The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1883-09-07
Cruelty to Animals.

| MS DeaSI- 1nlS prOFefD OF the WlSe
man, which, let us say, by the way, is
nearly always misquoted so as to wholly
destroy its significance. is well worthy
| OF our constant remembrance. Few
men realize their full duty to the ami
mails placed under their care, for while
these valuable, useful and docile beasts
are given to us for our use, they have
some rights which every man is bound
to respect. And one of these rights is
that they shall be used kindly, tenderly
even, and always justly and righteously.
In so using our animals we exercise a
virtue-and to be virtuous is our duty,
| for which we can claim no particular
credit-and this virtue is its own re-
ward, because it pays us very well in
deed to be good to our horses, cows and
other cattle Fer if a horse is kept
in robust health he will serve us TWEEN
ty-five or thirty years, faithfully to the
last. and our cows will yield us profit
for twenty years. But the average life
of these animals is not more than hall
these periods, shortened as it is by our
neglect and thoughtless want of care.
And just at this season, during the RIO
ors of the dog-days, with the torment Of
flies added to the distress of the heat, If
is very timely to think of what pain and
suffering we inflict upon our helpless
animals by our thoughtlessness.
For instance, just now there is O. wide
| spread alarm in places in respect TO that
terrible disease known as CHAMBERS, to
which horses are subject. Are we ex-
ercised because the wretched beasts suf-
fer untold agonies and perish miserably
! before their time? On the contrary we
are troubled lest we may lose the money
| the horse is worth, or perchance we
ourselves may become infected with the
| disorder and suffer ourselves. Few peo-
| pie think that this disease is caused by
neglect. But so it is, and if virtue paws,
a lapse from virtue is always a loss.
Chambers is produced by poisoning OF
the blood by foul air. Thousands OF
horses die of this poisoning, which takes
other forms of disease than this, and of
which no notice is taken; but when our
own safety is thought to be involved
then the public become excited. This
disease appears in crowded stables,
where foul air is breathed the whole
| night, and where animals wearied and
weakened by exhaustive labor take into
their lungs the hot, reeking, filthy air,
which is devoid of vitality, and instead
of resting and refreshing them, only
adds to their WEAKNESS and their weak
ness. The blood thus becomes poisoned
by the double influence of its own inn
purities, which the air is not able to re-
move, and by the filth with which it is
saturated. The foul products with
which the blood is loaded encourage the
growth and production of. myriads of
putrescent germs in it, and which feed
and grow upon its substance and in
crease with marvellous rapidity Then
the disease makes its appearance visibly
to us, and all the outward and alarm
ing symptoms of it are manifested. But
it is too late. The mischief is beyond
repair and death has claimed the miser-
able victim of our neglect.
In how many farm stables is this con-
dition of things repeated. In the green
valleys and breezy hills of Connecticut,
and on the broad prairies of Illinois,
where, if anywhere, the blessing of
pure, fresh air should be free for all
without STINT this foul disease has been
so rife DIS to cause public exciternent.
In the large cities, where the thirst for
wealth .overcomes the sense Of duty,
where animals are sacrificed for the
public convenience, and where the
crowded space forbids the proper ac-
commodation, the disease is not so great
a surprise, but it is painful to think that
the farms should become a prolific
source of it. Surely, farmers do not
know the truth of this matter or con-
slider their duty and profit in this re-
spect. Farm stables are too seldom
constructed with regard to the health
and comfort of their occupants. Even
the despised pig and the insignificant
hen deserve consideration, if only be-
cause the want of it is money out of
pocket. The horse and COW stables are
not roomy enough. We believe it
would be better and cheaper to have
these stables quite distinct from the
barns rather than crowded under or in
them. A horse requires one thousand
two hundred cubic feet of air space for
healthful respiration, and ample venti-
lation.besides. In the French cavalry
stables the horses used to have nine
hundred cubic feet of air space, and
there were ninety cases of CHAMBERS
in every one thousand horses. The
space was increased to one thousand
two hundred feet, and the disease de-
creased until the deaths dropped
to eleven in the one thousand.
1t is the same with regard to
cows and sheep. Pleuro-pneumonia oc-
ours naturally in such stables where the
fresh air of heaven has no room and no
opportunities to enter. So sheep be-
come diseased in close stables and foul
yards, while they will be healthfully
lodged on the top of dry knoll in a
field, in the fresh open air, even in the
winter. We find the very same effects
to occur with our own race, crowded in
close rooms, in houses surrounded with
impurities which poison the air.
Disease riots in the cities in the hot
weather, and even farm houses are not
free from the same evils in many cases.
Sanitary science is more closely studied
now than it was formerly. The death
rate in the population yearly grows
smaller. But not so with regard to our
cattle. With them diseases are more
prevalent than ever before. They are
a constant dread, and the newspapers
are filled with reports in regard to
them. Popular apprehension is
awakened, and it is good time for us
to consider this subject. No doubt as
farmers improve in circumstances, and
increase the number of their live stock
these become crowded for want of more
roomy quarters, and SO disease becomes
more frequent. But if it is remembered
that it is only the righteous man that is
merciful to his beast every right-think-
ing man will see that mercy and
justice are accorded to his animals, and
to secure their comfort will become his
bounden duty Henry Stea0art, IN N.
Y. Times.
Unwilling to Accuse.
An old negress tried hard to heed the