The peacock is seldom if ever sent to table at the present day in its gorgeous plumes, the latest recorded instance of its appearance being at a dinner given to William IV. when Duke of Clarence, by the governor of Grenada; but our cooks still adorn the supper table with game pies embellished with the stuffed heads and displayed tails of pheasants; and young pea-fowls are still eaten with relish on the rare occasions when they are obtainable, as are also cygnets, the swan, like the peacock, having passed away from the ordinary cook's domain, but the great swannery at Abbotsbury still sends some yearly to the Queen's table, and we sometimes, though very rarely, see swans hanging in poulterers' shops.

The place of both these former favourites has been taken by the turkey, which, ever since its first introduction, has been growing in favour until it has now become so much a necessity, that there is scarcely a household in the three kingdoms of any social standing, which does not place a turkey on the table at Christmas, and one wonders in contemplating the tons upon tons displayed in shops and stores during the winter, where they can have come from. Norfolk turkeys take the first place in the market, and magnificent specimens they are, with sufficient white dainty meat on the breast to serve a family party, whilst all the masculine members of the household may breakfast on the well-devilled legs.

There has been much discussion as to whether the birds known to the ancients as meleagrides were the same as our turkeys, but the opinion is now generally held that the former birds were guinea-fowls, and that the turkey was unknown before the days of Columbus, being a native of America, where it is still found wild, and having been introduced to Europe by Jesuit missionaries, but it was certainly known in England in the reign of Henry VIII., and, according to Beckmann, began to appear as a Christmas dish about 1585.

The Talegalla or brush-turkey, which builds curious mounds in which to lay its eggs, allowing them to be hatched by the heat generated by the fermentation of the heaped-up material, is much sought by the Australian savages as an article of food, and, like all wild birds, is eaten with gusto by the sportsman, but it is not at all like the common turkey. The guinea-fowl, supposed to have been the bird known to the ancients as turkey, has long been domesticated in England, and is a most useful stop-gap, coming into season just when game and poultry are scarce: when young it is almost equal to pheasant. It is a very shy bird, and although you may pet the pretty little chicks, they are sure to fly away as soon as they can, and will seldom roost with common fowls, but will prefer the highest tree they can find, and lay their eggs in the most inaccessible places, by preference in a bed of stinging nettles.

The chief rival of the turkey is the goose, which is, indeed, so highly esteemed by the 'masses,' that goose clubs have long been established, to which the mechanic subscribes for many weeks before Christmas, in order to receive a fine fat goose for the delectation of himself and family at the winter festival. The savoury bird is not despised by more aristocratic palates, although from the sage and onion accompaniment which is indispensable, it may not appear on state occasions.

Caesar tells us that the ancient Britons did not consider it lawful to eat the hare and the cock and the goose, probably because these animals were sacred among them, as they were - or at least the cock and the goose - among many other peoples. It seems probable that the geese which saved the Capitol were sacred birds kept for sacrifice, and the goose was certainly among the sacred animals of Egypt, but that did not prevent their being eaten; and since the day when Queen Elizabeth commanded the goose to be served on Michaelmas Day to commemorate the destruction of the Spanish Armada, the slaughter of the goose family has gone on in a yearly increasing ratio, and of late a foreign trade has sprung up in this favourite food, and we see in the market numberless frozen geese from Russia. Now that feather beds have gone so much out of fashion, the goose is seldom robbed of her down before death; but the process was never a very cruel one, as the housewife only took what the bird would have plucked oft' herself to line her nest. The grey-goose quill has also been largely superseded by the steel pen, yet probably hundreds of thousands of goose quills are still used annually. The goose is not a favourite with the farmer, who declares that nothing will feed upon the pasture where geese are kept, as they make the grass rank and sour; nevertheless, large flocks are kept on commons, and share the pasture with horses, cows, and sheep. The liver of the goose was as highly esteemed by the ancient Romans as by lovers of pate de foie gras nowadays, and means had even then been found to enlarge it artificially. Horace wrote -

'The slaves behind in mighty charger bore A crane in pieces torn, and powder'd o'er With salt and flour; and a white gander's 1 ver, Stuff'd fat with figs, bespoke the curious giver.'

