The free press., 1895-10-17
A TRUSTY ANIMAL.
Few Horses Are Vicious and
Tricky by Nature.
The FractiOuS Ones Made so by
Human Influence.

The man who, in one of the papers,
has protested against the agitation
against overhead checks, binders,
ETC., on horses, on the ground that
such guards are needed because "there
never was horse that would not play
mean trick on man if he could, !"
has simply made an exhibition of his
ignorance of horses. There are some
of us who fancy that we know horses
pretty we'll, and who have the absolute
knowledge of experience to sustain us
in the opinion that not only is q tricky
horse rare thing, but that it is in
ninety-nine cases out Of hundred
the product Of abuse. A thorough,
practical "horse man" once told the
writer that 80 fractious horse was al
ways made by fractious man." Tho
writer himself had the advantage, all
through his youth, of daily and con-
slant association with horses. Ev-
cry day of his life he rode
or drove horses, almost from infancy.
They were of several generations
and of all sorts. There were some
times six or eight in the paternal sta
BILE, and in all these years there was
but one horse which by any stretch
ing of terms could be called "tricky"
and there were extenuating circum-
stances in her case. The nature Of
the horse, as every real and intelll-
gent student of the horse knows, is
essentially honest, open and fof ID
ing. 1t is unrivaled among alamals
in this characteristic, except by GER
tain breeds of dogs. Even the honest
OK is capable of kick or thrust OF
the horn generally the result OF
ignorance or want of intelligence
rather than design at unexpected
moments, but the horse has no natural
propensity to any form of treachery.
The always we'll treated and trusted
horse may be depended upon.
Nevertheless, the horse is very apt
to reflect the characteristics of the
people he lives with or has lived with.
1t is safe to wager that vast major
ity of cases of thickness in horses
could be traced to human influence if
the history of the horses could only
be known.
Perhaps good deal of the writer s
personal love for horses is traceable
back to single incident of his early
childhood. At the age of six he once
mounted old Rosy, the term "old" at
that time being one of endearment,
for the mare was not as old as the
boy, to ride to q neighbours. The
mare was fat and sleek; so was the
boy; her back was so round that her
spine was little hollow instead of a
projection. On thit glossy round
back was no saddle, not even a banket.
The little fat boys short legs simply
stuck out into the air on either side.
The greater part of the journey had
been achieved and the boy and mare
we're returning homeward, when, in
going down slope, Rosy inadver-
tently began to trot, and the boy, hav-
ing no kind of anchorage, began to
slide forward upon the mares neck.
Upon that ho let go of the bride,
hugged the neck and screamed. Not
knowing quite what this performance
meant, Rosy continued to trot placidly
down the hill and the boy continued
to slide. Doubtless she thought it
was some new kind of boys play. At
last he slid clear over her head and
rolled upon the ground. The mare
must have eased the fall for him by
ducking her head slowly, and she GER
tainly kept her feet entirely clear Of
him. He simply rolled into the ditch
oy the side of the road, quite unhurt,
but boo-hooing Justify.
And then comes the pretty part of
the story. The young mare did not
go on ten steps after the small boy
rolled off her neck, but stopped,
turned back, came down to the scream
ing child, nosed him affectionately,
and, as he will swear to his dying day,
comforted him as best she could.
She showed him that the bride reins
were hanging down within his reach.
Under such an influence the boy of
six which is an age, it is scarcely
needful to say, when few Boston boys
are intrusted with the management oil