Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1891-03-20
FOWL FAIRY STORIES.

Chicken Raising and Health.
In its fowl reports of the fat stock
show in that city The Tribune, of Chi
cago, tells the following fairy stories:
Another plucky girl was a typewriter
in New York until her health broke
down and her nerves refused any longer
to bear the clatter of her machine. She
was not of the kind who despair, and so
promptly exchanged her Bennington"
for an observation-disclosures are usually peo-
pie who have incubators and want type
writer's instead ready waiting for the
people who, having typewriters, long
for incubators-hired a sandy patch of
a farm out on Long Island, and went to
work ut all the different branches of the
Chicken business" 1t is far better, if
Il can do so, to choose one of those
paths and keep to it., but she had little
capital and was obliged at first to earn
money in amy way that offered itself.
She bought eggs which she knew were
fresh from. less canny farmers in her
neiglborhood, secured them, stamped
them with the name of her farm and
sold them in New York at Christmas for
so cents Il; dozen, and all the year for
prices which well rewarded her She
bought scraggy young chickens at IS
cents and sold them. fiat and fair" for
Is. She raised Pckin ducks, which are
profitable creatures. She raised pug
puppies, too, keeping them and her
brooders Of chicklinys and ducklings all
in tha Sn,,n hifr ", 5, 40, ,rI,,,, +l,o
latter were protected by wire rims
from being devoured by the former.
AS time went Oh she gave her atten-
ton more especially to the ducks, send
ing green peas" ducklings to the insa-
Table New York restaurants. They
were the drollest little things during
their short lives, coming into the world
Oh a broad grin, and keeping it up
through infancy, as if laughing ut the
thought of how Queerly they once were
rolled up in their shells like so many
balls of tape. That farmer forgot her
nerves, and grew rosy and serene at her
work, which, though hard enough, she
found full of interest.
~lncubatOrs are almost essential to
chicken farmers nowadays. Even if one
is not going to do anything on a grand
scale, it is u much simpler way to start
ones machine at it's winter work than
to wait impatiently till willful ''biddies"
decide to sit, and then to induce them
to take the nests one has mado ready for
them, and then. too, too often to weep
over the precious eggs which they have
deserted.
Still, though better than hens, incuba-
tors are ''kittle cattle" The number of
dreadful things that may happen to
them is amazing. The thermometers in
most of them are marked across the de-
gree at which the temperature must be
kept, and the damage that will be done
by Il rise or fall depends on how far the
mercury wanders from that magical
mark. "Self regulators" only regulate
themselves when everything is made
easy for them. Unless the machinery is
in perfect order the ventilators will not
act, and then the eggs are chilled or
baked, as the case may We. That is bad
enough if they have leen lately put in.
but is more deeply depressing if they
have been Tested" that is, looked
through, and have been found to contain
living embryos, various compounds Of
spider and cuttlefish, waving hideous
arms as they dance about in the egg.
"A business man in town who took de-
light in caring for the chickens on his
country place went to his train one
morning, leaving 500 eggs in an incuba-
tor in his cellar. 1t was the day they
wero due to hatch, and most of the shelly
were ''starred." That technical term
means Clipped in Il star shape, and that
is a sign of a small beak having broken
through as the chick uncoils itself. All
day that business man had dreams Of
hundreds Of dear little puff balls which
he would see at night. But his cool took
q fancy to sweep the cellar that morn
ing. Her apron string 'cauyht on Il jig
ger she said, land it slipped off another
jigyer." In short, the thermostatic bar
was disconnected from the ventilatlng
valves, the thermometer rose to unknown
heights. and the puffballs never APP
peared.
"A poultry farmer whom the writer
knows i'll the most intimate way had.
once upon u time, a clumsy old incuba-
tor. There was a reel on it. which was
to be wound with a great deal of sewing
silk every alternate day. 1t is easy to
forget what is only to lie done every
other day, and one morning that farmer
found the reel all unwound, its leaden
weight lying on the floor and the ther-
mometer not quite 200 dogs. And the
cooked eggs in the machine were all
Houdan eggs, not only from pure bred
Houdans, but from the biggest crested.
the darkest, the most fashionable Hou-
dams Of all she had.
Points Of Interest.
Note from The Montana Farming and