THE FANCIER.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1211, 17 May 1895, Page 29

THE FANCIER.

POULTRY.

Edited by Bed Cap. PIGEON FANCYING. A PBOFITABLE HOBBY. “Scout” in the Sydney Mail gives the following interesting description of a pigeon fancier’s establishment: — Mr Kinna’s house and grounds are to the east of Molong, on the side of a hill. A little back and north of his pretty home —which, by the way, is known as Dareenda —is the considerable enclosure containing over 300 highly-bred, various and very beautiful birds, as well as numerous pens of game fowls. Probably, to 90 per cent, of my readers a visit to a pigeon fancier s would be a revelation. To such, then, it will come as a surprise when I say that out of the 300 and odd highly-bred pigeons (embracing 51 distinct varieties) to be seen in Mr Kinna’s 61 lofty and admirable pens, you will not find one similar to those you are accustomed to see flying in flocks in every town-suburb and throughout the country. They are all, without exception, purebred, typical birds; each one is distinct of its kind, in shape and plumage, as is a magpie from a crow. Before referring more particularly to the varieties to be found in this fine collection, let me state that, within a high, stronglybuilt wall constructed to keep out the keen winter winds are two separate quadrangles, each about 100 ft x 50ft. The first you pass through. is devoted mainly to prize game fowls, save one end, where are the seven extra large pens or cages or, technically, “lofts,” 18ft deep, by 9ft wide, by 9ft in height, assigned to the young pigeons before they pair, of which there are somewhere about 200 at the present time. Leaving this enclosure and passing through another door into the inner quadrangle, you come upon a scene which, whether you be fancier or layman, expert or novice, cannot fail to delight you. This quadrangle, also, is, as I say, about 100 ft x 50ft. In the centre is a grassy lawn, with one or two small circular flower-beds. Around the lawn is a neatly-tiled course, to runoff the rain-water, bordering a compact gravel path, and the entire area of the sides is taken up with 54large pens or cages. These are breeding pens containing two birds each. Each is 6ft 6in x 6ft 6in x 7ft high. Each has its separate door opening to the path and lawn, its roof, its perch, its nest, and its airy wire sides, and white-wasted woodwork, and all are scrupulously clean. Over all—over cages and lawn covering the entire quadrangle —stayed and stretched over a light framework is a roof, if one may call it so, of wire netting, which, of course, obstructs neither sunlight nor air. It only ensures the safety of the beautiful prisoners, who, however, would not thank, you to be anywhere else. So piuch for the habitations, save to add that here and there are shallow tin baths of water, which are changed twice daily. The place, as its owner said, is even cat-proof. If I have succeeded in enabling you to see this quadrangle of lawn, &c., surrounded by white wired cage houses, you will be able, too, to picture it, with its scores of birds of most varied colours and shapes —yet all pigeons —and each carrying the unmistakable evidence of pure, high, distinctive breeding in shape and ordered colouring. Most of them are in their pens, but the doors of not a few of the houses are open, and numbers of the handsome tenants are promenading, or flitting and flying about the lawn. Perhaps, if suddenly asked which of the 51 distinct varieties you thought most striking, you would be inclined to name the Pouters, from their extraordinarily long—so to say—trousered legs, their seemingly long-tailed coats, and wonderfully puffed-out chests, and air of insufferable self-importance. They remind me of old Anglo-Indian beaux of the old school fooling around at an English wateringplace. As remarkable, indeed, to the novice, and infinitely more successful and coyly charming, are the Jacobins, with their high ruffs around their necks, and indeed half hiding their coquettish little heads. Over the tops of the ruffs their brilliant eyes twinkle- incessantly, and ogle you, as do those of a Spanish dona over her fan. Another type I fell in love with is the Nun. Perhaps no pigeon has a purer, more virginal look than this exquisitelyformed bird, with its delicate, clear-cut head, set in a rich, black hood, and its faultlessly - graceful form of the purest white, with black wings. I am not going through the 51 varieties, though they one and all invite admiring comment. I will content myself with naming the types. Yet I cannot pass those pirouetting, exquisitely feminine W hite Fantails. Surely that lovely little lady bird, as she bows and ducks and becks and nods her charming head, and curves and arches her chest and neck, and displays in its perfection lace-edged, fan-like tail, surely she

must, I say, overbalance backwards —and I wait to see her do it. But she does it not. She knows better; she is feminine. She knows just how far she may go; and I pass on. In brilliant contrast to the Fantails are the handsome Black Barbs, with their compact figures and neat heads and tiny beaks, and the. extraordinary pink corrugations—technically known as wattle —around the eyes and beak. They have a look indicative of their sultry, North African origin. Utterly diverse from these are the White Dragoons, with their bred-to-a-fine-point look and trim, military carriage. Long in the head and beak and very taper in the neck and body are these birds, with their white uniforms —white wattle—and very high-bred air. I pick out the White Dragoons, but there are also the Blue Dragoons (Birmingham fancy) and Blue Dragoons (London fancy), as, indeed, of every kind there are distinctive varieties. Take the Jacobin, to wit, of which there are five varieties here—Bed, Black, Yellow, Dun and Strawberry; or the Owls—a very fine class of these are the White Whiskered, the Blue English, the Silver English and the Blue African; and so on throughout all the types. Yes, I know I said I was not going to describe them all, and I am not. I will only give that distinction to one other class—the Archangels, with .their rich plumage of dark, handsome wings and red, irridescent bodies, which shimmer all the colours of the rainbow in the bright sunlight. The Turbits, with their numerous varieties, the Antwerps and Magpies, of many kinds, the Helmets, the Homers, the Trumpeters, the Birmingham Boilers, the Satinettes, and Bluettes —well, they would all detain us, but must not. “ Yes, that’s my hobby—my wife’s and mine,” said Mr Kinna, “and a very healthy one it is, too. It gives us plenty of change of occupation and pleasure, and, as a matter, of fact, I never want to go away from home.” Well, that ought to put the wives on the side of a hobby, if they are not there already. A collection like this, it goes without saying, takes several years to form, and the high standard attained, and maintained, is the result of no little thought, study, and industry in breeding, crossing and occasional importing. This should be an incentive to young fanciers, as showing the hobby is worth tackling; that there-is sohiething to do in it. You are always learning, in fact. “And does it pay?”,l asked. “Yes, certainly,” was the prompt answer. “We are frequently showing, at such shows as Bathurst and Orange, and elsewhere, and the numerous prizes and the sale of youngbirds put us well on the right side of the ledger with our hobby.” In this connection, Mr Kinna incidentally mentioned that he had received from the sources mentioned, in one year, as much as .£l3O. Pigeon fancying is unquestionably a very charming and enjoyable hobby, and there are not a few amateur fanciers with promising collections in the colonies. There is room for more. But if not that hobby, and you have not got one, my advice is get one—and a good one. And when you have got it, ride to win, like the owner of the one at Molong.