Time.—4 hours. Sufficient for one entree.

Seasonable.—With peas, from June to August.

COW-POX, OR VARIOLA.—It is to Dr. Jenner, of Berkeley, Gloucestershire, who died in 1823, that we owe the practice of vaccination, as a preservative from the attack of that destructive scourge of the human race, the small-pox. The experiments of this philosophic man were begun in 1797, and published the next year. He had observed that cows were subject to a certain infectious eruption of the teats, and that those persons who became affected by it, while milking the cattle, escaped the small-pox raging around them. This fact, known to farmers from time immemorial, led him to a course of experiments, the result of which all are acquainted with.

TENDRONS DE VEAU (an Entree).

910. INGREDIENTS.—The gristles from 2 breasts of veal, stock No. 107, 1 faggot of savoury herbs, 1 blade of pounded mace, 4 cloves, 2 carrots, 2 onions, a strip of lemon-peel, egg and bread crumbs, 2 tablespoonfuls of chopped mushrooms, salt and pepper to taste, 2 tablespoonfuls of sherry, the yolk of 1 egg, 3 tablespoonfuls of cream.

Mode.—After removing the gristles from a breast of veal, stew them for 4 hours, as in the preceding recipe, with stock, herbs, mace, cloves, carrots, onions, and lemon-peel. When perfectly tender, lift them out and remove any bones or hard parts remaining. Put them between two dishes, with a weight on the top, and when cold, cut them into slices. Brush these over with egg, sprinkle with bread crumbs, and fry a pale brown. Take 1/2 pint of the gravy they were boiled in, add 2 tablespoonfuls of chopped mushrooms, a seasoning of salt and pepper, the sherry, and the yolk of an egg beaten with 3 tablespoonfuls of cream. Stir the sauce over the fire until it thickens; when it is on the point of boiling, dish the tendrons in a circle, and pour the sauce in the middle. Tendrons are dressed in a variety of ways,—with sauce a l'Espagnole, vegetables of all kinds: when they are served with a puree, they should always be glazed.

Time.—4-1/2 hours. Average cost.—Usually bought with breast of veal.

Sufficient for an entree.

Seasonable from March to October.

TETE DE VEAU EN TORTUE (an Entree).

911. INGREDIENTS.—Half a calf's head, or the remains of a cold boiled one; rather more than 1 pint of good white stock, No. 107, 1 glass of sherry or Madeira, cayenne and salt to taste, about 12 mushroom-buttons (when obtainable), 6 hard-boiled eggs, 4 gherkins, 8 quenelles or forcemeat balls, No. 422 or 423, 12 crayfish, 12 croutons.

Mode.—Half a calf's head is sufficient to make a good entree, and if there are any remains of a cold one left from the preceding day, it will answer very well for this dish. After boiling the head until tender, remove the bones, and cut the meat into neat pieces; put the stock into a stewpan, add the wine, and a seasoning of salt and cayenne; fry the mushrooms in butter for 2 or 3 minutes, and add these to the gravy. Boil this quickly until somewhat reduced; then put in the yolks of the hard-boiled eggs whole, the whites cut in small pieces, and the gherkins chopped. Have ready a few veal quenelles, made by recipe No. 422 or 423; add these, with the slices of head, to the other ingredients, and let the whole get thoroughly hot, without boiling. Arrange the pieces of head as high in the centre of the dish as possible; pour over them the ragout, and garnish with the crayfish and croutons placed alternately. A little of the gravy should also be served in a tureen.

Time.—About 1/2 hour to reduce the stock.

Sufficient for 6 or 7 persons.

Average cost, exclusive of the calf's head, 2s. 9d.

Seasonable from March to October.

A FRENCHMAN'S OPINION OF VEAL.—A great authority in his native Paris tells us, that veal, as a meat, is but little nourishing, is relaxing, and sufficiently difficult of digestion. Lending itself, as it does, he says, in all the flowery imagery of the French tongue and manner, "to so many metamorphoses, it may be called, without exaggeration, the chameleon of the kitchen. Who has not eaten calf's head au naturel, simply boiled with the skin on, its flavour heightened by sauce just a little sharp? It is a dish as wholesome as it is agreeable, and one that the most inexperienced cook may serve with success. Calf's feet a la poulette, au gratin, fried, &c.; les cervelles, served in the same manner, and under the same names; sweetbreads en fricandeau, piques en fin,—all these offer most satisfactory entrees, which the art of the cook, more or less, varies for the gratification of his glory and the well-being of our appetites. We have not spoken, in the above catalogue, either of the liver, or of the fraise, or of the ears, which also share the honour of appearing at our tables. Where is the man not acquainted with calf's liver a la bourgeoise, the most frequent and convenient dish at unpretentious tables? The fraise, cooked in water, and eaten with vinegar, is a wholesome and agreeable dish, and contains a mucilage well adapted for delicate persons. Calf's ears have, in common with the feet and cervelles, the advantage of being able to be eaten either fried or a la poulette; and besides, can be made into a farce, with the addition of peas, onions, cheese, &c. Neither is it confined to the calf's tongue, or even the eyes, that these shall dispute alone the glory of awakening the taste of man; thus, the fressure (which, as is known, comprises the heart, the mou, and the rate), although not a very recherche dish, lends itself to all the caprices of an expert artist, and may, under various marvellous disguises, deceive, and please, and even awaken our appetite."—Verily, we might say, after this rhapsody of our neighbour, that his country's weal will not suffer in him as an able and eloquent exponent and admirer.

VEAL CARVING.

BREAST OF VEAL.



912. The carving of a breast of veal is not dissimilar to that of a fore-quarter of lamb, when the shoulder has been taken off. The breast of veal consists of two parts,—the rib-bones and the gristly brisket. These two parts should first be separated by sharply passing the knife in the direction of the lines 1, 2; when they are entirely divided, the rib-bones should be carved in the direction of the lines 5 to 6; and the brisket can be helped by cutting pieces in the direction 3 to 4. The carver should ask the guests whether they have a preference for the brisket or ribs; and if there be a sweetbread served with the dish, as it often is with roast breast of veal, each person should receive a piece.

CALF'S HEAD.



913. This is not altogether the most easy-looking dish to cut when it is put before a carver for the first time; there is not much real difficulty in the operation, however, when the head has been attentively examined, and, after the manner of a phrenologist, you get to know its bumps, good and bad. In the first place, inserting the knife quite down to the bone, cut slices in the direction of the line 1 to 2; with each of these should be helped a piece of what is called the throat sweetbread, cut in the direction of from 3 to 4. The eye, and the flesh round, are favourite morsels with many, and should be given to those at the table who are known to be the greatest connoisseurs. The jawbone being removed, there will then be found some nice lean; and the palate, which is reckoned by some a tit-bit, lies under the head. On a separate dish there is always served the tongue and brains, and each guest should be asked to take some of these.

FILLET OF VEAL.



914. The carving of this joint is similar to that of a round of beef. Slices, not too thick, in the direction of the line 1 to 2 are cut; and the only point to be careful about is, that the veal be evenly carved. Between the flap and the meat the stuffing is inserted, and a small portion of this should be served to every guest. The persons whom the host wishes most to honour should be asked if they like the delicious brown outside slice, as this, by many, is exceedingly relished.

KNUCKLE OF VEAL.



915. The engraving, showing the dotted line from 1 to 2, sufficiently indicates the direction which should be given to the knife in carving this dish. The best slices are those from the thickest part of the knuckle, that is, outside the line 1 to 2.

LOIN OF VEAL.



916. As is the case with a loin of mutton, the careful jointing of a loin of veal is more than half the battle in carving it. If the butcher be negligent in this matter, he should be admonished; for there is nothing more annoying or irritating to an inexperienced carver than to be obliged to turn his knife in all directions to find the exact place where it should be inserted in order to divide the bones. When the jointing is properly performed, there is little difficulty in carrying the knife down in the direction of the line 1 to 2. To each guest should be given a piece of the kidney and kidney fat, which lie underneath, and are considered great delicacies.



CHAPTER XX.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ON BIRDS.

"Birds, the free tenants of land, air, and ocean, Their forms all symmetry, their motions grace; In plumage delicate and beautiful; Thick without burthen, close as fishes' scales, Or loose as full-blown poppies to the breeze."

The Pelican Island.

917. THE DIVISIONS OF BIRDS are founded principally on their habits of life, and the natural resemblance which their external parts, especially their bills, bear to each other. According to Mr. Vigors, there are five orders, each of which occupies its peculiar place on the surface of the globe; so that the air, the forest, the land, the marsh, and the water, has each its appropriate kind of inhabitants. These are respectively designated as BIRDS OF PREY, PERCHERS, WALKERS, WADERS, and SWIMMERS; and, in contemplating their variety, lightness, beauty, and wonderful adaptation to the regions they severally inhabit, and the functions they are destined to perform in the grand scheme of creation, our hearts are lifted with admiration at the exhaustless ingenuity, power, and wisdom of HIM who has, in producing them, so strikingly "manifested His handiwork." Not only these, however, but all classes of animals, have their peculiar ends to fulfil; and, in order that this may be effectually performed, they are constructed in such a manner as will enable them to carry out their conditions. Thus the quadrupeds, that are formed to tread the earth in common with man, are muscular and vigorous; and, whether they have passed into the servitude of man, or are permitted to range the forest or the field, they still retain, in a high degree, the energies with which they were originally endowed. Birds, on the contrary, are generally feeble, and, therefore, timid. Accordingly, wings have been given them to enable them to fly through the air, and thus elude the force which, by nature, they are unable to resist. Notwithstanding the natural tendency of all bodies towards the centre of the earth, birds, when raised in the atmosphere, glide through it with the greatest ease, rapidity, and vigour. There, they are in their natural element, and can vary their course with the greatest promptitude—can mount or descend with the utmost facility, and can light on any spot with the most perfect exactness, and without the slightest injury to themselves.

