Like many other words, this is a subject easy to say but much harder to define. To me it is closely related to that other ambiguous word, commonsense, which is just as difficult to explain. Stockmanship is one of those attributes one either has or has not; it can be learned but only by those in whom the rudiments already exist. In some ways the poor stockman has a closed mind, seeing no reason why they should or even need to change their approach to livestock. More often than not the good stockman comes from a long line connected with the keeping of livestock. Which is not to say that those with such an ancestry are automatically good stockmen or women, but it helps if one is brought up in such an environment.

To illustrate my last remark, I have seen several judges who came from such backgrounds but who, when judging, would grab the first part of the bird that came to hand, whether head, tail, wing or leg. On the other hand I have noticed quite young children who, when visiting livestock, will dash to wherever the birds or animals are to be found, but slow up and quietly approach them as soon as they are in sight. The chances are very much on them becoming good stockpersons as they instinctively know one should use an unhurried approach to all forms of animals or birds.

Of course, this is not the beginning and end of the subject. Feeding, handling, being able to spot loss of condition quickly and knowing how to deal with it, all have their place in the art of livestock keeping. All this of course can be learned from books or other people, although much of it comes naturally to the born stockperson.

When the stockperson becomes an exhibitor as well, they are usually the ones who do well from the start. Their inherited or natural ability pays dividends almost immediately whereas the true tyro faces a long apprenticeship. Selecting breeding stock or those suitable for exhibition is quickly demonstrated by the "natural", whilst those coming to the game with no such advantages usually find they have a hard "row to hoe".

Another field the natural stockperson finds easier is that of learning the many different breeds and varieties and what distinguishes them from one another. This was brought home to me when I took applicants for their judging tests at the National Poultry Shows. Some with only a few years experience of the Fancy would sail through, others with many years longer found it hard to name more than a handful of breeds and varieties. Not that they were alone in this, believe it or not, I once heard an A Panel judge ask his steward what an Australorp was and, on being told, give it first without having the rest of the class out. He may have kept several different types of livestock over a long period but in my book was not a true stockman.

As I have already indicated, the real stockperson starts their career in the exhibition game with a distinct advantage. I have seldom found when judging that an exhibit passed for what I class as lack of show condition belongs to a true stockman or woman. Such people are extremely unlikely to pen a bird which is lousy, has a cold or scaly leg, or is in poor physical condition or is too fat. They instinctively check such things if not daily, which is difficult for fully employed persons in the winter months, then each weekend.

Another trait which indicates the subject of this article is the absence of sick or weedy birds or animals on his or her premises. Sentiment is ruthlessly suppressed simply because of the dangers inherent in allowing sick specimens to infect the rest. Only the mildest of cases are treated and then soon disposed of unless recovery is quickly completed.

The frequently heard opinion that a poor specimen of a youngster might make something some day if given time, betrays a vain hope against experience. Culling from day one is the key to healthy and progressive stock keeping. The founders of our modern breeds of cattle believed in "breed close and cull hard", and the old shepherds walked softly in the fold; not bad mottos for those who aspire to good stock practices.

Adapted from 'Stockmanship', by Dick Ricketts, in the Poultry Club Yearbook.