herd. But, as a rule, the maternal affections seem to be much dependent upon the flow of milk; and the shepherd, seeing that the well-filled udder is his best friend, never ceases to tease the farmer into large grants of cake and corn for the sucklers. Care should have been previously taken to divest the region of the udder of all wool; for its presence in the stomach of the lamb is a certain cause of death. Having exercised even great care in this particular, I have lost many lambs. The symptoms are, violent working in the body, with frothing at the mouth.

The first aim of the shepherd is to ensure for every lamb, as soon as possible after birth, a good drink of warm milk: this once accomplished, he rapidly increases in strength and ability to bear cold weather.

In the case of shearling ewes, who usually have a scant supply of milk, cows' milk is resorted to. New milk is supplied to them by means of bottles fitted with a mouth-piece, through which the lambs suck; or there are other modes of administering the lacteal stream of life but the chemical constituents of cows' milk and ewes' milk, meeting in the stomachs of lambs, certainly do not agree well. Particularly they do not where the cow from which the milk is obtained has calved recently. Ewe-milk is poor in butter, but rich in curd; which is known to be the character of that of cows calved six months, and not again pregnant.

Should a ewe show indisposition to allow her lamb to suck, her udder should be examined. If it is hot and hard, exhibiting tumorization, fomentations, with the internal administration of Epsom salts, will be useful, followed by the vigorous thumps of the lamb, dispersing the tumour and promoting the flow of milk. phor and spirits of wine and Castile soap are a stronger remedy.

Cam

There is another troublesome piece of business for

the shepherd at this time-I mean the Mothering of Lambs. This has to be done when a ewe dies, leaving lambs; when the lambs die, leaving a good flow of milk behind them, for the benefit of the wee things that are left destitute; or when a fine ewe, with abundance of milk, has but a single lamb, while a poor or young ewe has twins; the shepherd seeing it best to break the poor ewe's couple, giving twins to her that has the best supply for them. If this is done when the lambs are wet, there is no trouble involved; but the effort to induce a ewe to recognize a lamb that has been dropped some days, is very trying to the patience. Various methods are adopted to cheat the mothers, the shepherd rubbing the body of the lamb to be received with the body of the dead lamb; or (if in the case supposed last) with the body of the live lamb. If this will not do, the dead lamb is skinned; and the stranger, invested in its tegument, deceitfully obtains, like another Esau, the parental blessing. Close confinement is usually necessary to render these arts effective.

Those lambs unsuccessful in this line of deception, or, may-be, supernumeraries, depend upon the kind attentions of the shepherd or the dairymaid.

Before I pass from this portion of the subject, I must remember to say that, if the shepherd's house is not near, he should have access to some outhouse or moveable shepherd's house, with a fire, before which, wrapped in flannel, he may put such lambs as require this attention, as many do, during those cold stormy nights when lambs usually arrive in greatest abundance.

I must also remark that, should a case of puerperal fever occur, the shepherd must avoid touching the ewe so affected. If he has done so, some other person must take his accoucheur-duties for a few days, as the malady may be communicated to numbers of the flock by the shepherd's hand. Same one else, too, must do all the skinning, &c., during the lambing time.

CASTRATION AND DOCKING.-Ten days to a month after birth, all lambs not reserved for tups are to be castrated. The parts have not at this age attained too much rigidity, nor is the lamb so fat as to render fever imminent from the operation.

Authority says "it is best done early in the morning, in a fresh breeze, and by no means should the lambs be over-driven and heated previously." The modus operandi is as follows: The captured lambs are one by one placed with their backs upon the right shoulder of a stout lad, who doubling the corresponding fore and hind legs together in either hand, holds them steady in that position for the shepherd, who simply forces up the testicle with his finger and thumb, slits the purse, seizes the testicle between his teeth, and draws it out till the spermatic cord is broken, and so on. There are other plans, but none so simple as these. When the parts get too rigid to allow of the operation being performed with safety, silk thread is tied very tightly round the testicle, and circulation being cut off, they drop off in process of time. This seems a less barbarous, but more troublesome mode than the former.

The opportunity is now taken to dock the tail, dividing against the third joint. The object of this operation is to keep the sheep clean behind, which cannot be done when they wear long tails.

