as it is pushed outward 
and flattened, it assumes the form of a feather, the ridge 
formed in the main furrow being the shaft, while the cast 
of the side grooves form the separate barbs of the vane. 
When all the vane has been formed and pushed forward, 
the pyramid looses its grooves and becomes smooth, and the 
wall now formed on its surface being of the same thickness 
in all parts, does not break, but remains tubular, and forms 
the quill, which is attached to what is left of the pyramid. 
A fingernail, or ahair, is formed from the same kind of scales, 
in the same way, the process differing only in those features 
which give to each organ its special character. Feathers, 
scales, hair, claws, and nails, all are made alike from the 
dead flattened cells crowded to the surface by the process of 
growth . — Popular Science Monthly. 
A DOG THAT AFFECTED FRIGHT. 
The Turf, Field, and Farm publishes the following com- 
ical dog story, prefacing it with the remark that it does not 
vouch for its truth, not remembering where it was found : 
The writer once owned a dog. He was a spurious pointer, 
which a wicked wag once palmed off upon me as a full- 
blooded and well-bred descendant of a well-known hunter, 
noted for his intelligence and his discriminating nose. I called 
him Ponto in his puppyhood ; but as he grew older, and the 
fraud developed, I changed his name to Knave. He was a 
good hunter — for sheep — hut his nose could not he depended 
on for feathered game. He would come to a dead point on 
a grasshopper, and run headlong over a covey of quail the 
next moment. Knave’s best hold, however, was in the cir- 
cus line. He had a very extensive circle of low-bred ac- 
quaintances, and was ringmaster of a canine hippodrome, 
which met every night in the flower garden. 
Knave had been having a deal of fun at my expense, so 
one day I concluded to have a little at his. I took him 
out about half a mile away from home, tied an oyster can to 
his tail, gave him a stimulating kick, and turned him adrift. 
I never suspected the speed there was in that dog. He 
looked like a white and liver-colored comet whizzing through 
space. I have observed that nothing encourages a dog so 
much, or tends more to the development of his speed, than 
to make him a medium for the rapid transit of tinware be- 
tween given points. 
Knave having yielded such splendid sport, I tried him 
again and again, until he began to take an interest in the 
proceedings. He would bark and stand quietly while the 
oyster can was being attached to his thick plebeian tail, and 
then at the word he would start at his highest speed, as if shot 
from a cannon. His affectation of fright was the best piece 
of acting I ever saw, and he quickly seized upon opportuni- 
ties of adding to the sensational features of the display. 
His favorite run of a Saturday afternoon was around the 
circular track surrounding the court-house grounds, to 
which from one to two hundred rural horses were generally 
hitched, all of which would take fright, break their halters, 
and start for home at a lively canter. That noble dog also 
delighted in scudding down a sidewalk crowded with people, 
upsetting the men by running between their legs, and fright- 
ening the women into convulsions. 
Once he grew impatient at the long delay in lashing his 
freight to the tail, and started prematurely, running a hun- 
dred yards at a slapping pace before he discovered that he 
was flying light. He sneaked back, looked sheepishly apol- 
ogetic, backed up again, and waited until a bunch of tin 
clippings was securely fastened. By and by these dog races 
became an old thing with us boys, but the appetite grew upon 
Knave, until he didn’t feel in good health if he missed his 
diurnal “sport.” Then he got to collecting all the tinware 
he found lying around loose, and storing it up for future use. 
If, by any chance, we forgot to exercise him, he would go 
to his tin pile, select a promising oyster can, or section of 
stovepipe, carry it in his mouth to one of his biped friends, 
and beg piteously to have it tied on. 
Knave’s enthusiasm for the turf finally led him on to his 
death. As he grew older, his taste grew more fastidious. 
He came to prefer new tinware to that which was furnished 
by atmospheric oxidation, and, having little respect for 
either moral or statute laws, he stole abundantly from the 
village shop. Finally, an apprentice detected him in the 
act of getting off with a string of pint cups fresh from the 
mint, and gave him a fatal clip with the hammer, which 
caused him to yield up the frisky ghost. We buried him 
on the hill with a hicjacet headboard, bearing an inscription 
to the effect that we could have better spared a better dog. 
Jggg“ The work at the Centennial grounds, in Fairmount 
Park, is progressing very rapidly. The northern portion 
of the foundations for the permanent Memorial Hall, 
together with most of the interior piers, are ready to receive 
the masonry, while the southern front is now receiving at- 
tention. The front, facing south, will be arranged with a 
central projection, as well as one at each end, thus breaking 
the monotony of a continuous front of the long distance 
prescribed for this portion of the structure. In another 
portion of the Park there has been completed a large one- 
story building, and fitted up as a restaurant for the accom- 
modation of the mechanics, who will soon be engaged in the 
erection of the Exhibition Pavilion. Tool-houses and car- 
penter shops dot the ground in every direction ; and there 
are few spots in the city that present a scene of so much 
bustle and activity. For the Exhibition Building, the lev- 
elling of the ground has nearly been completed. The storm 
of Saturday night materially assisted the surveyors and 
workmen in discovering the hollows, as the water filled 
them. Everything preparatory to the driving of piles for 
the pavilions will be completed by the coming week. In 
the meantime work has been commenced upon the wrouglit- 
iron beams, the first of which are to be ready for delivery 
by the 15th of next month. 