918. THE MECHANISM WHICH ENABLES BIRDS to wing their course through the air, is both singular and instructive. Their bodies are covered with feathers, which are much lighter than coverings of hair, with which quadrupeds are usually clothed. The feathers are so placed as to overlap each other, like the slates or the tiles on the roof of a house. They are also arranged from the fore-part backwards; by which the animals are enabled the more conveniently to cut their way through the air. Their bones are tubular or hollow, and extremely light compared with those of terrestrial animals. This greatly facilitates their rising from the earth, whilst their heads, being comparatively small, their bills shaped like a wedge, their bodies slender, sharp below, and round above,—all these present a union of conditions, favourable, in the last degree, to cutting their way through the aerial element to which they are considered as more peculiarly to belong. With all these conditions, however, birds could not fly without wings. These, therefore, are the instruments by which they have the power of rapid locomotion, and are constructed in such a manner as to be capable of great expansion when struck in a downward direction. If we except, in this action, the slight hollow which takes place on the under-side, they become almost two planes. In order that the downward action may be accomplished to the necessary extent, the muscles which move the wings have been made exceedingly large; so large, indeed, that, in some instances, they have been estimated at not less than a sixth of the weight of the whole body. Therefore, when a bird is on the ground and intends to fly, it takes a leap, and immediately stretching its wings, strikes them out with great force. By this act these are brought into an oblique direction, being turned partly upwards and partly horizontally forwards. That part of the force which has the upward tendency is neutralized by the weight of the bird, whilst the horizontal force serves to carry it forward. The stroke being completed, it moves upon its wings, which, being contracted and having their edges turned upwards, obviate, in a great measure, the resistance of the air. When it is sufficiently elevated, it makes a second stroke downwards, and the impulse of the air again moves it forward. These successive strokes may be regarded as so many leaps taken in the air. When the bird desires to direct its course to the right or the left, it strikes strongly with the opposite wing, which impels it to the proper side. In the motions of the animal, too, the tail takes a prominent part, and acts like the rudder of a ship, except that, instead of sideways, it moves upwards and downwards. If the bird wishes to rise, it raises its tail; and if to fall, it depresses it; and, whilst in a horizontal position, it keeps it steady. There are few who have not observed a pigeon or a crow preserve, for some time, a horizontal flight without any apparent motion of the wings. This is accomplished by the bird having already acquired sufficient velocity, and its wings being parallel to the horizon, meeting with but small resistance from the atmosphere. If it begins to fall, it can easily steer itself upward by means of its tail, till the motion it had acquired is nearly spent, when it must be renewed by a few more strokes of the wings. On alighting, a bird expands its wings and tail fully against the air, as a ship, in tacking round, backs her sails, in order that they may meet with all the resistance possible.

919. IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF THE EYES of birds, there is a peculiarity necessary to their condition. As they pass a great portion of their lives among thickets and hedges, they are provided for the defence of their eyes from external injuries, as well as from the effects of the light, when flying in opposition to the rays of the sun, with a nictating or winking membrane, which can, at pleasure, be drawn over the whole eye like a curtain. This covering is neither opaque nor wholly pellucid, but is somewhat transparent; and it is by its means that the eagle is said to be able to gaze at the sun. "In birds," says a writer on this subject, "we find that the sight is much more piercing, extensive, and exact, than in the other orders of animals. The eye is much larger in proportion to the bulk of the head, than in any of these. This is a superiority conferred upon them not without a corresponding utility: it seems even indispensable to their safety and subsistence. Were this organ in birds dull, or in the least degree opaque, they would be in danger, from the rapidity of their motion, of striking against various objects in their flight. In this case their celerity, instead of being an advantage, would become an evil, and their flight be restrained by the danger resulting from it. Indeed we may consider the velocity with which an animal moves, as a sure indication of the perfection of its vision. Among the quadrupeds, the sloth has its sight greatly limited; whilst the hawk, as it hovers in the air, can espy a lark sitting on a clod, perhaps at twenty times the distance at which a man or a dog could perceive it."

920. AMONGST THE MANY PECULIARITIES IN THE CONSTRUCTION OF BIRDS, not the least is the mode by which their respiration is accomplished. This is effected by means of air-vessels, which extend throughout the body, and adhere to the under-surface of the bones. These, by their motion, force the air through the true lungs, which are very small, and placed in the uppermost part of the chest, and closely braced down to the back and ribs. The lungs, which are never expanded by air, are destined to the sole purpose of oxidizing the blood. In the experiments made by Mr. John Hunter, to discover the use of this general diffusion of air through the bodies of birds, he found that it prevents their respiration from being stopped or interrupted by the rapidity of their motion through a resisting medium. It is well known that, in proportion to celerity of motion, the air becomes resistive; and were it possible for a man to move with the swiftness of a swallow, as he is not provided with an internal construction similar to that of birds, the resistance of the air would soon suffocate him.

921. BIRDS ARE DISTRIBUTED OVER EVERY PART OF THE GLOBE, being found in the coldest as well as the hottest regions, although some species are restricted to particular countries, whilst others are widely dispersed. At certain seasons of the year, many of them change their abodes, and migrate to climates better adapted to their temperaments or modes of life, for a time, than those which they leave. Many of the birds of Britain, directed by an unerring instinct, take their departure from the island before the commencement of winter, and proceed to the more congenial warmth of Africa, to return with the next spring. The causes assigned by naturalists for this peculiarity are, either a deficiency of food, or the want of a secure asylum for the incubation and nourishment of their young. Their migrations are generally performed in large companies, and, in the day, they follow a leader, which is occasionally changed. During the night, many of the tribes send forth a continual cry, to keep themselves together; although one would think that the noise which must accompany their flight would be sufficient for that purpose. The flight of birds across the Mediterranean was noticed three thousand years ago, as we find it said in the book of Numbers, in the Scriptures, that "There went forth a wind from the Lord, and brought quails from the sea, and let them fall upon the camp, and a day's journey round about it, to the height of two cubits above the earth."

922. IF THE BEAUTY OF BIRDS were not a recommendation to their being universally admired, their general liveliness, gaiety, and song would endear them to mankind. It appears, however, from accurate observations founded upon experiment, that the notes peculiar to different kinds of birds are altogether acquired, and that they are not innate, any more than language is to man. The attempt of a nestling bird to sing has been compared to the endeavour of a child to talk. The first attempts do not seem to possess the slightest rudiments of the future song; but, as the bird grows older and becomes stronger, it is easily perceived to be aiming at acquiring the art of giving utterance to song. Whilst the scholar is thus endeavouring to form his notes, when he is once sure of a passage, he usually raises his tone, but drops it again when he finds himself unequal to the voluntary task he has undertaken. "Many well-authenticated facts," says an ingenious writer, "seem decisively to prove that birds have no innate notes, but that, like mankind, the language of those to whose care they have been committed at their birth, will be their language in after-life." It would appear, however, somewhat unaccountable why, in a wild state, they adhere so steadily to the song of their own species only, when the notes of so many others are to be heard around them. This is said to arise from the attention paid by the nestling bird to the instructions of its own parent only, generally disregarding the notes of all the rest. Persons; however, who have an accurate ear, and who have given their attention to the songs of birds, can frequently distinguish some which have their notes mixed with those of another species; but this is in general so trifling, that it can hardly be considered as more than the mere varieties of provincial dialects.

923. IN REFERENCE TO THE FOOD OF BIRDS, we find that it varies, as it does in quadrupeds, according to the species. Some are altogether carnivorous; others, as so many of the web-footed tribes, subsist on fish; others, again, on insects and worms; and others on grain and fruit. The extraordinary powers of the gizzard of the granivorous tribes, in comminuting their food so as to prepare it for digestion, would, were they not supported by incontrovertible facts founded on experiment, appear to exceed all credibility. Tin tubes, full of grain, have been forced into the stomachs of turkeys, and in twenty-four hours have been found broken, compressed, and distorted into every shape. Twelve small lancets, very sharp both at the point and edges, have been fixed in a ball of lead, covered with a case of paper, and given to a turkey-cock, and left in its stomach for eight hours. After that time the stomach was opened, when nothing appeared except the naked ball. The twelve lancets were broken to pieces, whilst the stomach remained perfectly sound and entire. From these facts, it is concluded that the stones, so frequently found in the stomachs of the feathered tribes, are highly useful in assisting the gastric juices to grind down the grain and other hard substances which constitute their food. The stones, themselves, being also ground down and separated by the powerful action of the gizzard, are mixed with the food, and, no doubt, contribute very greatly to the health, as well as to the nourishment of the animals.

924. ALL BIRDS BEING OVIPAROUS, the eggs which they produce after the process of incubation, or sitting for a certain length of time, are, in the various species, different both in figure and colour, as well as in point of number. They contain the elements of the future young, for the perfecting of which in the incubation a bubble of air is always placed at the large end, between the shell and the inside skin. It is supposed that from the heat communicated by the sitting bird to this confined air, its spring is increased beyond its natural tenor, and, at the same time, its parts are put into motion by the gentle rarefaction. By this means, pressure and motion are communicated to the parts of the egg, which, in some inscrutable way, gradually promote the formation and growth of the young, till the time comes for its escaping from the shell. To preserve an egg perfectly fresh, and even fit for incubation, for 5 or 6 months after it has been laid, Reaumur, the French naturalist, has shown that it is only necessary to stop up its pores with a slight coating of varnish or mutton-suet.

925. BIRDS HOWEVER, DO NOT LAY EGGS before they have some place to put them; accordingly, they construct nests for themselves with astonishing art. As builders, they exhibit a degree of architectural skill, niceness, and propriety, that would seem even to mock the imitative talents of man, however greatly these are marked by his own high intelligence and ingenuity.

"Each circumstance Most artfully contrived to favour warmth. Here read the reason of the vaulted roof; How Providence compensates, ever kind, The enormous disproportion that subsists Between the mother and the numerous brood Which her small bulk must quicken into life."

In building their nests, the male and female generally assist each other, and they contrive to make the outside of their tenement bear as great a resemblance as possible to the surrounding foliage or branches; so that it cannot very easily be discovered even by those who are in search of it. This art of nidification is one of the most wonderful contrivances which the wide field of Nature can show, and which, of itself, ought to be sufficient to compel mankind to the belief, that they and every other part of the creation, are constantly under the protecting power of a superintending Being, whose benign dispensations seem as exhaustless as they are unlimited.



RECIPES.

CHAPTER XXI.

CHICKEN CUTLETS (an Entree).

926. INGREDIENTS.—2 chickens; seasoning to taste of salt, white pepper, and cayenne; 2 blades of pounded mace, egg and bread crumbs, clarified butter, 1 strip of lemon-rind, 2 carrots, 1 onion, 2 tablespoonfuls of mushroom ketchup, thickening of butter and flour, 1 egg.

