that the one i think Hardly a minute later I handed him the birds back, spluttered some excuse, and raced out of the gate, jumped onto my BSA B31 motorcycle and sped off, to North Baddesley, between Southampton and Romsey, where resided the Maestro Vic Robinson. Vic had won the Pau Grand National that year, with a beautiful Blue Cheq Pied Hen named Mademoiselle and in fact she had been 2nd Open the previous year from the same race. I barged into the garden, leathers flapping, and ignoring the large Alsation Vic kept and which started right in chewing my boots off my feet. Vic listened to my request to be permitted to handle Mademoiselle and her sisters, Scottie, Spotty and Fraulein and they hadnt changed, so why the fuss now? I spluttered out that Id discovered something terribly important, I thought, and I wanted to be sure. Perhaps because I still had vestige or two of my native Scots accent in those days, and Vic was an exiled Scot, himself, he reached in and handed me each of the four hens in turn. http://www.pigeonnetwork.com/admin/bilcos_bulletin/drone.cfm?ID=498 taken from here bilco just might