The Dorset County Express and Agricultural Gazette.
Dorchester, Dorset, England, 1862-12-16 00:00:00

ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS.

THE HORSE, AND FACTS AHD FANCIES
ABOUT HIM.—No. 15.

Although we have appeared to speak of the evil of
-taming hunters to gross, in cocnectios with the state
of the body of the animal, we mast not be understood
to mean we have nothing to my on behalf of the legs
as well. Yes!" yes r the grass lover says, "Does
the legs good,dosn't it ?I thought you would own that."
Dear, and impetuous nit, not so fast pray ; became we
molly mean to prove to you that this run at grass is
injurious to both legs and feet. Feet, say you, "lion'
can that be! however all men agree on the first point,
everybody knows the feet are benefitted through noes.
'tact with the cold earth." We are not so sure of this,
although the dews of night may be favourable to the
'feet of a horse, but we contend that they can, by
proper management, receive all those advantages in a
loose house during the seminar months. Now, as to
the effect on the legs of the hunter in the summer
morning. Few hunters are what may be called,
*•' sound all round." There is usually a joint loose,
• screwy-like, somewhere about them. if it is so with
ourselves ; if we find one joint not so free of action as
the other, one ankle • little tender, and the muscles
drawn or contracted of the leg; or any other little
symptom shows itself, *hick tells as a screw le loose,
what do we do for ourselves--why rest the limbs, and
"rest it" the doctor says. Our own plan for ourselves,
without much ado, is rest. We grumble, contract gouty
ideas, but still we carefully rest the limb, and even
when it is well, we put our foot down very gingerly
for sonic days, fearing exertion may renew the injury.
This is bowl we itateratty serve ourselves. Should we
not serve the horse in • like manner' But does a
horse Mimed by jumping one of his legs, by it blow
or a stain, which from the nature of the work he le
very liable to do, is he indulged with • rest as we took
our rest No !he is played with for • little, sent out
for walking clearings, and if not soon well, blistered, or
fired, or some other barbarity is practised ; then out
he goes to grass to be bullied by dim, or cattle, and
kept through sudden frights, and naturally high
spirits, galloping about mash, we should fanoy, to the
injury of the already ill-seed limb. There are other
objections to this system of grassing hunters, which
may as well be mentioned here. The first is the great
risk ran of injuring their legs by the work we are
obliged to give them when heary, to get rid of the
load of flesh which they have accumulated at grass.
These hones throw 'pleats and become lame ; for the
-work, amaidering the weight of themselves, and the
strain upon muscles and tendon (now in a flabby, un-
healthy state), they are obliged to do before they begin
admit work in the field, is enough to destroy the beet
legs in the world. In fact, the sommer injury does
DOS end with the summer. A summer's grass destroys
the winter legs. Nine times out of ten, we belays, if
• friend's horse shows symptoms of lameness, or is
lame about the beginning of the hunting season, you
will find he has been simmered at grass. The second
objection to turning hunters out to gran is the great
stress which is laid upon the sinews of the fore leg
when the animal is in the act of grazing. It is well
known that the legs of horses are seldom, if ever,
much longer at any period of their lives, than they are
when foaled, or, at least, at the expiration of the first
year, and that the body, when at maturity, rises to the
height prescribed, as it were, by the length of the
legs. This, however, chiefly applies to homes which
have been reared in a natural state, and not forced by
worn, which most colts now are that promise to make
valuable or first-rate hunters. In this case, more thou
amid, we may venture to say intended growth of the
body takes place, which, while it adds iouch to their
-value, and produces what we so much prise, the short-
legged horse of power and size, yet it makes it very
difficult for mak a borne to reach the ground with ha
mouth, his bead being so far from it when erect. Cons
sequently the strain upon those mainapringe in the
bunter—the legs. Our main objection, however, to
tuning hunters out to grass is not so mock on account
of their legs and feet—for without good legs and feet
borses get wonderfully well sometimes over • country
---but because it destroys their condition, that condition
-which is the half of them, and because it is impossible
