EGGS.

"Videsne, ut in proverbio sit ovorum inter se similitudo ? tamen hoc accepimus, Deli fuisse complures, salvis rebus illis, qui gallinas alere permultas quæstûs causâ solerent. Hi cum ova inspexerant, quæ id gallina peperisset, dicere solebant."-CICERO, II. Academicarum.

"Do you see that the resemblance of one egg with another has passed into a proverb? Yet, granting this to be true, I have heard that there were in Delos many people who used to keep a number of Hens for the sake of profit; and when they inspected their Eggs, were in the habit of pronouncing which Hen had laid that particular one.'

THE Deliaci, it is clear, knew something about "Eyes and no Eyes, or the Art of Seeing;" for Eggs are popularly supposed to be so much alike, that what can be said about one Egg is thought applicable to every other laid by the same species of bird, the common Hen for example; but there is nearly as much distinguishable difference between the units in every Egg-basket which is carried to market, as there is between the faces in a crowd of men, or the hounds in a pack. To every Hen belongs an individual peculiarity in the form, colour, and size of the Egg she lays, which never changes during her whole lifetime, so long as she remains in health, and which is as well known to those who are in the habit of taking her produce, as the handwriting of their nearest acquaintance. Some Hens lay smooth cream-coloured Eggs, others rough, chalky, granulated ones: there is the buff, the snow-white, the spherical, the oval, the pear-shaped, and the emphatically Egg-shaped Egg. A farmer's wife who interests herself in the matter, will tell you with precision, in looking over her stores, "this Egg was laid by such a Hen "—a favourite perhaps-" this one by such another;" and it would be possible that she should go on so throughout the whole flock of poultry. Of course, the greater the number kept, the greater becomes the difficulty in learning the precise marks of each. From a basket of thirty Eggs,

gathered in a farm yard as they came to hand, eleven, laid by one or two Hens, whose race we were desirous to continue, were selected in about two minutes by the friend who supplied us with them. If four dozen Eggs, laid by no more than four different Hens, were put at random on a table, the chances are that it would be as easy to sort them as the four suits in a pack of cards.

This fact might give rise to curious doubts in a court of justice. When petty pilfering has been suspected about a farm, Eggs have been minutely marked and returned to the places whence they were taken; and the parties, in whose possession they were subsequently found, have been convicted of the theft. And this-if we shut our eyes to the crime (for it is a crime) of laying traps and throwing temptation in the way of the weak-was satisfactory proof. But there are some cases in which the identity of an Egg could be sworn to without any marking whatsoever; where the person robbed could affirm positively "this Egg is my property, laid by such a Hen,"-could pick it out from a quantity laid by other Hens, and could produce other Eggs to pattern it in proof of his assertion. Few town-bred juries would believe this; and yet it is quite as possible as that a north-country shepherd should swear to the countenance of a single sheep stolen from a flock of several hundreds-after the death of the animal too-which has been done.

A more practical and agreeable application of our remarks may be made in the choice of Eggs for hatching. It has been copied and re-copied from quarto to octavo, through duodecimo and pamphlet, that small round Eggs produce female, and long pointed ones male chicks. Now I assert that the Hen who lays one round Egg, will continue to lay all her Eggs round; and the Hen that lays one oblong, will lay all oblong. Consequently, one Hen would be the unceasing mother of Cocks, another must remain the perpetual producer of Pullets; which is absurd, as daily experience proves. Every dairy-maid knows that when a Hen steals a nest and hatches her own Eggs only,

the brood which she brings home contains a fair proportion of either sex. I know well that if any of the said Hen's female acquaintance spy out her secret hoard, they will set other bipeds a good example by adding to, instead of subtracting from, the property of her neighbour. But such chance additions are not sufficient to account for the mixture of Cocks and Hens in self-set broods, supposing the theory to be correct, that the sex of the future chick is denoted by the form of the Egg.

Here is an experiment in point. An old lady, whose fowls where all white, gave me a small globular Egg, as round as a ball; it was added to a clutch of Speckled Dorkings. The result was the due number of Dorkings, and one white cockerel, which we kept till he began to crow: it ought to have been a pullet, unless the compositor's fingers have been busy in reprinting one error at least.