Mode.—Remove the breast and leg bones of the chickens; cut the meat into neat pieces after having skinned it, and season the cutlets with pepper, salt, pounded mace, and cayenne. Put the bones, trimmings, &c., into a stewpan with 1 pint of water, adding carrots, onions, and lemon-peel in the above proportion; stew gently for 1-1/2 hour, and strain the gravy. Thicken it with butter and flour, add the ketchup and 1 egg well beaten; stir it over the fire, and bring it to the simmering-point, but do not allow it to boil. In the mean time, egg and bread-crumb the cutlets, and give them a few drops of clarified butter; fry them a delicate brown, occasionally turning them; arrange them pyramidically on the dish, and pour over them the sauce.

Time.—10 minutes to fry the cutlets. Average cost, 2s. each.

Sufficient for an entree.

Seasonable from April to July.

FOWLS AS FOOD.—Brillat Savarin, pre-eminent in gastronomic taste, says that he believes the whole gallinaceous family was made to enrich our larders and furnish our tables; for, from the quail to the turkey, he avers their flesh is a light aliment, full of flavour, and fitted equally well for the invalid as for the man of robust health. The fine flavour, however, which Nature has given to all birds coming under the definition of poultry, man has not been satisfied with, and has used many means—such as keeping them in solitude and darkness, and forcing them to eat—to give them an unnatural state of fatness or fat. This fat, thus artificially produced, is doubtless delicious, and the taste and succulence of the boiled and roasted bird draw forth the praise of the guests around the table. Well-fattened and tender, a fowl is to the cook what the canvas is to the painter; for do we not see it served boiled, roasted, fried, fricasseed, hashed, hot, cold, whole, dismembered, boned, broiled, stuffed, on dishes, and in pies,—always handy and ever acceptable?

THE COMMON OR DOMESTIC FOWL.—From time immemorial, the common or domestic fowl has been domesticated in England, and is supposed to be originally the offspring of some wild species which abound in the forests of India. It is divided into a variety of breeds, but the most esteemed are, the Poland or Black, the Dorking, the Bantam, the Game Fowl, and the Malay or Chittagong. The common, or barn-door fowl, is one of the most delicate of the varieties; and at Dorking, in Surrey, the breed is brought to great perfection. Till they are four months old, the term chicken is applied to the young female; after that age they are called pullets, till they begin to lay, when they are called hens. The English counties most productive in poultry are Surrey, Sussex, Norfolk, Herts, Devon, and Somerset.

FRENCH CHICKEN CUTLETS (Cold Meat Cookery).

927. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast or boiled fowl, fried bread, clarified butter, the yolk of 1 egg, bread crumbs, 1/2 teaspoonful of finely-minced lemon-peel; salt, cayenne, and mace to taste. For sauce,—1 oz. of butter, 2 minced shalots, a few slices of carrot, a small bunch of savoury herbs, including parsley, 1 blade of pounded mace, 6 peppercorns, 1/4 pint of gravy.

Mode.—Cut the fowls into as many nice cutlets as possible; take a corresponding number of sippets about the same size, all cut one shape; fry them a pale brown, put them before the fire, then dip the cutlets into clarified butter mixed with the yolk of an egg, cover with bread crumbs seasoned in the above proportion, with lemon-peel, mace, salt, and cayenne; fry them for about 5 minutes, put each piece on one of the sippets, pile them high in the dish, and serve with the following sauce, which should be made ready for the cutlets. Put the butter into a stewpan, add the shalots, carrot, herbs, mace, and peppercorns; fry for 10 minutes or rather longer; pour in 1/2 pint of good gravy, made of the chicken bones, stew gently for 20 minutes, strain it, and serve.

Time.—5 minutes to fry the cutlets; 35 minutes to make the gravy.

Average cost, exclusive of the chicken, 9d.

Seasonable from April to July.

EGGS FOR HATCHING.—Eggs intended for hatching should be removed as soon as laid, and placed in bran in a dry, cool place. Choose those that are near of a size; and, as a rule, avoid those that are equally thick at both ends,—such, probably, contain a double yolk, and will come to no good. Eggs intended for hatching should never be stored longer than a month, as much less the better. Nine eggs may be placed under a Bantam hen, and as many as fifteen under a Dorking. The odd number is considered preferable, as more easily packed. It will be as well to mark the eggs you give the hen to sit on, so that you may know if she lays any more: if she does, you must remove them; for, if hatched at all, they would be too late for the brood. If during incubation an egg should be broken, remove it, and take out the remainder, and cleanse them in luke-warm water, or it is probable the sticky nature of the contents of the broken egg will make the others cling to the hen's feathers; and they, too, may be fractured.

HENS SITTING.—Some hens are very capricious as regards sitting; they will make a great fuss, and keep pining for the nest, and, when they are permitted to take to it, they will sit just long enough to addle the eggs, and then they're off again. The safest way to guard against such annoyance, is to supply the hen with some hard-boiled eggs; if she sits on them a reasonable time, and seems steadily inclined, like a good matron, you may then give her proper eggs, and let her set about the business in earnest.

CHICKEN OR FOWL PATTIES.

928. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast chicken or fowl; to every 1/4 lb. of meat allow 2 oz. of ham, 3 tablespoonfuls of cream, 2 tablespoonfuls of veal gravy, 1/2 teaspoonful of minced lemon-peel; cayenne, salt, and pepper to taste; 1 tablespoonful of lemon-juice, 1 oz. of butter rolled in flour; puff paste.

Mode.—Mince very small the white meat from a cold roast fowl, after removing all the skin; weigh it, and to every 1/4 lb. of meat allow the above proportion of minced ham. Put these into a stewpan with the remaining ingredients, stir over the fire for 10 minutes or 1/4 hour, taking care that the mixture does not burn. Roll out some puff paste about 1/4 inch in thickness; line the patty-pans with this, put upon each a small piece of bread, and cover with another layer of paste; brush over with the yolk of an egg, and bake in a brisk oven for about 1/4 hour. When done, cut a round piece out of the top, and, with a small spoon, take out the bread (be particular in not breaking the outside border of the crust), and fill the patties with the mixture.

Time.—1/4 hour to prepare the meat; not quite 1/4 hour to bake the crust.

Seasonable at any time.

HATCHING.—Sometimes the chick within the shell is unable to break away from its prison; for the white of the egg will occasionally harden in the air to the consistence of joiners' clue, when the poor chick is in a terrible fix. An able writer says, "Assistance in hatching must not be rendered prematurely, and thence unnecessarily, but only in the case of the chick being plainly unable to release itself; then, indeed, an addition may probably be made to the brood, as great numbers are always lost in this way. The chick makes a circular fracture at the big end of the egg, and a section of about one-third of the length of the shell being separated, delivers the prisoner, provided there is no obstruction from adhesion of the body to the membrane which lines the shell. Between the body of the chick and the membrane of the shell there exists a viscous fluid, the white of the egg thickened with the intense heat of incubation, until it becomes a positive glue. When this happens, the feathers stick fast to the shell, and the chicks remain confined, and must perish, if not released."

The method of assistance to be rendered to chicks which have a difficulty in releasing themselves from the shell, is to take the egg in the hand, and dipping the finger or a piece of linen rag in warm water, to apply it to the fastened parts until they are loosened by the gluey substance becoming dissolved and separated from the feathers. The chick, then, being returned to the nest, will extricate itself,—a mode generally to be observed, since, if violence were used, it would prove fatal. Nevertheless, breaking the shell may sometimes be necessary; and separating with the fingers, as gently as may be, the membrane from the feathers, which are still to be moistened as mentioned above, to facilitate the operation. The points of small scissors may be useful, and when there is much resistance, as also apparent pain to the bird, the process must be conducted in the gentlest manner, and the shell separated into a number of small pieces. The signs of a need of assistance are the egg being partly pecked and chipped, and the cluck discontinuing its efforts for five of six hours. Weakness from cold may disable the chicken from commencing the operation of pecking the shell, which must then be artificially performed with a circular fracture, such as is made by the bird itself.

CHICKEN OR FOWL PIE.

929. INGREDIENTS.—2 small fowls or 1 large one, white pepper and salt to taste, 1/2 teaspoonful of grated nutmeg, 1/2 teaspoonful of pounded mace, forcemeat No. 417, a few slices of ham, 3 hard-boiled eggs, 1/2 pint of water, puff crust.

Mode.—Skin and cut up the fowls into joints, and put the neck, leg, and backbones in a stewpan, with a little water, an onion, a bunch of savoury herbs, and a blade of mace; let these stew for about an hour, and, when done, strain off the liquor: this is for gravy. Put a layer of fowl at the bottom of a pie-dish, then a layer of ham, then one of forcemeat and hard-boiled eggs cut in rings; between the layers put a seasoning of pounded mace, nutmeg, pepper, and salt. Proceed in this manner until the dish is full, and pour in about 1/2 pint of water; border the edge of the dish with puff crust, put on the cover, ornament the top, and glaze it by brushing over it the yolk of an egg. Bake from 1-1/4 to 1-1/2 hour, should the pie be very large, and, when done, pour in, at the top, the gravy made from the bones. If to be eaten cold, and wished particularly nice, the joints of the fowls should be boned, and placed in the dish with alternate layers of forcemeat; sausage-meat may also be substituted for the forcemeat, and is now very much used. When the chickens are boned, and mixed with sausage-meat, the pie will take about 2 hours to bake. It should be covered with a piece of paper when about half-done, to prevent the paste from being dried up or scorched.

Time.—For a pie with unboned meat, 1-1/4 to 1-1/2 hour; with boned meat and sausage or forcemeat, 1-1/2 to 2 hours.

Average cost, with 2 fowls, 6s. 6d.

Sufficient for 6 or 7 persons.

Seasonable at any time.

THE YOUNG CHICKS.—The chicks that are hatched first should be taken from underneath the hen, lest she might think her task at an end, and leave the remaining eggs to spoil. As soon as the young birds are taken from the mother, they must be placed in a basket lined with soft wool, flannel, or hay, and stood in the sunlight if it be summer time, or by the fire if the weather be cold. It is a common practice to cram young chicks with food as soon as they are born. This is quite unnecessary. They will, so long as they are kept warm, come to no harm if they take no food for twenty-four hours following their birth. Should the whole of the brood not be hatched by that time, those that are born may be fed with bread soaked in milk, and the yolk of a hard-boiled egg.

POTTED CHICKEN OR FOWL (a Luncheon or Breakfast Dish).

930. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast chicken; to every lb. of meat allow 1/4 lb. of fresh butter, salt and cayenne to taste, 1 teaspoonful of pounded mace, 1/4 small nutmeg.

