Year: 1868

The affection that horse shows for The hand


that caresses him often is very touching The
Jockeys prayer, as illustrated by the pencil OF


the artist is not all illusion, not mere poetic fam
cy for the attachment of the boy for the horse
with whom be is thrown in daily contact is fully
as strong as the attachment of the horse for the
boy. When the one stretches his young limbs
upon the bed of straw, drawing over them the
faded blanket, all his dreams are peopled with
horses galy caparsoned for the arena or freely
sporting in the bright sunshine, and the form OF
each horse bears a wonderful likeness 10 he steed
that greets him with neigh in the morning, but
now standing or quietly lying in his stall, dream
ing, perchance, of the lips that kissed him and
the hand that softly caressed him when the faint
twilight was deepening into the shadows OF
night. Why should not the horse dream as well
as the boy He is the boys idol and the boy is
his love Where memory exists, there, at least,
are the filaments of love, and love is the ethereal
god of airy vision.


Caesar never felt a stronger thrill Of honest
pride than the jockey feels when returning to the
weighing stand from victorious race. The horse
is one furnace of heat, the breathing heavy, the
step slow and labored but the jockey sits lightly
in the saddle, speaking words of encouragement
to the dropping steed, his face illumined by a
broad grin of pleasure, for none knows better
than he how gallantly, gamely, heroically the
horse struggled TO win the feeble tribute of ap-
plause from the multitude assembled in the grand
stand. He knows that the triumph has well nigh
exhausted for the moment the vital energies, but
be is we'll aware that tender hands will soon re-
ceive the weak, tottering victor, and that kind
attention will rapidly restore the wasted vigor.
Weak as the horse is, he seems to share in the
pride of his rider, for now and then he pricks up
his ears as if in response to some endearing phrase
| or lind Ruf W hon the saddle ia rpm0vp1
and bis head has been cooled with water, there
is world of affection in the Frightening eyes as
the whole brigade of stable boys gather around
him to assist in relieving him of his distress. He
has nod of recognition for each one will lay
his head upon this shoulder, then upon that, and
even is so much at home that he takes advantage
of all the privileges accorded 10 petted invalid.
Let any one closely watch such IL scene as this,
and if he ever has denied that there is bond OF
intelligent sympathy and ardent love between
mester and horse, he will not persist in the de-
niAl.


A few days ago we were told story by Mr..
Patterson, Of Philadelphia, which beautifully IL
Illustrates the mutual love between the yonng at
- liant and his horse. John had grown up in
. BILE, and for two years the glossy coated
- ughbred had been his constant care. lie had


ed him when a colt, and with pardona-


.de had watched the symmetrical growth
,.he,bcdy and the development of the hardy
muscular system. In the eyes of John there never,
Yves sach horse and possibly the horse thought
thar John was without counterpart in his way.
In Il paddock or in the stable they were devoted
to .ch other. Some days ago while the
thoroughbred was being groomed. in IA spirit of
~ fulness he nipped Johns bare arm with his
8 !. The next morning the arm was so swollen
- the boy had to carry it in a sling. The first
impression was that the teeth of the horse were
poisonous to the flesh of his young groom When
questioned about his swollen arm, John, with a
sickly smile, evaded direct answer rather than
charge his sufferings to the horse which long as
sociation had crowned as the idol of his affection.
He could not use the arm; consequently, the
thoroughbred had to be groomed by strange
hands. John, however, stood near, faint with
pain, to see that the work was we'll done. The
horse turned his head every few moments and
looked peadingly at the boy. At last he gave a
low whimper, and John approached his head.
The intelligent animal looked at his bandaged
arm, examined it carefully, tenderly, with his
nose, then with half sad movement laid his
head softly on the young shoulder, close to the
bright, warm cheek. 1t was as much as to say
ID am sorry forgive me !'' Though mute,
it was the language of eloquence to John. In his
joy he forgot his injury, and wildly throwing
both arms around the long, beautiful neck of
the docile steed, pressed him rapturously to his


heart. The mpulse was true but the effort was
too great With spasm of pain he released his


clasp and fell against the manager. The horse


looked pityingly into his eyes, then tendery
| licked his hands and face. 1t was a beautiful


picture of sympathy, sadness, suffering and love


and since that day Mr.. Patterson says that ht


has placed higher value on the horse. John


we must not forget to add, was rejoiced, ont


hour later, to hear the surgeon say that the


sw cling did not arise from the bite of the horse


but from some weeds, poisonous to the flesh


that he had handled on the morning he receiv


ed the slight wound.


Were we to observe scenes more closely thar


we do, there is no question but that we would


often be impressed with striking displays of af
fiction between man, and not only the horse, but


the whole of the dumb brute creation. Dumb


Why call them dumb, when their feelings are 81


strong, their courage so noble and their language


though mute, full of expression and eloquence
Ah they are not half SO british as some whit


pride themselves upon walking in the image o
their God nor so dumb, as far as pure affection


sound intelligence and lofty instincts are con


cerred, as thousands who hold it to be divin
right TO domineer over every animal that goe
upon all fours, and who bore polite ears will


blatant speech. THE Tarf, Field and Farm.