Early Days in Ireland. 3 



the kitchen on a voyage of discovery. I remember how I 

 yelled, and how my distracted mother, the nurse and maids, 

 with kisses and jam for my lips, and flour out of the dredger 

 for my blistered hands, strove to comfort me. Although I 

 have often repeated many other follies, I have never, since 

 that memorable morning, caught hold of the bars of a grate 

 in which the coals were burning. The punishment of the 

 disobedience came so quickly after the offence, that the very 

 sight of an old-time fireplace recalls to me the pain of burned 

 fingers. This was my first lesson in horse-breaking, and one 

 by which I have greatly profited ; for it admirably illustrated 

 the sound principle of rendering a rebellious horse amenable 

 to discipline, by making him connect in his mind the idea of 

 pain with that of disobedience. By it I have made many a 

 * difficult ' horse quiet to handle and ride. Baron de Curnieu. 

 in his Lemons Hippiques, tells us how the owner of a vicious 

 biter, acting on the same principle, cured the animal, when it 

 rushed open-mouthed at him, by presenting to it a hot leg 

 of roast mutton, which it grasped in its teeth, and accordingly 

 burned its gums and lips. Ever after, the horse seemed to 

 think that its master was red-hot ; for it made no further 

 attempt to devour him. Next to the kitchen, my favourite 

 place of resort was the stables. My pet groom used to put 

 me on the back of one of the horses, where I used to re- 

 main while he told me highly - coloured stories of hunting 

 and steeplechasing. Throughout the Muskerry country, 

 in which lay the little village of Ovens on the banks of the 

 river Bride, the only amusements of the gentlemen and farmers 

 were those in connection with horses. That fine old Irish 

 sporting family of Hawkes lived next to us. One of the 

 brothers, George, a one-armed man, used to hunt the Mus- 

 kerry hounds, and was considered one of the best men who 

 had ever crossed that big country which lies between Cork 

 and Macroom. He, like many of the old style, rode with a 

 loose rein, and trusted everything to the honour of his horse 

 to carry him safely. Needless to say that animals trained in 



