In the Stable, Field, and on the Road. 9 



Hitchm, which their owner considered a marvel of per- 

 fection. He had no doubt spent a large amount upon 

 them, and I am sure I never saw a more miserable 

 failure. The stables were lofty, with traps into the 

 small roof to let the hot air out, but the roof was 14 

 inches thick of thatch, and no air shaft to convey the foul 

 air through the root, consequently the air got in through 

 the false roof, and no further. The architect had 

 forgotten that pure air was required in the winter as 

 well as the summer, and there was no way of obtaining 

 it, only through the windows, which were high up, and 

 very small, close under the roof, giving no light into the 

 stable, and if they were open, threw a draught upon the 

 horses' backs. The doors were upon the sliding prin- 

 ciple, and when closed I could put my fingers between 

 the door and the door-post, making the draught enough 

 to turn a mill. The groom told me that when he went 

 into the stable the first thing in the morning the am- 

 monia was so strong that it brought tears from his eyes, 

 and almost choked him. This was called a first-class 

 stable — what a third-class one built by the same architect 

 and superintendent would be like I cannot guess. A 

 cold stable is not necessarily an unhealthy one, but it 

 is much better for the doors to be wide open than to fit 

 badly and cause great draught. Captain Hunt, who 

 used to keep a stud of horses at Great Bowden, near 

 Market Harborough, some years ago, always had his 

 stable doors wide open all weathers, and I never saw 

 horses look better in the field. His horses never cauorht 

 colds. Paddy Marr, a well-known groom of the old 

 school, used to take his horse to the river to drink every 