Another supposed test is the position of the air-bag at the blunt end of the shell. We are told that, “ if it be a little on one side it will produce a Hen; if this vacuity be exactly in the centre, it will produce a Cock." But, take a basket of Eggs, examine them as directed, by holding them between your eye and a candle, and you will find very few indeed in which you can say that the air-bubble is exactly concentrical with the axis of the Egg. A Cock ought thus to be, like Ovid's black Swan, a rare bird. But in many broods, the cockerels bear a proportion of at least one-third, sometimes two-thirds; especially in those hatched during winter or in unfavourable seasons; the immediate cause being, doubtless, that the Eggs producing the robuster sex possess a stronger vitality; the more remote cause being the same wise law of Providence, through which, in the human race, more males are born into the world than females, to meet the wear and tear of war, labour, and accident.

In short the Bubble Theory, as far as I have seen, is properly described by its name; and there are, I believe, no known means of determining beforehand the sex of fowls, except, perhaps, that Cocks may be more likely to

issue from large Eggs and Hens from small ones. Knowing, however, that the Egg of each Hen may be recognised, we have thus the means of propagating from those parents whose race we deem most desirable to continue.

Horace, Columella, and Pliny had the same notions respecting the shape of Eggs as are current now, but they applied them to eating, rather than hatching purposes. The long eggs were better tasted, according to them, because they contained Cocks. "Feminam edunt, quæ rotundiora gignuntur, reliqua marem."-Pliny, Lib. x. c. 74. "Those which are laid round, produce a female the rest, a male."

Again,

"Longa quibus facies ovis erit, illa memento,

Ut succi melioris, et ut magis alba rotundis,

Ponere, namque marem cohibent callosa vitellum."

HORACE, Serm. 1. ii., Sat. 4, line 12.

Quaintly rendered by Philip Francis, D.D. :

"Long be your Eggs, far sweeter than the round,

Cock-Eggs they are, more nourishing and sound."

;

The popular notion now is that Eggs with buff and brownish shells have a higher flavour, and are more nutritious. Aristotle's opinion is exactly the reverse of that of the Romans. He says that, εἶναι τὰ μὲν μακρὰ καὶ ὀξέα τῶν ὠῶν θηλέα, τὰ δὲ στρογγύλα, καὶ περιφέρειαν ἔχοντα KaTà T' öğù äþþeva—" long and sharp Eggs are females, but that those that are spherical and have a convexity close to the sharp end are males." One rule is just as good as the other; that is, good for nothing. When any one will produce a brood consisting entirely of pullets hatched from Eggs selected with that view, I will allow that there exist practical criteria for judging before-hand of the sex of an Egg. "Preserved Eggs," says Cobbett, (6 are things to run from, not after." Perhaps so, perhaps not, as the case may be. At any rate, many articles of cookery, which cannot be made without Eggs, are not things to run from; and, therefore, preserved Eggs must be had, unless

you choose to disappoint the little folks of their Christmas plum-pudding. The greater part of the Eggs brought to market in Norfolk during winter, are certainly displeasing enough, quite uneatable as Eggs, and only not offensive to the smell. They are saved from putrefaction by immersion in lime-water, to which salt is added by some housewives. When wanted, they are fished out of the tub, wiped, rubbed with a little silver-sand to give a fresh looking roughness to the shell, and sold at the rate of eight for a shilling, if the seasons happen to be severe. Cooks say they answer their purpose: but it is assuredly worth while to try for something better.

Reaumur's experiments with varnish, so well known through the industry of compilers, appear to have succeeded. But varnished Eggs would be both too troublesome and too expensive to be the subject of more than mere experiment. The best way of obtaining a practical result is to inquire what method is pursued by any set of people to whom preserved Eggs are a matter of necessity, not luxury. Now there exists a tribe of men, British subjects, whose daily food, whose staff of life, is fowls and Eggs-both preserved during great part of the year. In maps of the Ancient World, the orbis veteribus notus, we see nations marked down as Ichthyophagi, Fish-eaters, Lotophagi, Lotus-eaters; and a new race, peculiar to the present day, appears to be springing up, the Mycophagi, or Fungus-eaters, who will be wise if they listen to the warnings of Dr. Lindley. Had the people of St. Kilda been known in those days, they would have been styled Ornithophagi, Bird-eaters, and Oophagi, Egg-eaters. Instead of their keeping Fowls, the Fowls keep them. Martin, in his voyage to the Island of St. Kilda, (London, MDCXCVIII.) says, "I remember the allowance of each Man per diem, beside a Barley Cake, was Eighteen of the Eggs laid by the Fowl called by them Lavy,* and a greater Number of the

* Subsequently he says, "The Lavy, so called by the Inhabitants of St. Kilda; by the Welch, a Guillem; it comes near to the bigness