286 BRONCHITIS. 



leaving off meat would do more to cure bronchitis in man, than 



all the medicines in the world, and giving our stabled horses 



more turnips and less hay, would tend in the same direction. 



Dry clover hay is especially dangerous to the wind, and all fusty 



hay. The dust from fusty hay is probably drawn into the 



lung cells, and does direct mischief in that way. But eating a 



large quantity of bulky, innutritious material necessarily expands 



the bowels and other organs of nutrition, so that the lungs are 



fixed into too small a space, and are sure to suffer from the 



pressure. No gross feeding horse should have as much of any 



kind of hay as he will eat. The old fashioned, lymphatic, gummy 



legged horses were great sinners in this respect. Their owners 



were too often ignorant of turnips as horse feed, stingy with corn, 



and prodigal with hay, and as a consequence their horses were 



very often what they called " touched in the wind." This is 



in Britain broken wind, in America heaves. The latter term 



expresses the heaving, uneasy motion of the flank which 



characterises the disease. 



701. — One of the most beautiful sights ever seen under the 



microscope is the lungs of the beautiful toad. The lungs of the 



horse can only be understood at all by seeing a portion of them 



under a microscoiie, and even so it is impossible to comprehend 



their extremely delicate texture, or how so many millions of 



invisible tubes can be formed and sustained in such a small 



compass. liVery particle of blood in the horse's body comes 



several hundred times a day into these' invisible tubes to meet 



the air that is breathed into adjoining invisible tubes. The blood 



a,ud air do not mingle together, and yet the invisible membrane 



that separates them is so inconceivably slender that the oxygen 



of the air can pass through it to the blood, and the carbonic 



acid gas of the blood can pass through it to the air. Dr. "Watts 



<3id not know all this when he wrote — 



'• strange that a harji of thousand strings, 

 Should keep in tune so long." 



Here is a harp not with a " thousand strings," but with millions 

 ■of invisible yet perfect tubes, each one actually carrying its 

 modicum of blood, or air, and exchanging a part of both, 