Mode.—Strip the meat from the bones of cold roast fowl; when it is freed from gristle and skin, weigh it, and, to every lb. of meat, allow the above proportion of butter, seasoning, and spices. Cut the meat into small pieces, pound it well with the fresh butter, sprinkle in the spices gradually, and keep pounding until reduced to a perfectly smooth paste. Put it into potting-pots for use, and cover it with clarified butter, about 1/4 inch in thickness, and, if to be kept for some time, tie over a bladder: 2 or 3 slices of ham, minced and pounded with the above ingredients, will be found an improvement. It should be kept in a dry place.

Seasonable at any time.

FEEDING AND COOPING THE CHICKS.—When all the chicks are hatched, they should be placed along with the mother under a coop in a warm dry spot. If two hens happen to have their broods at the same time, their respective chicks should be carefully kept separate; as, if they get mixed, and so go under the wrong coop, the hens will probably maim and destroy those who have mistaken their dwelling. After being kept snug beneath the coop for a week (the coop should be placed under cover at nightfall), the chicks may be turned loose for an hour or so in the warmest part of the day. They should be gradually weaned from the soaked bread and chopped egg, instead of which grits or boiled barley should be given; in 8 or 10 days their stomachs will be strong enough to receive bruised barley, and at the end of 3 weeks, if your chicks be healthy, they will be able to take care of themselves. It will be well, however, to keep your eye on them a week or so longer, as the elder chickens may drive them from their food. Great care should be taken that the very young chicks do not run about the wet ground or on damp grass, as this is the most prominent and fatal cause of disease. While under the coop with their mother, a shallow pan or plate of water should be supplied to the chicks, as in a deeper vessel they are liable to drench themselves and take cold, or possibly to get drowned.

CHICKEN OR FOWL SALAD.

931. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast or boiled chicken, 2 lettuces, a little endive, 1 cucumber, a few slices of boiled beetroot, salad-dressing No. 506.

Mode.—Trim neatly the remains of the chicken; wash, dry, and slice the lettuces, and place in the middle of a dish; put the pieces of fowl on the top, and pour the salad-dressing over them. Garnish the edge of the salad with hard-boiled eggs cut in rings, sliced cucumber, and boiled beetroot cut in slices. Instead of cutting the eggs in rings, the yolks may be rubbed through a hair sieve, and the whites chopped very finely, and arranged on the salad in small bunches, yellow and white alternately. This should not be made long before it is wanted for table.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold chicken, 8d.

Sufficient for 4 or 5 persons.

Seasonable at any time.

AGE AND FLAVOUR OF CHICKENS.—It has been the opinion of the medical faculty of all ages and all countries, that the flesh of the young chicken is the must delicate and easy to digest of all animal food. It is less alkalescent than the flesh of any other animal, and its entire freedom from any irritating quality renders it a fit dish for the ailing, or those whose stomachs are naturally weak. In no animal, however, does age work such a change, in regard to the quality of its flesh, as it does in domestic fowls. In their infancy, cocks and hens are equally tender and toothsome; but as time overtakes them it is the cock whose flesh toughens first. A year-old cock, indeed, is fit for little else than to be converted into soup, while a hen at the same age, although sufficiently substantial, is not callous to the insinuations of a carving-knife. As regards capons, however, the rule respecting age does not hold good. There is scarcely to be found a more delicious animal than a well-fed, well-dressed capon. Age does not dry up his juices; indeed, like wine, he seems but to mellow. At three years old, even, he is as tender as a chick, with the additional advantage of his proper chicken flavour being fully developed. The above remarks, however, concerning the capon, only apply to such as are naturally fed, and not crammed. The latter process may produce a handsome-looking bird, and it may weigh enough to satisfy the whim or avarice of its stuffer; but, when before the fire, it will reveal the cruel treatment to which it has been subjected, and will weep a drippingpan-ful of fat tears. You will never find heart enough to place such a grief-worn guest at the head of your table. It should be borne in mind as a rule, that small-boned and short-legged poultry are likely to excel the contrary sort in delicacy of colour, flavour, and fineness of flesh.

HASHED DUCK (Cold Meat Cookery).

932. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast duck, rather more than 1 pint of weak stock or water, 1 onion, 1 oz. of butter, thickening of butter and flour, salt and cayenne to taste, 1/2 teaspoonful of minced lemon-peel, 1 dessertspoonful of lemon-juice, 1/2 glass of port wine.

Mode.—Cut the duck into nice joints, and put the trimmings into a stewpan; slice and fry the onion in a little butter; add these to the trimmings, pour in the above proportion of weak stock or water, and stew gently for 1 hour. Strain the liquor, thicken it with butter and flour, season with salt and cayenne, and add the remaining ingredients; boil it up and skim well; lay in the pieces of duck, and let them get thoroughly hot through by the side of the fire, but do not allow them to boil: they should soak in the gravy for about 1/2 hour. Garnish with sippets of toasted bread. The hash may be made richer by using a stronger and more highly-flavoured gravy; a little spice or pounded mace may also be added, when their flavour is liked.

Time.—1-1/2 hour. Average cost, exclusive of the cold duck, 4d.

Seasonable from November to February; ducklings from May to August.

THE DUCK.—This bird belongs to the order of Natatores, or Swimmers; the most familiar tribes of which are ducks, swans, geese, auks, penguins, petrels, pelicans, guillemots, gulls, and terns. They mostly live in the water, feeding on fish, worms, and aquatic plants. They are generally polygamous, and make their nests among reeds, or in moist places. The flesh of many of the species is eatable, but that of some is extremely rank and oily. The duck is a native of Britain, but is found on the margins of most of the European lakes. It is excessively greedy, and by no means a nice feeder. It requires a mixture of vegetable and animal food; but aquatic insects, corn, and vegetables, are its proper food. Its flesh, however, is savoury, being not so gross as that of the goose, and of easier digestion. In the green-pea season it is usually found on an English table; but, according to Ude, "November is its proper season, when it is plump and fat."

TO RAGOUT A DUCK WHOLE.

933. INGREDIENTS.—1 large duck, pepper and salt to taste, good beef gravy, 2 onions sliced, 4 sage-leaves, a few leaves of lemon thyme, thickening of butter and flour.

Mode.—After having emptied and singed the duck, season it inside with pepper and salt, and truss it. Roast it before a clear fire for about 20 minutes, and let it acquire a nice brown colour. Put it into a stewpan with sufficient well-seasoned beef gravy to cover it; slice and fry the onions, and add these, with the sage-leaves and lemon thyme, both of which should be finely minced, to the stock. Simmer gently until the duck is tender; strain, skim, and thicken the gravy with a little butter and flour; boil it up, pour over the duck, and serve. When in season, about, 1-1/2 pint of young green peas, boiled separately, and put in the ragout, very much improve this dish.

Time.—20 minutes to roast the duck; 20 minutes to stew it.

Average cost, from 2s. 3d. to 2s. 6d. each.

Sufficient for 4 or 5 persons.

Seasonable from November to February; ducklings from April to August.



THE BUENOS AYRES DUCK.—The Buenos Ayres duck is of East-Indian birth, and is chiefly valuable as an ornament; for we suppose one would as soon think of picking a Chinese teal for luncheon, or a gold fish for breakfast, as to consign the handsome Buenos Ayres to the spit. The prevailing colour of this bird is black, with a metallic lustre, and a gleaming of blue steel about its breast and wings.

VARIETIES OF DUCKS.—Naturalists count nearly a hundred different species of ducks; and there is no doubt that the intending keeper of these harmless and profitable birds may easily take his choice from amongst twenty different sorts. There is, however, so little difference in the various members of the family, either as regards hardiness, laying, or hatching, that the most incompetent fancier or breeder may indulge his taste without danger of making a bad bargain. In connection with their value for table, light-coloured ducks are always of milder flavour than those that are dark-coloured, the white Aylesbury's being general favourites. Ducks reared exclusively on vegetable diet will have a whiter and more delicate flesh than those allowed to feed on animal offal; while the flesh of birds fattened on the latter food, will be firmer than that of those which have only partaken of food of a vegetable nature.

ROAST DUCKS.

934. INGREDIENTS.—A couple of ducks; sage-and-onion stuffing No. 504; a little flour.

Choosing and Trussing.—Choose ducks with plump bellies, and with thick and yellowish feet. They should be trussed with the feet on, which should be scalded, and the skin peeled off, and then turned up close to the legs. Run a skewer through the middle of each leg, after having drawn them as close as possible to the body, to plump up the breast, passing the same quite through the body. Cut off the heads and necks, and the pinions at the first joint; bring these close to the sides, twist the feet round, and truss them at the back of the bird. After the duck is stuffed, both ends should be secured with string, so as to keep in the seasoning.



Mode.—To insure ducks being tender, never dress them the same day they are killed; and if the weather permits, they should hang a day or two. Make a stuffing of sage and onion sufficient for one duck, and leave the other unseasoned, as the flavour is not liked by everybody. Put them down to a brisk clear fire, and keep them well basted the whole of the time they are cooking. A few minutes before serving, dredge them lightly with flour, to make them froth and look plump; and when the steam draws towards the fire, send them to table hot and quickly, with a good brown gravy poured round, but not over the ducks, and a little of the same in a tureen. When in season, green peas should invariably accompany this dish.

Time.—Full-grown ducks from 3/4 to 1 hour; ducklings from 25 to 35 minutes.

Average cost, from 2s. 3d. to 2s. 6d. each.

Sufficient.—A. couple of ducks for 6 or 7 persons.

Seasonable.—Ducklings from April to August; ducks from November to February.

Note.—Ducklings are trussed and roasted in the same manner, and served with the same sauces and accompaniments. When in season, serve apple sauce.



THE ROUEN DUCK.—The Rouen, or Rhone duck, is a large and handsome variety, of French extraction. The plumage of the Rouen duck is somewhat sombre; its flesh is also much darker, and, though of higher flavour, not near so delicate as that of our own Aylesbury. It is with this latter breed that the Rouen duck is generally mated; and the result is said to be increase of size and strength. In Normandy and Brittany these ducks, as well as other sorts, greatly abound; and the "duck-liver pates" are there almost as popular as the pate de foie gras of Strasburg. In order to bring the livers of the wretched duck to the fashionable and unnatural size, the same diabolical cruelty is resorted to as in the case of the Strasburg goose. The poor birds are nailed by the feet to a board placed close to a fire, and, in that position, plentifully supplied with food and water. In a few days, the carcase is reduced to a mere shadow, while the liver has grown monstrously. We would rather abstain from the acquaintance of a man who ate pate de foie gras, knowing its component parts.