The lambs, after castration and docking, should not be placed in high lank grass, or on stubble, where the parts can be irritated. Having surmounted these difficulties and risks, the shepherd may now begin to calculate his successes. Stephens says, "He should not be satisfied with his exertions unless he has preserved one-half the number of ewes with twin lambs; nor should he congratulate himself if he has lost a single ewe in lambing." "In regard," says the same writer, "to the yield of lambs of the Cheviot breed, it is considered a favourable result to rear a lamb to each ewe; with Southdowns a little more; with black-faced ewes 18 lambs out of the score of ewes is perhaps as favourable. Cheviots yield a few pairs, Southdowns more, black-faced ewes very few, while half the number of Leicester ewes should have twin lambs."

AFTER-MANAGEMENT.-So soon as the lambs are fairly a-foot, their dams are turned with them into the most forward piece of seeds, or to rape, rye, winter oats, or water meadow; the great point being to have abundance of succulent green food for the ewes as soon as they lamb. The ewes bite very closely, and eat constantly while lambs are with them, so that they shortly trim-off the grass or seed in a season unfavourable to vegetation. This fact renders the farmer much uneasi. ness; for when the pasture looks brown, he knows that he must either remove the flock, or, by keeping it where it is, impoverish the lambs, and so bite into the heart of the grass or seed, that the summer will pass before it recovers from the treatment.

The addition of a water-meadow to a farm is most valuable at this season, for these will always have a supply of food when other pastures are bare. Matters should so be arranged that there should be a succession of fields for the ewes and lambs, passing them on from one to another, and so resting each piece alternately, which will be found a more effectual method than that of stocking all lightly, but continuously. In removing lambs from a short to a full bite, caution is needed. It should be accomplished, old hands say in dry weather in the afternoon: else we have a flush of that quality of milk which produces green-skit in lambs. The premonitory symptoms of this malady are, general dulness, watery eyes, and stiff joints; half-an ounce Epsom salts with half a drachm of ginger is the best aperient remedy, to which may be added a table-spoonful of cordial, consisting of equal parts of brandy and

sweet spirits of nitre. When the action of the stomach shall have been stopped by the curding or coagulation of milk, an alkali should be employed to dissolve the coagulum. The best to be so used is magnesia. Painful heaving of the body indicates the cause of disease. With respect to costiveness, half ounce doses of Epsom salts repeated every six hours until relief is afforded, and removal to a more succulent pasture, are the proper remedies. Epsom salts will, too, generally relieve fever in lambs at its commencement. This malady is indicated by quick breathing.

Medicine can only be resorted to in individual cases. Where a malady prevails throughout a flock, it is best generally to meet it by judicious dieting.

The ewes must be kept in a thriving condition, that is, progressing all summer, and on the 20th of July or thereabouts, the lambs should be removed to a good clover eddish, at a sufficient distance from their mothers to prevent the one lot hearing the bleating of the other. I say that the lambs should be removed; but it will be better to say that the ewes should be removed, leaving the lambs where they were, for a day or two before the change is made. So that if they are to go upon clover eddish, it would be well for ewes and lambs to go there together for a day or two before the separation takes place. Experience will show that too much attention cannot be paid to such apparently trifling matters. It is in assiduous attention to such trifling circumstances that a farmer's profit consists.

I must not forget to state that when the ewes are shorn, the lambs should be dipped in a composition of arsenic easily pre pared by boiling soft-soap, arsenic, and sulphur together.

This is done that the "ticks" they possess may

be killed; for being the only harbours for them now their mothers have lost their wool, the lambs would be so irritated as to render all improvement impossible.

In conclusion, to be really successful as a breeder of sheep, the farmer must not be satisfied with a knowledge of his flock in the aggregate, but he must be intimate with the members of that flock individually, and their antecedents. This can only be obtained by going down thoroughly and personally into the practical details, as very few breeders care to do. None know the trouble, care, pleasure, and profit of such a course, but such as practise it. Not a day should go by, without the farmer passing in review every sheep beneath his eye; and at least once a fortnight they should all come beneath his hand, as the touch is the best test of condition and comparative improvement that can be employed. Such constant attention will give a power of discernment to be obtained in no other way; and it is the possession of this power alone which constitutes the profit of the flock; for the unobservant and careless master will only discover a malady when it has gone too far to be remedied, while the observant master will detect by a species of anticipation, and prevent rather than attempt to cure. To this homily I will append a remark made by that indefatigable general, the late Sir Charles Napier, when at Cephalonia, and leave my readers to draw their own deductions therefrom :-"How entirely all things depend on the mode of executing them! How ridiculous mere theories are! My successor thought, as half the world always thinks, that a man in command has only to order, and obedience will follow. Hence they are baffled not from want of talent, but from inactivity; vainly thinking that while they spare themselves, everyone under them will work like horses." EUMAUS.