to restore it in tione to enable the animal to take the
'field again with &arty to his rider and with credit to
both of them. Go into a clever postmaster's stable,
and see the eondition of the five, six, or seven years,
hard meat horse, with • skin as fine as a raoe-horee, ex-
moored to all weathers, worked hard every day, played
all sores or tricks, or When all sorts of liberties with,
and they not only bear it all with impunity, but thrive
sunderlehe system. Let us ask what enables these hard-
'walked, ever-workiag animals, to do their work, and
'threes under it thus? Is it their physical strength? Is
at %he peoularity of their breed, or the goodnees of their
mature? No; it is neither. No; it is solely Condition,
iehe hard swat of years which they have got in them.
To this they own that consolidation of flesh, that in-
vigoration of muscle, that stimulus to their nature,
which give them, as it were, a sort of preternatural
power, inasmuch as but for that stimulus, they would
never be able to peoform more than half of what we see
them do. Geed *eh is strength In • hone; badjlesk is
incapscity. A bad animal, in good flesh, is almost equal
to a good animal in bad flesh. However, all the
talking is the world about condition of horses is of no
avail without a good stable and good stable manage-
meat. It isamaxim as old as Hippocrates himself, and ,
alder for all we know, that food should be proportioned
to labour. Diet, therefore, is a most essential point to
be attended to in promoting sad preserving the con-
dition of a horse; for as ever:matures is the cure, re-
pletion is the cause el the disease. Horses in • state of
-nature are subject to few disorders. They contract
no disease from seseasonable indulgence or inordinate
revellkags; the pare stream theirdrink, the simple herb
their repeat; neither ears discern their sleep, nor
passion inflames their rest. Happy brutes ! How
happy could we be with either! Who does not envy the
primitive horse? The horse in a state of nature. We
do verily envy him. A groom', great duty is to see his
charge does not become foul; that his blood be not
'vitiated, or his system over-excited, or if so, find a
remedy at once. We all know that the blood is the
mainspring of life, and it is to the viscid and unhealthy
state of it that this fuMeas of habit is to be attributed;
but domot imagine, good reader, that high keep and
warm stables are alone to bear the blame. No ; the
derangement of this vital fluid is more often occasioned
'by poor, had living, than by good. But the treatment in
the one case is very different to the other, and in the
latter is touch more difficult to suMeed M. In the
progress of human life, indeed, we may venture to
„assert that for one case of disease arising solely from
aeneroas living, fifty may be traind to the want of it.
'intemperance is nowhere to be commended' but "air,
axerches, and good nourishment (said Sir Ashley Cooper
on sae occasion,) are the great points to be attended tom
Ilse preservation of health." "There is no other specific,
Mid& he," for the cure of this disorder, (he was lecturing
vet scrofula) and he who says there is, attempts to gull
mankind by the assertion of what is not true." For
our own part, we have known many water drinkers,
' but we never found out that they lived longer than wine
dshikeya provided the latter kept within the bounds of
moderation, and followed the sports of the field, or be-
longed to a rifle 'corps, and behaved well, and did plenty
oi drill.. "Drink no longer water, but use a little wine
for thy stomach's (liver's) sake," said Paul in his regerd
for his dear friend Timothy. We see in vision a tee-
total votary with the whites of his eyes out, and • re-
buking flush over his cheek. Toget• smile out of him,
we will tell him a capital 'ancedote of the late Chief-
Justice Mansfield, (not Manfield ; pray don't mistake
the men.) Probably with a view to prolong Lis own
days, he was always anxious, when old witnesses were in
chart, to knew their customary habits of life. It so
happened that two very old men by the name of Ala,
were One day the object of his inquiry, "You are a
very old man," said his lordship to the elder brother
" I suppose you have lived a 'very temperate life?"
" Never 'drank anything but water, my lord," said Mr.
lam "Nor you either I suppose," said the judge,
addreseing himself to the younger brother. "When I
could get 'nothing else, aiy lord," was the reply. "I
always toot my glass frith my friend. Moistened the
soil round tke old tree, my lord." "Well then," re-
joineifbis lordship with a pleasant laugh, "all that we
CAD Jay is, an elm will flourish wet or dry."
(To be eattintied.)