DUCK'S EGGS.—The ancient notion that ducks whose beaks have a tendency to curve upwards, are better layers than those whose beaks do not thus point, is, we need hardly say, simply absurd: all ducks are good layers, if they are carefully fed and tended. Ducks generally lay at night, or early in the morning. While they are in perfect health, they will do this; and one of the surest signs of indisposition, among birds of this class, is irregularity in laying. The eggs laid will approach nearly the colour of the layer,—light-coloured ducks laying white eggs, and brown ducks greenish-blue eggs; dark-coloured birds laying the largest eggs. One time of day the notion was prevalent that a duck would hatch no other eggs than her own; and although this is not true, it will be, nevertheless, as well to match the duck's own eggs as closely as possible; for we have known instances wherein the duck has turned out of the nest and destroyed eggs differing from her own in size and colour.

DUCKS.—The Mallard, or Wild Duck, from which is derived the domestic species, is prevalent throughout Europe, Asia, and America. The mallard's most remarkable characteristic is one which sets at defiance the speculations of the most profound ornithologist. The female bird is extremely plain, but the male's plumage is a splendour of greens and browns, and browns and blues. In the spring, however, the plumage of the male begins to fade, and in two months, every vestige of his finery has departed, and he is not to be distinguished from his soberly-garbed wife. Then the greens, and the blues, and the browns begin to bud out again, and by October he is once more a gorgeous drake. It is to be regretted that domestication has seriously deteriorated the moral character of the duck. In a wild state, he is a faithful husband, desiring but one wife, and devoting himself to her; but no sooner is he domesticated than he becomes polygamous, and makes nothing of owning ten or a dozen wives at a time. As regards the females, they are much more solicitous for the welfare of their progeny in a wild state than a tame. Should a tame duck's duckling get into mortal trouble, its mother will just signify her sorrow by an extra "quack," or so, and a flapping of her wings; but touch a wild duck's little one if you dare! she will buffet you with her broad wings, and dash boldly at your face with her stout beak. If you search for her nest amongst the long grass, she will try no end of manoeuvres to lure you from it, her favourite ruse being to pretend lameness, to delude you into the notion that you have only to pursue her vigorously, and her capture is certain; so you persevere for half a mile or so, and then she is up and away, leaving you to find your way back to the nest if you can. Among the ancients, opinion was at variance respecting the wholesomeness and digestibility of goose flesh, but concerning the excellence of the duck all parties were agreed; indeed, they not only assigned to duck-meat the palm for exquisite flavour and delicacy, they even attributed to it medicinal powers of the highest order. Not only the Roman medical writers of the time make mention of it, but likewise the philosophers of the period. Plutarch assures us that Cato preserved his whole household in health, in a season when plague and disease were rife, through dieting them on roast duck.

STEWED DUCK AND PEAS (Cold Meat Cookery).

935. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast duck, 2 oz. of butter, 3 or 4 slices of lean ham or bacon, 1 tablespoonful of flour, 2 pints of thin gravy, 1, or a small bunch of green onions, 3 sprigs of parsley, 3 cloves, 1 pint of young green peas, cayenne and salt to taste, 1 teaspoonful of pounded sugar.

Mode.—Put the butter into a stewpan; cut up the duck into joints, lay them in with the slices of lean ham or bacon; make it brown, then dredge in a tablespoonful of flour, and stir this well in before adding the gravy. Put in the onion, parsley, cloves, and gravy, and when it has simmered for 1/4 hour, add a pint of young green peas, and stew gently for about 1/2 hour. Season with cayenne, salt, and sugar; take out the duck, place it round the dish, and the peas in the middle.

Time.—3/4 hour.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold duck, 1s.

Seasonable from June to August.

DUCKS HATCHING.—Concerning incubation by ducks, a practised writer says, "The duck requires a secret and safe place, rather than any attendance, and will, at nature's call, cover her eggs and seek her food. On hatching, there is not often a necessity for taking away any of the brood; and, having hatched, let the mother retain her young ones upon the nest her own time. On her moving with her brood, let a coop be prepared upon the short grass, if the weather be fine, and under shelter, if otherwise."

COOPING AND FEEDING DUCKLINGS.—Brood ducks should be cooped at some distance from any other. A wide and flat dish of water, to be often renewed, should stand just outside the coop, and barley, or any other meal, be the first food of the ducklings. It will be needful, if it be wet weather, to clip their tails, lest these draggle, and so weaken the bird. The period of the duck's confinement to the coop will depend on the weather, and on the strength of the ducklings. A fortnight is usually the extent of time necessary, and they may even be sometimes permitted to enjoy the luxury of a swim at the end of a week. They should not, however, be allowed to stay too long in the water at first; for they will then become ill, their feathers get rough, and looseness of the bowels ensue. In the latter case, let them be closely cooped for a few days, and bean-meal or oatmeal be mixed with their ordinary food.



THE AYLESBURY DUCK.—The white Aylesbury duck is, and deservedly, a universal favourite. Its snowy plumage and comfortable comportment make it a credit to the poultry-yard, while its broad and deep breast, and its ample back, convey the assurance that your satisfaction will not cease at its death. In parts of Buckinghamshire, this member of the duck family is bred on an extensive scale; not on plains and commons, however, as might be naturally imagined, but in the abodes of the cottagers. Round the walls of the living-rooms, and of the bedroom even, are fixed rows of wooden boxes, lined with hay; and it is the business of the wife and children to nurse and comfort the feathered lodgers, to feed the little ducklings, and to take the old ones out for an airing. Sometimes the "stock" ducks are the cottager's own property, but it more frequently happens that they are intrusted to his care by a wholesale breeder, who pays him so much per score for all ducklings properly raised. To be perfect, the Aylesbury duck should be plump, pure white, with yellow feet, and a flesh-coloured beak.

STEWED DUCK AND PEAS (Cold Meat Cookery).

936. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast duck, 1/2 pint of good gravy, cayenne and salt to taste, 1/2 teaspoonful of minced lemon-peel, 1 teaspoonful of pounded sugar, 2 oz, of butter rolled in flour, 1-1/2 pint of green peas.

Mode.—Cut up the duck into joints, lay it in the gravy, and add a seasoning of cayenne, salt, and minced lemon-peel; let tins gradually warm through, but not boil. Throw the peas into boiling water slightly salted, and boil them rapidly until tender. Drain them, stir in the pounded sugar, and the butter rolled in flour; shake them over the fire for two or three minutes, and serve in the centre of the dish, with the duck laid round.

Time.—15 minutes to boil the peas, when they are full grown.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold duck, 10d.

Seasonable from June to August.

FATTENING DUCKS.—Many duck-keepers give their birds nothing in the shape of food, letting them wander about and pick up a living for themselves; and they will seem to get fat even upon this precarious feeding. Unless, however, ducks are supplied with, besides chance food, a liberal feed of solid corn, or grain, morning and evening, their flesh will become flabby and insipid. The simple way to fatten ducks is to let them have as much, substantial food as they will eat, bruised oats and pea-meal being the standard fattening food for them. No cramming is required, as with the turkey and some other poultry: they will cram themselves to the very verge of suffocation. At the same time, plenty of exercise and clean water should be at their service.

AMERICAN MODE OF CAPTURING DUCKS.—On the American rivers, the modes of capture are various. Sometimes half a dozen artificial birds are fastened to a little raft, and which is so weighted that the sham birds squat naturally on the water. This is quite sufficient to attract the notice of a passing flock, who descend to cultivate the acquaintance of the isolated few when the concealed hunter, with his fowling-piece, scatters a deadly leaden shower amongst them. In the winter, when the water is covered with rubble ice, the fowler of the Delaware paints his canoe entirely white, lies flat in the bottom of it, and floats with the broken ice; from which the aquatic inhabitants fail to distinguish it. So floats the canoe till he within it understands, by the quacking, and fluttering, and whirring of wings, that he is in the midst of a flock, when he is up in a moment with the murderous piece, and dying quacks and lamentations rend the still air.



Bow-BILL DUCKS, &c.—Every one knows how awkward are the Anatidae, waddling along on their unelastic webbed toes, and their short legs, which, being placed considerably backward, make the fore part of the body preponderate. Some, however, are formed more adapted to terrestrial habits than others, and notably amongst these may be named Dendronessa sponsa, the summer duck of America. This beautiful bird rears her young in the holes of trees, generally overhanging the water. When strong enough, the young scramble to the mouth of the hole, launch into the air with their little wings and feet spread out, and drop into their favourite element. Whenever their birthplace is at some distance from the water, the mother carries them to it, one by one, in her bill, holding them so as not to injure their yet tender frame. On several occasions, however, when the hole was 30, 40, or more yards from a piece of water, Audubon observed that the mother suffered the young to fall on the grass and dried leaves beneath the tree, and afterwards led them directly to the nearest edge of the next pool or creek. There are some curious varieties of the domestic duck, which only appear interesting from their singularity, for there does not seem to be anything of use or value in the unusual characteristics which distinguish them; thus, the bow-bill duck, as shown in the engraving, called by some writers the hook-bill, is remarkable for the peculiarly strange distortion of its beak, and the tuft on the top of its head. The penguin duck, again, waddles in an upright position, like the penguin, on account of the unnatural situation of its legs. These odd peculiarities add nothing of value to the various breeds, and may be set down as only the result of accidental malformation, transmitted from generation to generation.

STEWED DUCK AND TURNIPS (Cold Meat Cookery).

937. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast duck, 1/2 pint of good gravy, 4 shalots, a few slices of carrot, a small bunch of savoury herbs, 1 blade of pounded mace, 1 lb. of turnips, weighed after being peeled, 2 oz. of butter, pepper and salt to taste.

Mode.—Cut up the duck into joints, fry the shalots, carrots, and herbs, and put them, with the duck, into the gravy; add the pounded mace, and stew gently for 20 minutes or 1/2 hour. Cut about 1 lb. of turnips, weighed after being peeled, into 1/2-inch squares, put the butter into a stewpan, and stew them till quite tender, which will be in about 1/2 hour, or rather more; season with pepper and salt, and serve in the centre of the dish, with the duck, &c. laid round.

Time.—Rather more than 1/2 hour to stew the turnips.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold duck, 1s.