The gourd, beet, carrot, and turnip require delicate handling and a fine tilth, besides skill and capital, and necessarily imply a considerable advance in shelter, drainage, levelling, &c; but there are situations of mountain, moor, morass, crag, cliff, &c., where cultivation of the above-named herbaceous plants is entirely out of the question; and as there are some thousands of acres of waste that receive rain and sunshine in England, and yet produce little return, it is time to try if these unprofitable servants could not be set to work. Most farms have some waste lands, and the following experiments might be tried on a small scale on these smaller wastes first, before attempting them on a larger scale. To propose anything tender as a tenant of the waste would be quite out of the question, therefore I shall proceed at once to lay before the readers of the Mark-Lane Express my reasons for suggesting the adoption of shrubs instead of herbaceous plants into the agricultural service.

There is a limit set by Nature to the culture of hardy plants, viz., the line of perpetual snow; and if we wish

and dreary as they may be, we should consult the plants that have skirted the line of perpetual snow, and we shall find them ready to volunteer into a better country, and as we have no place so bad as the place they have left, it will be seen that they are decidedly bettering their condition, and thus all danger of growing them is at an end. I need not enumerate the plants that do not concern the farmer, for the lichens and other cryptogamous plants are not to be cultivated by any ordinary tillage, but the birch and the willow have their representatives in the high hill-tops bordering the boundary line where all vegetable life is wanting; it is to families like these, then, that we must look for the support we so much want of winter fodder. The tops of the heather may give a bite of green food for the "hill wether" to keep in life till the return of spring, but the plant is not adapted for a better place, and its rate of growth will for ever fix it to the mountain. It is far otherwise with the willow family. "Growing like a willow" is an idiom of our language; and when we see shoots of this tree (for it has both shrubs and trees) six feet long in one season, we cannot fail to appreciate the willow as a valuable fodder plant as far as bulk is concerned.

Some years ago I bought a goat and a kid, to try how many species of trees produced leaves and twigs that the goat would eat. Suffice it to state, here, that she ate the willow greedily; and when I was showing the experiment to an English nobleman who had travelled a great deal in the North of Europe, he told me that he had seen hay made of willow, and that it made good winter food. The willow has a great spread of foliage, and the amount of cellular tissue in the leaves and bark bears a

very large per-centage indeed to the woody fibre of the green shoot. All immature leaves, by a law of nature, adhere firmly to their shoots: when the leaf is ripe, it cuts itself off, with a clean-healed wound, in a very workmanlike manner; therefore in making hay of shrubs the leaves must be decidedly unripe in order to adhere to the stems. I need not tell any one that the willow will grow in any mud-bank at the level of the sea, and I have already said that the Salix antarctica on the mountain is a creeping shrub on the verge of perpetual snow. This immense range, from undrained swamps to bleak hill-tops, speaks volumes for the economical use of the willow; and if any one were to introduce a plant half as useful as the willow, to our agricultural societies, from some foreign country, he would be considered a benefactor to agriculture. When goats and rabbits bark trees for food in winter, they teach us an excellent practical lesson-viz., that the bark, and even the wood itself, is not so bad an article of food as we might have thought it to be; and when we see a person able to convert the woody fibre of an old shirt, or even a heap of sawdust, into sugar, we find that it is not without reason that the hares and rabbits have a nibble at the apple-trees in winter: but I should despair, after all this, of doing any good with such a subject, were it not that I have already one link in the chain, to weld this idea into-namely, the gorse, which seems now fairly adopted into agriculture. Yes, it is a fact that horses have actually been eating sticks, and thriving well on them. Thirty years ago, I saw the whin-mill at work, reducing the prickly fodder of the gorse-plant into food for horses; and all evidence, then and since, goes to prove its vast importance, not only as a tenant of the waste, but even as a cultivated plant for fodder.

