Written By John Caverhill

Like most farmers in the era of the general farm, we kept a flock of laying hens which was replaced every fall. Each year in early spring, a new batch of chicks would arrive. These would replace the present laying flock the following September. For the first couple of days after they hatch, baby chicks live on the residual egg yolk still in their system. This is ideal for commercial chick hatcheries because they have a two-day shipping window when the baby chicks don’t need to be fed or watered.
Baby chicks started life on our farm in a small cosy shelter called the colony house. It was a ten-foot square building with 1X6” birch pine siding on 2X4” framing. It had 2X6” flooring and a cottage roof of cedar shingles. The doorway was at one corner with a large window centring on the wall adjoining this corner, and another large window centring the wall opposite the door. The house rode on two heavy 2X12” skids, or runners, and was always oriented with the door facing east and the two windows facing south and west for maximum exposure to the sun’s light and warmth. The interior walls were covered with tarpaper. A small coal-fired brooder stove with its stovepipe leading straight up through the centre of the roof kept this nursery snug on the coldest days. The brooder stoves of those days were an ingenious design, their shape similar to the upright round stoves one used to see in railroad stations. Suspended from the top of the stove was a circular ‘hover’ that enclosed the stove like a straight-sided umbrella down to about a foot off the floor. This hover had a hinged flap that allowed access to the doors and draft controls of the stove. Coal was the fuel of choice because it produced a steady heat with minimum maintenance. Two fuelings, one in the morning and one at night, kept a steady, 24-hour fire. Until they get their feathers, baby chicks are extremely sensitive to temperature changes, so the brooder stoves had mechanical thermostats to maintain a consistent temperature setting.
At the beginning of March each year a couple of bales of peat moss would be spread evenly over the floor of the colony house, which had been cleaned and disinfected the previous fall. Peat moss is fine-textured and absorbent, and makes a warm ‘rug’ for baby chickens. The stove was installed, and feeders and waterers were checked, and then everything was ready. The baby chicks arrived in mid-March. At least a week before their scheduled arrival, the fire was started and never allowed to go out. This was done for two reasons. First, it ensured that the thermostat was working properly and keeping a constant temperature whether it was mild and sunny or cold and stormy, as is typical of March. Second, the interior of the house, having sat empty all winter, would be icy cold, so having the fire on for a week previous to the chicks’ arrival would warm and dry the inside wall and floor surfaces.
Dad used the colony house during the warmup week for another early spring rite. During cold stormy days in early March, there was no action yet in the sugar bush. The colony house provided a cosy place to clean, oil, and do any necessary repairs to the sets of harness for the horses. A few hours of maintenance were required, and then the harness sets were clean, shiny and ready for the upcoming work season. On a dreary March day with a northeast wind driving a cold mix of rain and snow into your face, it was heaven to quickly step in side, close the door, and just stand and absorb the snug peacefulness for a few minutes. It gave me a sort of ‘cabin the bush’ feeling. Dad could have just as easily repaired the harness in the house basement, but I think he enjoyed the cabin-in-the-bush feeling as much as I did.
That snug little colony house, soon to be filled with fluffy little cheeping chicks, was a welcome sign that spring was on its way.