Seasonable from November to February.

THE WILD DUCK.—In many parts of England the wild duck is to be found, especially in those desolate fenny parts where water abounds. In Lincolnshire they are plentiful, and are annually taken in the decoys, which consist of ponds situate in the marshes, and surrounded with wood or reeds to prevent the birds which frequent them from, being disturbed. In these the birds sleep during the day; and as soon as evening sets in, the decoy rises, and the wild fowl feed during the night. Now is the time for the decoy ducks to entrap the others. From the ponds diverge, in different directions, certain canals, at the end of which funnel nets are placed; along these the decoy ducks, trained for the purpose, lead the others in search of food. After they have got a certain length, a decoy-man appears, and drives them further on, until they are finally taken in the nets. It is from these decoys, in Lincolnshire, that the London market is mostly supplied. The Chinese have a singular mode of catching these ducks. A person wades in the water up to the chin, and, having his head covered with an empty calabash, approaches the place where the ducks are. As the birds have no suspicion of the nature of the object which is concealed under the calabash, they suffer its approach, and allow it to move at will among their flock. The man, accordingly, walks about in the midst of his game, and, whenever he pleases, pulls them by the legs under the water, and fixes them to his belt, until he has secured as many as he requires, and then moves off as he went amongst them, without exciting the slightest suspicion of the trick he has been playing them. This singular mode of duck-hunting is also practised on the Ganges, the earthen vessels of the Hindoos being used instead of calabashes. These vessels, being those in which the inhabitants boil their rice, are considered, after once being used, as defiled, and are accordingly thrown into the river. The duck-takers, finding them suitable for their purpose, put them on their heads; and as the ducks, from seeing them constantly floating down the stream, are familiar with their appearance, they regard them as objects from which no danger is to be expected.



DUCK-SNARES IN THE LINCOLNSHIRE FENS.—The following interesting account of how duck-snaring used to be managed in the Lincolnshire fens, was published some years ago, in a work entitled the "Feathered Tribes."—"In the lakes to which they resorted, their favourite haunts were observed, and in the most sequestered part of a haunt, a pipe or ditch was cut across the entrance, decreasing gradually in width from the entrance to the further end, which was not more than two feet wide. The ditch was of a circular form, but did not bend much for the first ten yards. The banks of the lake on each side of the ditch were kept clear of weeds and close herbage, in order that the ducks might get on them to sit and dress themselves. Along the ditch, poles were driven into the ground close to the edge on each side, and the tops were bent over across the ditch and tied together. The poles then bent forward at the entrance to the ditch, and formed an arch, the top of which was tea feet distant from the surface of the water; the arch was made to decrease in height as the ditch decreased in width, so that the remote end was not more than eighteen inches in height. The poles were placed about six feet from each other, and connected by poles laid lengthwise across the arch, and tied together. Over the whole was thrown a net, which was made fast to a reed fence at the entrance and nine or ten yards up the ditch, and afterwards strongly pegged to the ground. At the end of the ditch furthest from the entrance, was fixed what was called a tunnel-net, of about four yards in length, of a round form, and kept open by a number of hoops about eighteen inches in diameter, placed at a small distance from each other to keep it distended. Supposing the circular bend of the ditch to be to the right, when one stands with his back to the lake, then on the left-hand side, a number of reed fences were constructed, called shootings, for the purpose of screening the decoy-man from observation, and, in such a manner, that the fowl in the decoy would not be alarmed while he was driving those that were in the pipe. These shootings, which were ten in number, were about four yards in length and about six feet high. From the end of the last shooting a person could not see the lake, owing to the bend of the ditch; and there was then no further occasion for shelter. Were it not for these shootings, the fowl that remained about the mouth of the ditch would have been alarmed, if the person driving the fowl already under the net should have been exposed, and would have become so shy as entirely to forsake the place."

THE DECOY MAN, DOG, AND DUCKS.—"The first thing the decoy-man did, on approaching the ditch, was to take a piece of lighted peat or turf, and to hold it near his mouth, to prevent the birds from smelling him. He was attended by a dog trained to render him assistance. He walked very silently about halfway up the shootings, where a small piece of wood was thrust through the reed fence, which made an aperture just large enough to enable him to see if there were any fowl within; if not, he walked to see if any were about the entrance to the ditch. If there were, he stopped, made a motion to his dog, and gave him a piece of cheese to eat, when the dog went directly to a hole through the reed fence, and the birds immediately flew off the back into the water. The dog returned along the bank between the reed fences, and came out to his master at another hole. The man then gave the dog something more to encourage him, and the dog repeated his rounds, till the birds were attracted by his motions, and followed him into the mouth of the ditch—an operation which was called 'working them.' The man now retreated further back, working the dog at different holes, until the ducks were sufficiently under the net. He then commanded his dog to lie down under the fence, and going himself forward to the end of the ditch next the lake, he took off his hat, and gave it a wave between the shootings. All the birds that were under the net could then see him, but none that were in the lake could. The former flew forward, and the man then ran to the next shooting, and waved his hat, and so on, driving them along until they came into the tunnel-net, into which they crept. When they were all in, the man gave the net a twist, so as to prevent them getting back. He then took the net off from the end of the ditch, and taking out, one by one, the ducks that were in it, dislocated their necks."

BOILED FOWLS OR CHICKENS.



938. INGREDIENTS.—A pair of fowls; water.

Choosing and Trussing.—In choosing fowls for boiling, it should be borne in mind that those that are not black-legged are generally much whiter when dressed. Pick, draw, singe, wash, and truss them in the following manner, without the livers in the wings; and, in drawing, be careful not to break the gall-bladder:—Cut off the neck, leaving sufficient skin to skewer back. Cut the feet off to the first joint, tuck the stumps into a slit made on each side of the belly, twist the wings over the back of the fowl, and secure the top of the leg and the bottom of the wing together by running a skewer through them and the body. The other side must be done in the same manner. Should the fowl be very large and old, draw the sinews of the legs before tucking them in. Make a slit in the apron of the fowl, large enough to admit the parson's nose, and tie a string on the tops of the legs to keep them in their proper place.

Mode.—When, they are firmly trussed, put them into a stewpan with plenty of hot water; bring it to boil, and carefully remove all the scum as it rises. Simmer very gently until the fowl is tender, and bear in mind that the slower it boils, the plumper and whiter will the fowl be. Many cooks wrap them in a floured cloth to preserve the colour, and to prevent the scum from clinging to them; in this case, a few slices of lemon should be placed on the breasts; over these a sheet of buttered paper, and then the cloth; cooking them in this manner renders the flesh very white. Boiled ham, bacon, boiled tongue, or pickled pork, are the usual accompaniments to boiled fowls, and they may be served with Bechamel, white sauce, parsley and butter, oyster, lemon, liver, celery, or mushroom sauce. A little should be poured over the fowls, after the skewers are removed, and the remainder sent in a tureen to table.

Time.—Large fowl, 1 hour; moderate-sized one, 3/4 hour; chicken, from 20 minutes to 1/2 hour.

Average cost, in full season, 5s. the pair.

Sufficient for 7 or 8 persons.

Seasonable all the year, but scarce in early spring.



THE GAME FOWL.—Respecting the period at which this well-known member of the Gallus family became domesticated, history is silent. There is little doubt, however, that, like the dog, it has been attached to mankind ever since mankind were attached to civilization. Although the social position of this bird is, at the present time, highly respectable, it is nothing to what it was when Rome was mistress of the world. Writing at that period, Pliny says, respecting the domestic cock, "The gait of the cock is proud and commanding; he walks with head erect and elevated crest; alone, of all birds, he habitually looks up to the sky, raising, at the same time, his curved and scythe-formed tail, and inspiring terror in the lion himself, that most intrepid of animals.——They regulate the conduct of our magistrates, and open or close to them their own houses. They prescribe rest or movement to the Roman fasces: they command or prohibit battles. In a word, they lord it over the masters of the world." As well among the ancient Greeks as the Romans, was the cock regarded with respect, and even awe. The former people practised divinations by means of this bird. Supposing there to be a doubt in the camp as to the fittest day to fight a battle, the letter of every day in the week would be placed face downwards, and a grain of corn placed on each; then the sacred cock would be let loose, and, according to the letters he pecked his corn from, so would the battle-time be regulated. On one momentous occasion, however, a person inimical to priestly interest officiously examined the grain, and found that those lying on the letters not wanted were made of wax, and the birds, preferring the true grain, left these untouched. It is needless to add that, after this, divination through the medium of cocks and grain fell out of fashion. Whether or no the learned fowl above alluded to were of the "game" breed, is unknown; but that the birds were bred for the inhuman sport of fighting many hundred years before the Christian era, there can be no doubt. Themistocles, the Athenian king, who flourished more than two thousand years ago, took advantage of the sight of a pitched battle between two cocks to harangue his soldiers on courage. "Observe," said he, "with what intrepid valour they fight, inspired by no other motive than lore of victory; whereas you have to contend for your religion and your liberty, for your wives and children, and for the tombs of your ancestors." And to this day his courage has not degenerated. He still preserves his bold and elegant gait, his sparkling eye, while his wedge-shaped beak and cruel spurs are ever ready to support his defiant crow. It is no wonder that the breed is not plentiful—first, on account of the few eggs laid by the hen; and, secondly, from the incurable pugnacity of the chicks. Half fledged broods may be found blind as bats from fighting, and only waiting for the least glimmer of sight to be at it again. Without doubt, the flesh of game fowls is every way superior to that of every chicken of the family.

BROILED FOWL AND MUSHROOM SAUCE.

939. INGREDIENTS.—A large fowl, seasoning, to taste, of pepper and salt, 2 handfuls of button mushrooms, 1 slice of lean ham, 3/4 pint of thickened gravy, 1 teaspoonful of lemon-juice, 1/2 teaspoonful of pounded sugar.

Mode.—Cut the fowl into quarters, roast it until three-parts done, and keep it well basted whilst at the fire. Take the fowl up, broil it for a few minutes over a clear fire, and season it with pepper and salt. Have ready some mushroom sauce made in the following manner. Put the mushrooms into a stewpan with a small piece of butter, the ham, a seasoning of pepper and salt, and the gravy; simmer these gently for 1/2 hour, add the lemon-juice and sugar, dish the fowl, and pour the sauce round them.

Time.—To roast the fowl, 35 minutes; to broil it, 10 to 15 minutes.

Average cost, in full season, 2s. 6d.

