people preferred to eat their fish and flesh separately. Now this is all changed.

Duck-culture of today is quite a different thing from the days of yore. Then, the young birds were confided to the tender mercies of the old hen. Now, the business is all done artificially. The artificially-grown, scrap-fed duckling of the interior is a far different bird from his fishy-fed brother of the coast. He has been educated to a complete indifference to water except to satisfy his thirst. Taught to take on flesh and fat instead of feathers, his body is widened out and rounded off, and, when properly denuded of his feathers, is a thing of beauty.

Ducks In Great Demand for Food.

This sudden popularity of the duck in our markets, the great demand for them on the tables of our epicures, together with the immense profits realized from growing them, has naturally created quite an interest among poultry men; so much so that I am constantly flooded with letters filled with inquiries as to which is the best variety to raise, which are the best layers, if they can be hatched in incubators, what kind of buildings are necessary, the amount of profit realized,—in short, wishing me to give them the whole thing in detail, which, were one willing, it would be completely out of one's power to do. As there seems to be no work published in the country to meet this case and answer these queries, in pure self-defense, and through earnest persuasion of many friends, I shall, to the best of my ability, through this little treatise, endeavor to answer them, together with many other points which will naturally suggest themselves.

I shall confine myself almost entirely to an exposition of the artificial method, giving my own experience in the business for the last thirty years in detail. In doing this, the most approved buildings will be (both for brooding and breeding) described in full, together with cuts of the egg in different stages of incubation, and the living and dead germ compared, and how to distinguish each, plainly told. Just here let me say that a great deal of skepticism prevails among people in general and farmers in particular. They do not believe in the success of artificial poultry growing, or, indeed, of growing it in large numbers in any other way. As a proof of their assertions they will tell you that more than three-fourths of the people who attempt the business on a large scale make a complete failure of it. And it is the plain truth. There are few communities in this country, large as it is, but that, at some time in the past, has had a bogus incubator within its limits, or a good one that has been badly managed. The unfortunate experience of these men has spread for miles in all directions. There is but one verdict. The man is never condemned. The system is so denounced that a strong prejudice exists against all incubators, which it is difficult to combat. Every town, too, has had its representative poultry man who has erected extensive building's with a view to growing poultry on a large scale in the natural way. He, too, has met with disaster. Failure has attended his efforts, and the community is still more embittered against the whole thing, and the emphatic "It can't be done," meets you on every side.

Now, there is a cause for all this. Where is it? In the men. They do not comply with the conditions of success, and failure is the result. We will endeavor to give some of the reasons why: Nearly three-fourths of these people come from the city. Now, city people have unfortunately imbibed the impression that the necessary amount of brains and executive ability required to successfully run a mercantile, manufacturing or broker's business in the city is largely in excess of that required to run a successful poultry or agricultural ranch in the country.

Raising Poultry in the Country.

Men who have impoverished themselves by repeated failures in the city come out to retrieve their fortunes by raising poultry in the country. They visit your place and see thousands of young ducklings of all sizes and ages, each one vieing with the other as to which will consume the most food. They are completely carried away with the sight. They question you closely in regard to the profit derived from the business, and then openly avow their intention of doing the same thing themselves. You advise beginning small, and meekly suggest the possibility of failure through inexperience. The incredulous smile that plays over their features informs you that advice is wasted. "Why, haven't I read up all the poultry journals and got the whole thing down fine?"

Others, still, who, from close confinement at sedentary work in the city, are anxious to engage in a business which promises equally to restore their health as well as to provide them a livelihood. These invalids come out with their exhausted energies and dilapidated constitutions to engage in a business which, to insure success, requires a minuteness of detail and intensity of application second to none. They are unequal to the six or eight hours required of them on a revolving stool in the counting-room in the city, but are equal to the fourteen and sixteen hours indispensable to the poultry business in the country. Is it strange that a large proportion of these men fail?

Others, still, come to us wishing to engage in the business, at the same time candidly acknowledging their complete ignorance and inexperience. They frankly state their circumstances. They are poor, with families to support, and are not afraid of work, throwing themselves, as it were, upon one's mercy. They seek a good, healthy and fairly profitable occupation in which they can cultivate the physique and morals of their children away from the temptations of city life. Now you take kindly to such men; readily forfeit any advantages which may accrue to yourself through want of candor on your part, gauge their calibre, and to the best of your ability measure their chances of success, and give them the best advice you can, which advice usually is to begin small,—say with one machine, buildings in proportion, and increase their plant as their experience and judgment dictates.

Raise Ducks and Chicks.

But the reader will say: "What has all this to do with duck-culture?" Simply this: It is to give the would-be poultry enthusiast some idea of what he has to contend with before he begins. To convince him that this is no child's play—that the care of young ducks and chicks means early hours and late. The closest confinement and application is required for at least six months of the year, and if he is at all afraid of hard work or of soiling his fingers, he had better stop where he is. The theory that the poultry business furnishes a good occupation for little boys and girls, superannuated old men and invalids, has long since exploded. We advise people to secure a fair share of health before they begin and then they will be sure to keep it. As an inducement to all, I would say that there is nothing in the way of farm industry or any other legitimate occupation which will at all compare with the profits obtained from poultry when artificially conducted. There are, however, a few notable exceptions in favor of watered railroad stock, bogus mining shares, patent medicines, and the business done by our bank cashiers when guaranteed a safe transit through to Canada. I would advise all contemplating the poultry business to combine the growing of ducks and chicks together, for the reason that more profit can be realized from both than from either alone, because they do not necessarily interfere with each other, and the same buildings and machinery can be utilized for both. The brooding-house should be filled with chicks in November