and sent a portion of it to
his host. The reverend gentleman looked at the plateful sent him
attentively, and then said with a sigh, "I will trouble you to
exchange this for part of the other bird. _This_ was a peculiar
favorite, and I always fed it myself. I put a mark on the breast after
it was picked, for I could not bear to eat the little darling!"

We always thought that this sentimental divine had better either not
have had the "little darling" put into the pie, or have swallowed his
feelings and his favorite at the same time.

This dish seems to occasion wit as well as sentiment, for we were once
asked by a facetious friend, "Why is a pigeon in a pie like
Shakspeare's Richard III?" We "gave it up," and were told, "Because it
was bound unto the steak (stake), and could not fly." This may perhaps
be a worn-out jest, but it was fresh to the writer, and so perhaps it
may be to some of her readers.

We will say a few words on the management of pigeons before we
conclude this chapter.

It is necessary that a pan of water should be place in their house
each day for them to wash in, and that a large lump of bay-salt should
likewise be kept there. It should be occasionally cleaned out, and
this is all the trouble attending keeping them. Feed them three times
a day; and never throw more down than they pick up at a meal.

As I have said nothing of the profit derived from chickens when they
are _reared_ by the owner, so I now say nothing of the saving in
keeping pigeons, when we came to sow a large patch of Indian corn, as
well as some tares. We did so successfully in the acre of ground
called the Orchard; and though we had abundance of fine fruit from it,
the trees were not planted so thickly as to prevent any kind of crop
from flourishing. But we repeat, this little book is a manual for the
use of the beginner; and to such we hope it may prove both useful and
encouraging.

CHAPTER X.

HOW WE CURED OUR HAMS.

I have now recounted our experience in keeping cows, pigs, chickens,
ducks, rabbits, and pigeons; and with everything but the rabbits we
were amply satisfied with the return we received for our labor. We had
a constant supply of milk, butter, eggs, ducks, chickens, and pork,
not only fresh, but in the shape of good hams and bacon.

I do not know whether it is not presumptuous, in the face of Miss
Acton, Mrs. Rundle, and so many other authorities, not forgetting the
great Alexis Soyer, to give "our method