Sufficient for 4 or 5 persons.

Seasonable.—In full season from May to January.



THE BANTAM.—No one will dispute that for beauty, animation, plumage, and courage the Bantam is entitled to rank next to the game fowl. As its name undoubtedly implies, the bird is of Asiatic origin. The choicest sorts are the buff-coloured, and those that are entirely black. A year-old Bantam cock of pure breed will not weigh more than sixteen ounces. Despite its small size, however, it is marvellously bold, especially in defence of its progeny. A friend of the writer's, residing at Kensington, possessed a pair of thorough-bred Bantams, that were allowed the range of a yard where a fierce bull-terrier was kennelled. The hen had chicks; and, when about three weeks old, one of them strayed into the dog-kennel. The grim beast within took no notice of the tiny fledgling; but, when the anxious mother ventured in to fetch out the truant, with a growl the dog woke, and nearly snapped her asunder in his great jaws. The cock bird saw the tragic fate of its partner; but, nothing daunted, flew at the dog with a fierce cry, and pecked savagely at its face. The odds, however, were too great; and, when the terrier had sufficiently recovered from the astonishment caused by the sudden and unexpected attack, he seized the audacious Bantam, and shook him to death; and, in five minutes, the devoted couple were entombed in Pincher's capacious maw.

BOILED FOWL AND RICE.

940. INGREDIENTS.—1 fowl, mutton broth, 2 onions, 2 small blades of pounded mace, pepper and salt to taste, 1/4 pint of rice, parsley and butter.

Mode.—Truss the fowl as for boiling, and put it into a stewpan with sufficient clear well-skimmed mutton broth to cover it; add the onion, mace, and a seasoning of pepper and salt; stew very gently for about 1 hour, should the fowl be large, and about 1/2 hour before it is ready put in the rice, which should be well washed and soaked. When the latter is tender, strain it from the liquor, and put it on a sieve reversed to dry before the fire, and, in the mean time, keep the fowl hot. Dish it, put the rice round as a border, pour a little parsley and butter over the fowl, and the remainder send to table in a tureen.

Time.—A large fowl, 1 hour.

Average cost, in full season, 2s. 6d.

Sufficient for 3 or 4 persons.

Seasonable all the year, but scarce in early spring.



THE DORKING.—This bird takes its name from that of a town in Surrey, where the breed is to be found in greater numbers, and certainly in greater perfection, than elsewhere. It is generally believed that this particular branch of poultry was found in the town above mentioned as long ago as the Roman era. The Dorking's chief characteristic is that he has five claws on each foot; the extra claw, however, is never of sufficient length to encumber the foot, or to cause it to "drag" its nest, or scratch out the eggs. The colour of the true Dorking is pure white; long in the body, short in the legs, and a prolific layer. Thirty years ago, there was much controversy respecting the origin of the Dorking. The men of Sussex declared that the bird belonged to them, and brought birds indigenous to their weald, and possessing all the Dorking fine points and peculiarities, in proof of the declaration. Others inclined to the belief that the Poland bird was the father of the Dorking, and not without at least a show of reason, as the former bird much resembles the latter in shape; and, despite its sombre hue, it is well known that the Poland cock will occasionally beget thorough white stock from white English hens. The commotion has, however, long ago subsided, and Dorking still retains its fair reputation for fowl.

CURRIED FOWL.

941. INGREDIENTS.—1 fowl, 2 oz. of butter, 3 onions sliced, 1 pint of white veal gravy, 1 tablespoonful of curry-powder, 1 tablespoonful of flour, 1 apple, 4 tablespoonfuls of cream, 1 tablespoonful of lemon-juice.

Mode.—Put the butter into a stewpan, with the onions sliced, the fowl cut into small joints, and the apple peeled, cored, and minced. Fry of a pale brown, add the stock, and stew gently for 20 minutes; rub down the curry-powder and flour with a little of the gravy, quite smoothly, and stir this to the other ingredients; simmer for rather more than 1/2 hour, and just before serving, add the above proportion of hot cream and lemon-juice. Serve with boiled rice, which may either be heaped lightly on a dish by itself, or put round the curry as a border.

Time.—50 minutes.

Average cost, 3s. 3d.

Sufficient for 3 or 4 persons.

Seasonable in the winter.

Note.—This curry may be made of cold chicken, but undressed meat will be found far superior.

THE POLAND.—This bird, a native of Holland, is a great favourite with fowl-keepers, especially those who have on eye to profit rather than to amusement. Those varieties known as the "silver spangled" and the "gold spangled" are handsome enough to please the most fastidious; but the common black breed, with the bushy crown of white feathers, is but a plain bird. The chief value of the common Poland lies in the great number of eggs they produce; indeed, in many parts, they are as well known as "everlasting layers" as by their proper name. However, the experienced breeder would take good care to send the eggs of his everlasting layers to market, and not use them for home consumption, as, although they may be as large as those laid by other hens, the amount of nutriment contained in them is not nearly so great. Mr. Mowbray once kept an account of the number of eggs produced by this prolific bird, with the following result:—From the 25th of October to the 25th of the following September five hens laid 503 eggs; the average weight of each egg was one ounce five drachms, and the total weight of the whole, exclusive of the shells, 50-1/4 pounds. Taking the weight of the birds at the fair average of five pounds each, we thus see them producing within a year double their weight of egg alone; and, supposing every egg to contain a chick, and allowing the chick to, grow, in less than eighteen months from the laying of the first egg, two thousand five hundred pounds of chicken-meat would be the result. The Poland is easily fattened, and its flesh is generally considered juicier and of richer flavour than most others.



CURRIED FOWL OR CHICKEN (Cold Meat Cookery).

942. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast fowls, 2 large onions, 1 apple, 2 oz. of butter, 1 dessertspoonful of curry-powder, 1 teaspoonful of flour, 1/2 pint of gravy, 1 tablespoonful of lemon-juice.

Mode.—Slice the onions, peel, core, and chop the apple, and cut the fowl into neat joints; fry these in the butter of a nice brown; then add the curry-powder, flour, and gravy, and stew for about 20 minutes. Put in the lemon-juice, and serve with boiled rice, either placed in a ridge round the dish or separately. Two or three shallots or a little garlic may be added, if approved.

Time.—Altogether 1/2 hour. Av. cost, exclusive of the cold fowl, 6d.

Seasonable in the winter.



THE COCHIN-CHINA.—About fifteen years ago, the arrival of this distinguished Asiatic created in England as great a sensation as might be expected from the landing of an invading host. The first pair that ever made their appearance here were natives of Shanghai, and were presented to the queen, who exhibited them at the Dublin poultry-show of 1818. Then began the "Cochin" furor. As soon as it was discovered, despite the most strenuous endeavours to keep the tremendous secret, that a certain dealer was possessed of a pair of these birds, straightway the avenues to that dealer's shop were blocked by broughams, and chariots, and hack cabs, until the shy poulterer had been tempted by a sufficiently high sum to part with his treasure. Bank-notes were exchanged for Cochin chicks, and Cochin eggs were in as great demand as though they had been laid by the fabled golden goose. The reign of the Cochin China was, however, of inconsiderable duration. The bird that, in 1847, would fetch thirty guineas, is now counted but ordinary chicken-meat, and its price is regulated according to its weight when ready for the spit. As for the precious buff eggs, against which, one time of day, guineas were weighed,—send for sixpenn'orth at the cheesemonger's, and you will get at least five; which is just as it should be. For elegance of shape or quality of flesh, the Cochin cannot for a moment stand comparison with our handsome dunghill; neither can the indescribable mixture of growling and braying, peculiar to the former, vie with the musical trumpeting of our own morning herald: yet our poultry-breeders have been immense gainers by the introduction of the ungainly celestial, inasmuch as new blood has been infused into the English chicken family. Of this incalculable advantage we may be sure; while, as to the Cochin's defects, they are certain to be lost in the process of "cross and cross" breeding.

BOILED FOWLS A LA BECHAMEL.

943. INGREDIENTS.—A pair of fowls, 1 pint of Bechamel, No, 367, a few bunches of boiled brocoli or cauliflower.

Mode.—Truss and boil the fowls by recipe No. 938; make a pint of Bechamel sauce by recipe No. 367; pour some of this over the fowls, and the remainder send to table in a tureen. Garnish the dish with bunches of boiled cauliflowers or brocoli, and serve very hot. The sauce should be made sufficiently thick to adhere to the fowls; that for the tureen should be thinned by adding a spoonful or two of stock.

Time.—From 1/2 to 1 hour, according to size.

Average cost, in full season, 5s. a pair.

Sufficient for 6 or 7 persons.

Seasonable all the year, but scarce in early spring.

SPACE FOR FOWLS.—We are no advocates for converting the domestic fowl into a cage-bird. We have known amateur fowl-keepers—worthy souls, who would butter the very barley they gave their pets, if they thought they would the more enjoy it—coop up a male bird and three or four hens in an ordinary egg-chest placed on its side, and with the front closely barred with iron hooping! This system will not do. Every animal, from man himself to the guinea-pig, must have what is vulgarly, but truly, known as "elbow-room;" and it must be self-evident how emphatically this rule applies to winged animals. It may be urged, in the case of domestic fowls, that from constant disuse, and from clipping and plucking, and other sorts of maltreatment, their wings can hardly be regarded as instruments of flight; we maintain, however, that you may pluck a fowl's wing-joints as bare as a pumpkin, but you will not erase from his memory that he is a fowl, and that his proper sphere is the open air. If he likewise reflects that he is an ill-used fowl—a prison-bird—he will then come to the conclusion, that there is not the least use, under such circumstances, for his existence; and you must admit that the decision is only logical and natural.

BOILED FOWL, with Oysters.

(Excellent.)

944. INGREDIENTS.—1 young fowl, 3 dozen oysters, the yolks of 2 eggs, 1/4 pint of cream.

Mode.—Truss a young fowl as for boiling; fill the inside with oysters which have been bearded and washed in their own liquor; secure the ends of the fowl, put it into a jar, and plunge the jar into a saucepan of boiling water. Keep it boiling for 1-1/2 hour, or rather longer; then take the gravy that has flowed from the oysters and fowl, of which there will be a good quantity; stir in the cream and yolks of eggs, add a few oysters scalded in their liquor; let the sauce get quite hot, but do not allow it to boil; pour some of it over the fowl, and the remainder send to table in a tureen. A blade of pounded mace added to the sauce, with the cream and eggs, will be found an improvement.