Francis's Hor., B. ii., s. 8.

The duck does not seem to have been so highly esteemed among the ancients; neverthtless, in wisdom it beats the domestic fowl hollow. Naturalists have lately been maligning the tame duck, declaring that its brain is not so large as that of its wild brother - in fact, that it has lost in intelligence from associating with human beings instead of shunning them. It may probably have lost some of its native cunning, nevertheless, the tame duck is certainly not lacking in sense, and we have often been interested by the 'cuteness of this well-known bird. The way in which it will escape from danger in a crowded thoroughfare, notwithstanding its awkward gait, is quite curious, of which a very singular instance was related by an omnibus-driver, who saw a duck with five or six young ones cross safely from Hyde Park to Green Park in the middle of the day, when Hyde Park Corner was thronged with vehicles of all kinds. We remember an amusing episode relating to these birds which will interest our readers.

Whilst on a visit in the country some years ago we watched the polite behaviour of some neighbours' ducks with much amusement. Two ducks belonging to a cottage, desirous of mixing with their fellows, used to creep under a gate and cross the road in the early morning to a farmyard where many others of their kind disported themselves, and, after a day's grubbing, the drake from the farm used to conduct the visitors to their own quarters at sunset in a most ludicrous manner. After leading them to the gate of their domain, he stood by to watch them creep under, but never attempted to follow them: then a great deal of bowing and quacking would take place between the ducks on one side of the gate and the drake on the other - evidently a vote of thanks for polite attentions was duly conveyed and graciously accepted. Then the two ducks would waddle off across a small field to their bedchamber, whilst the drake remained outside the gate watching till they had entered their abode, when, after a few quacks from the ducks to announce their safe arrival, and a good-night in reply from the drake, he would turn away and waddle off to his own harem, to repeat the same polite performance the next night.

Everyone will allow that ducks are good eating, notwithstanding the assertion that they are foul feeders. Undoubtedly they will, like the pig, swallow any garbage, but their preference is for slugs and snails, and, if allowed to search for themselves in the early morning and late in the evening, they will soon fatten upon these gardeners' enemies, and require very little feeding except in dry, hot, and frosty weather; and, but that their waddling feet tread down the earth too much, they are excellent assistants to the gardener.

Seeing the enormous yearly consumption of the domestic fowl, it is matter of surprise that eggs and poultry are not more cultivated in England. There seems no reason why English farmers should not find it as profitable an industry as the French and Irish do; but there exists a general opinion that they cannot be made to pay, and consequently the egg and poultry trade is largely given over to foreigners, and of late an immense number of frozen fowls have found their way into the London market - little, short-necked, ill-favoured things, said to come from Russia, but, appearing at a time when English fowls are scarce and dear, they are a very acceptable addition to the menu, although not to be compared in quality with the home-grown fowls from Surrey, Norfolk, and the west of England. Fowls seem to have been domesticated from time immemorial. In Egypt they were even hatched by incubators many centuries B.C. In Greece and Rome the cock was frequently offered in sacrifice, and the regularity of the hour of crowing made it everywhere useful as a timekeeper before the days of clocks, so that we find cock-crowing referred to in Scripture as the time preceding the morning.

Cocks were largely used in divination in Greece and Rome, for not only were auguries derived from an inspection of the entrails, but they were supposed to divine by pecking grain from certain cards placed before them; but, as there are tricks in all trades, it was discovered that the priests had found the way to compel fate, by placing wax imitations of grain on those cards they did not wish to have chosen, and the bird was wise enough to prefer the real to the imitation grain.

Among the many breeds of fowls some are preferred for flavour, others for size, or for the superiority of their eggs. The Dorking and the game fowl are, perhaps, the prime favourites in England for cooking purposes, the Spanish for laying properties, and the Cochin China for the size and flavour of the eggs; but the breeds cultivated by poultry fanciers are too numerous to mention - for profit, probably the common barn-door fowl of mixed breed is the best.