After a very long acquaintance indeed with the plants indigenous to our clime that are likely to prove of service to us in cultivating what may properly be termed our wastes, I find only three that seem perfectly at home as slaves, or drudges, to do this dirty work; and they are -first, the willow, that is willing to grow in our osierbeds, in that which has not even the name of "dry land:" it will also thrive well anywhere else, for it is propagated by cuttings merely stuck into the ground; and if there be only one joint in the ground and one above it, the tree is planted. Willows are used by planters as nurses for other trees; and M'Gregor found

the black sallow particularly excelling as a screen against the sea-breeze. My father showed me large willow-trees, that were once the twigs used for tying up the bundles of trees from the nursery; and when he had planted the trees, he cut these twigs into sets, and stuck them into the ground: therefore, what I have stated about the willow is no experiment now, but an established piece of practical planting. Next in order comes the gorse, as a plant for waste lands; but of this I mean to say nothing, and pass on to the third slave or drudge, which is the ivy. This plant is one of our most beautiful evergreens, and is well known to gardeners and planters as a very bad character. It is so uncharitable as a neighbour to other shrubs and trees, that it beggars the earth in which they grow by its roots, and fixes the bark of even large trees so tightly to their stems, that the trees are actually choked by the network of ivy-shoots. All this merely illustrates the fact of this important plant being out of place. I have seen the same plant covering the grey face of a huge rock, and have seen the birds flocking to it for shelter; and in winter, when scarcely anything else was to be seen for snow, I have seen the shepherd cutting his ivy, and the anxious flock waiting around him for its downfal. The range of this plant, therefore, in no way interferes with that of the willow or the gorse; for it has a region of its own. It is a most determined grower. Wherever it can find a little vegetable mould, it will stick on like a leech, and never misses an opportunity of raising itself on any prop that comes in its way. It grows freely from cuttings, and still more freely from its berries, which, in good localities, it bears plentifully. It has no prickles, like the gorse, to contend with in its cultivation; and it forms a scene of singular beauty wherever it is cultivated. As a cover for game, it is a plant of the highest importance, and should never be planted where it has to be rooted out, as it is very unwilling to be dislodged when once in possession.

The limits of a newspaper will only admit of a hasty glance at these matters; but, as they will fall into hands that only require reminding, and to whom the thinga spoken of are no strangers, I must let them pass without further comment.

I remain, Sir, yours respectfully,

ALEX. FORSYTH.

100, Quay-street, Manchester, Feb. 24.

OF RAISING DUCKS. uninteresting to those of your readers who devote themselves to rural pursuits, and who pride themselves on having a well-attached poultry-yard, I hope it may be no tax upon their time and patience if I go somewhat into detail.

During many years I was struck with the general want of success which attend the raising of this species of poultry. Not one-sixth of the young were ever raised; they appeared to be subject to inuumerable diseases. Those that escaped were stunted in their growth, and did not arrive at full size till they were many months old. The general complaint among farmers and planters was, that this, the most valuable of our poultry, was a puny bird, hard to raise, and subject to many diseases. They could raise fowls and even turkeys, but there was no certainty with regard to the duck. Desirons of investigating the causes of a failure in

perhaps to them, tedious detail of experiments, which cost me much time and attention, but for which I was more than repaid by the successful result, I shall now proceed to give, under different heads, such simple directions as will enable our planters and farmers to supply their tables with this kind of poultry, which might be an object to those who are in the habit of supplying

markets.