Time.—1-1/2 hour. Average cost, 4s. 6d.

Sufficient for 3 or 4 persons.

Seasonable from September to April.

THE FOWL-HOUSE.—In building a fowl-house, take care that it be, if possible, built against a wall or fence that faces the south, and thus insure its inmates against many cold winds, driving rains, and sleets they will otherwise suffer. Let the floor of the house slope half an inch to the foot from back to front, so as to insure drainage; let it also be close, hard, and perfectly smooth; so that it may be cleanly swept out. A capital plan is to mix a few bushels of chalk and dry earth, spread it over the floor, and pay a paviour's labourer a trifle to hammer it level with his rammer. The fowl-house should be seven feet high, and furnished with perches at least two feet apart. The perches must be level, and not one above the other, or unpleasant consequences may ensue to the undermost row. The perches should be ledged (not fixed—just dropped into sockets, that they may be easily taken out and cleaned) not lower than five feet from the ground, convenient slips of wood being driven into the wall, to render the ascent as easy as possible. The front of the fowl-house should be latticed, taking care that the interstices be not wide enough even to tempt a chick to crawl through. Nesting-boxes, containing soft hay, and fitted against the walls, so as to be easily reached by the perch-ladder, should be supplied. It will be as well to keep by you a few portable doors, so that you may hang one before the entrance to a nesting-box, when the hen goes in to sit. This will prevent other hens from intruding, a habit to which some are much addicted.

FRICASSEED FOWL OR CHICKEN (an Entree).

945. INGREDIENTS.—2 small fowls or 1 large one, 3 oz. of butter, a bunch of parsley and green onions, 1 clove, 2 blades of mace, 1 shalot, 1 bay-leaf, salt and white pepper to taste, 1/4 pint of cream, the yolks of 3 eggs.

Mode.—Choose a couple of fat plump chickens, and, after drawing, singeing, and washing them, skin, and carve them into joints; blanch these in boiling water for 2 or 3 minutes; take them out, and immerse them in cold water to render them white. Put the trimmings, with the necks and legs, into a stewpan; add the parsley, onions, clove, mace, shalot, bay-leaf, and a seasoning of pepper and salt; pour to these the water that the chickens were blanched in, and simmer gently for rather more than 1 hour. Have ready another stewpan; put in the joints of fowl, with the above proportion of butter; dredge them with flour, let them get hot, but do not brown them much; then moisten the fricassee with the gravy made from the trimmings, &c., and stew very gently for 1/2 hour. Lift the fowl into another stewpan, skim the sauce, reduce it quickly over the fire, by letting it boil fast, and strain it over them. Add the cream, and a seasoning of pounded mace and cayenne; let it boil up, and when ready to serve, stir to it the well-beaten yolks of 3 eggs: these should not be put in till the last moment, and the sauce should be made hot, but must not boil, or it will instantly curdle. A few button-mushrooms stewed with the fowl are by many persons considered an improvement.

Time.—1 hour to make the gravy, 1/2 hour to simmer the fowl.

Average cost, 5s. the pair.

Sufficient.—1 large fowl for one entree.

Seasonable at any time.

STOCKING THE FOWL-HOUSE.—Take care that the birds with which you stock your house are young. The surest indications of old age are fading of the comb and gills from brilliant red to a dingy brick-colour, general paleness of plumage, brittleness of the feathers, length and size of the claws, and the scales of the legs and feet assuming a ragged and corny appearance. Your cock and hens should be as near two years old as possible. Hens will lay at a year old, but the eggs are always insignificant in size, and the layers giddy and unsteady sitters. The hen-bird is in her prime for breeding at three years old, and will continue so, under favourable circumstances, for two years longer; after which she will decline. Crowing hens, and those that have large combs, are generally looked on with mistrust; but this is mere silliness and superstition—though it is possible that a spruce young cock would as much object to a spouse with such peculiar addictions, as a young fellow of our own species would to a damsel who whistled and who wore whiskers. Fowls with yellow legs should be avoided; they are generally of a tender constitution, loose-fleshed, and of indifferent flavour.

FRICASSEED FOWL (Cold Meat Cookery).

946. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast fowl, 1 strip of lemon-peel, 1 blade of pounded mace, 1 bunch of savoury herbs, 1 onion, popper and salt to taste, 1 pint of water, 1 teaspoonful of flour, 1/4 pint of cream, the yolks of 2 eggs.

Mode.—Carve the fowls into nice joints; make gravy of the trimmings and legs, by stewing them with the lemon-peel, mace, herbs, onion, seasoning, and water, until reduced to 1/2 pint; then strain, and put in the fowl. Warm it through, and thicken with a teaspoonful of flour; stir the yolks of the eggs into the cream; add these to the sauce, let it get thoroughly hot, but do not allow it to boil, or it will curdle.

Time.—1 hour to make the gravy, 1/4 hour to warm the fowl.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold chicken, 8d.

Seasonable at any time.

CHARACTERISTICS OF HEALTH AND POWER.—The chief characteristics of health in a fowl are brightness and dryness of eye and nostrils, the comb and wattles firm and ruddy, the feathers elastic and glossy. The most useful cock is generally the greatest tyrant, who struts among his hens despotically, with his head erect and his eyes ever watchful. There is likely to be handsomer and stronger chicks in a house where a bold, active—even savage—bird reigns, than where the lord of the hen-house is a weak, meek creature, who bears the abuse and peckings of his wives without a remonstrance. I much prefer dark-coloured cock-birds to those of light plumage. A cock, to be handsome, should be of middling size; his bill should be short, comb bright-red, wattles large, breast broad, and wings strong. His head should be rather small than otherwise, his legs short and sturdy, and his spurs well-formed; his feathers should be short and close, and the more frequently and heartily he crows, the better father he is likely to become. The common error of choosing hens above the ordinary stature of their respective varieties should be avoided, as the best breeding-hens are those of medium size.

FRIED FOWLS (Cold Meat Cookery).

I.

947. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast fowls, vinegar, salt and cayenne to taste, 3 or 4 minced shalots. For the batter,—1/2 lb. of flour, 1/2 pint of hot water, 2 oz. of butter, the whites of 2 eggs.

Mode.—Cut the fowl into nice joints; steep them for an hour in a little vinegar, with salt, cayenne, and minced shalots. Make the batter by mixing the flour and water smoothly together; melt in it the butter, and add the whites of egg beaten to a froth; take out the pieces of fowl, dip them in the batter, and fry, in boiling lard, a nice brown. Pile them high in the dish, and garnish with fried parsley or rolled bacon. When approved, a sauce or gravy may be served with them.

Time.—10 minutes to fry the fowl.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold fowl, 8d.

Seasonable at any time.

CHANTICLEER AND HIS COMPANIONS.—On bringing the male and female birds together for the first time, it will be necessary to watch the former closely, as it is a very common occurrence with him to conceive a sudden and violent dislike for one or more of his wives, and not allow the obnoxious ones to approach within some distance of the others; indeed, I know many cases where the capricious tyrant has set upon the innocent cause of his resentment and killed her outright. In all such cases, the hen objected to should be removed and replaced by another. If the cock should, by any accident, get killed, considerable delicacy is required in introducing a new one. The hens may mope, and refuse to associate with their new husband, clustering in corners, and making odious comparisons between him and the departed; or the cock may have his own peculiar notions as to what a wife should be, and be by no means satisfied with those you have provided him. The plan is, to keep him by himself nearly the whole day, supplying him plentifully with exhilarating food, then to turn him loose among the hens, and to continue this practice, allowing him more of the society of his wives each day, until you suffer him to abide with them altogether.

II.

948. INGREDIENTS.—The remains of cold roast fowl, vinegar, salt and cayenne to taste, 4 minced shalots, yolk of egg; to every teacupful of bread crumbs allow 1 blade of pounded mace, 5 teaspoonful of minced lemon-peel, 1 saltspoonful of salt, a few grains of cayenne.

Mode.—Steep the pieces of fowl as in the preceding recipe, then dip them into the yolk of an egg or clarified butter; sprinkle over bread crumbs with which have been mixed salt, mace, cayenne, and lemon-peel in the above proportion. Fry a light brown, and serve with or without gravy, as may be preferred.

Time.—10 minutes to fry the fowl.

Average cost, exclusive of the cold fowl, 6d.

Seasonable at any time.

VARIOUS MODES OF FATTENING FOWLS.—It would, I think, be a difficult matter to find, among the entire fraternity of fowl-keepers, a dozen whose mode of fattening "stock" is the same. Some say that the grand f secret is to give them abundance of saccharine food; others say nothing beats heavy corn steeped in milk; while another breeder, celebrated in his day, and the recipient of a gold medal from a learned society, says, "The best method is as follows:-The chickens are to be taken from the hen the night after they are hatched, and fed with eggs hard-boiled, chopped, and mixed with crumbs of bread, as larks and other small birds are fed, for the first fortnight; after which give them oatmeal and treacle mixed so as to crumble, of which the chickens are very fond, and thrive so fast that, at the end of two months, they will be as large as full-grown fowls." Others there are who insist that nothing beats oleaginous diet, and cram their birds with ground oats and suet. But, whatever the course of diet favoured, on one point they seem agreed; and that is, that, while fattening, the fowls should be kept in the dark. Supposing the reader to be a dealer—a breeder of gross chicken meat for the market (against which supposition the chances are 10,000 to 1), and beset with as few scruples as generally trouble the huckster, the advice is valuable. "Laugh and grow fat" is a good maxim enough; but "Sleep and grow fat" is, as is well known to folks of porcine attributes, a better. The poor birds, immured in their dark dungeons, ignorant that there is life and sunshine abroad, tuck their heads under their wings and make a long night of it; while their digestive organs, having no harder work than to pile up fat, have an easy time enough. But, unless we are mistaken, he who breeds poultry for his own eating, bargains for a more substantial reward than the questionable pleasure of burying his carving-knife in chicken grease. Tender, delicate, and nutritious flesh is the great aim; and these qualities, I can affirm without fear of contradiction, were never attained by a dungeon-fatted chicken: perpetual gloom and darkness is as incompatible with chicken life as it is with human. If you wish to be convinced of the absurdity of endeavouring to thwart nature's laws, plant a tuft of grass, or a cabbage-plant, in the darkest corner of your coal-cellar. The plant or the tuft may increase in length and breadth, but its colour will be as wan and pale, almost, as would be your own face under the circumstances.