SUMMER [Chap 



and, every day of his life the horse gets worse and 

 worse, comes nearer and nearer to the day when 

 his body, f^kin and all, must be sold for twenty or 

 thirty shillings ; and, during the four years which 

 I have here supposed an ox might be advan- 

 tageously kept at work, the horse will have cost, 

 on an average, an additional five pounds at the 

 least, for the blacksmith and the farrier, to 

 say nothing here about the great difference in 

 the four years' costs of food. At last, if from 

 the age of the ox, or from any other circumstance, 

 it be desirable to fat him, he may bring you one- 

 third more than his first cost, if not double the 

 amount of it. In the case of selling off the 

 stock of a farm, horses are a mere drug, if they 

 be old or out of condition ; but an ox will, either 

 for working or fatting, always sell for his worth. 

 He is something to be eaten, and has an intrinsic 

 value, not at all depending upon adventitious 

 circumstances, or upon taste or opinion. There is 

 no question as to his soundness, no '^warranty ;^' 

 no roguish jockey here to come into play. There 

 is one thing indeed, which the mention of the 

 " warranty," here reminds me of; and that is, the 

 dreadful falling off, which the general use of 

 oxen would occa.sion in the practice of the Courts 

 of Law. Our ears are constantly filled with the 

 accounts of horse-causes ; but, whoever heard of 

 an ox-cause? The ox is the natural assistant of 