1st. The Species and Varieties of Ducks best adapted to the purpose of Breeding.-The only two species of ducks that are raised in the United States are what are commonly called the English Duck and | the Muscovy Duck. The English Duck is a descendant of the wild duck that visits us every winter in such numbers, called Mallard (Anas Boschas); is found also in Europe, and breeds in England. Although not the largest, it is certainly among the finest-flavoured ducks in the world. The flavour of the famous Canvass-Back Duck (Anas Vallisneria) that is found so numerous in the Chesapeake, and more recently in the Santee and at the mouth of the Savannah River, is no doubt, superior to it, but it is supposed that this is owing to the peculiar kind of root on which that bird feeds, believed to be the Vallisneria Americana, and that were it fed on common food its flavour would not be superior. The English Duck, which is so common in our yards, has, from its long domestication, run into a number of varieties which differ so much from each other as to appear like different species; they are of different sizes, of a variety of colours and some are tufted. The variety to which I have usually given the preference, goes by the common name of Madagascar Duck; is distinguished by its being of the largest size, having a pretty long neck, and almost invariably a light streak above the eyes, and usually a small streak extending from the lower part of the upper mandible to below the eye. The Muscovy Duck (Anas Moschata) is another duck more recently introduced, but which is now very common, and is well deserving a place in our poultryyards. It was formerly, by most writers, considered as coming from the Eastern Continent; but is now well ascertained to be a native of South Amerca. This duck, in our southern climate, is, perhaps, more hardy than the other: sets more steady on its eggs, and lays in the spring and fall. A mongrel breed between this species and the English duck is easily produced, and has become common; but these, though they are good layers, are unable to propagate their species. There are other species of ducks, which the curious in these matters have partially succeeded in domesticating. I once saw a fine flock of the Gadwall Duck (Anas Stropera) which an individual in the upper part of the State of New York had succeeded in raising from ducks which he had captured, and which bred freely in his yard, and made no attempts at flying away. Our beautiful summer duck (Anas Sponsa) breeds freely in some parts of France and in the Zoological Garden, in England. But it is very probable that the two species above mentioned are as well adapted to our purposes as any other, and that for many years they will be the only ones which will be generally kept in our poultry-yards. One drake will answer for five or six ducks; where

mongrels are to be bred, place in separate yards one Muscovy drake to four English ducks. 2nd. The best mode of procuring an abundance of Eggs.-When ducks are raised in the country and have access to rice-fields, ditches, ponds, and the borders of rivers, they find food best suited to them, and generally lay early and freely; but where they are necessarily kept in yards, and do not possess the above advantages, it will be necessary to adapt their food to their situation. A mixture of any kind of animal food with their rice-flour, corn meal, or grist, given them regularly and plentifully three times a day, will enable you to procure a great abundance of eggs; where this is neglected your English ducks will lay but sparingly. I have observed that animal food is not so necessary to the Muscovy duck, but that they generally lay freely on being fed on grain alone.

3rd. Sitting and Hatching the Eggs.-The English duck, although a good layer, is very careless about hatching its eggs until late in the season. I have invariably used the common hen for that purpose; and when the young ducks are removed, as soon as they are dry their foster parent will sit again on other eggs, and I have thus known a single fowl to bring out three and even four broods of young ducks in succession. In that case she should be repaid for her faithfulness by being richly fed. The young ducklings in this climate leave the shell on the twenty-sixth day; the Muscovy sits a few days longer. A fowl of tolerable size will cover from thirteen to fifteen eggs. After the eggs have been four or five days under the hen, you may in the evening examine the eggs by the light of a candle or lamp. Place the eggs longitudinally between the fore finger and thumb-if the egg is likely to hatch, it will be of a dark colour, with streaks of red frequently perceptible; and the cavity on the thick end will be somewhat enlarged and transparent. If it is a clear egg, it will be wholly transparent, and it ought to be removed at once; and if it has not been too long kept in the nest, it is still fit for use.

In this way, when several hens have been set nearly at the same time, it will frequently be practicable to remove a sufficient number of clear eggs, so as to place a fresh setting of eggs under one or more of them. The Muscovy duck sits faithfully, and may as well be permitted to hatch her own young.

4th. Method of Destroying Fowl Lice.-The insects which infest the sitting hens may be easily destroyed by thoroughly sprinkling the nest and wetting the fowl even to the skin with a strong decoction, made by pouring hot water on a good handful of common leaf-tobacco, mixed when cold with a table-spoonful of spirits of turpentine, and double the quantity of gunpowder. It will be well also occasionally to take away their old nest, and make a new one of fresh hay or

straw.

5th. Duck Coops, Food, and manner of Rearing the Young.-Let your coop be made pretty large, say three or four feet in length and three in depth; let it be well shingled so as to exclude all water, and have a good pitch towards the front; let it be tight on three sides, and barred in front, with a