1891 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



(501 



.scone, and go around; but of course I could not 

 icll him this. So much had been going on dur- 

 ing the day that I had not had my usual after- 

 noon nap; and the Fourth of July dinner was 

 late, so I began to feel a very great hankering 

 for the privilege of laying my head on its ac- 

 customed pillow. This made' me somewhat im- 

 patient; and when Jack said to me. as plainly 

 as actions could say, that he was really afraid 

 to go further on that street. I grabbed the 

 whip and was going to give him to understand 

 that, when i said go ahead, I meant just ex- 

 actlv go (ihend and nothing else. Then I re- 

 membered my resolution. We were pi'etty near 

 the corner; but Jack could not understand, of 

 course, that I pi'oposed turning off at the corner. 

 He thought he had got to go past that volcano 

 of pyrotechnics. To nuike him go on to a point 

 that would lead us out of danger, I did use the 

 whip; but 1 am glad to tell you that I used it 

 lovingly. I did not give him a stroke more than 

 was necessary, nor did I strike even a fraction 

 hdrder than was really needed to get him up to 

 the point where he could see the turn. The^i it 

 'was worth something to see how he pricked up 

 his ears and started off, tired as he was, on a 

 brisk trot. He seemed to " catch on " all at 

 once, just how we were going to get home; and, 

 tired and weary as we both were, he fetched 

 around to his stable in fine style. Huber, Cad- 

 die. Constance, and mamma were wide awake 

 and full of the Fourth of July, but, like myself, 

 pretty tired. Something new in the way of 

 balloons attracted my attention until my wife 

 told me I had better take care of my horse and 

 go to bed. But when I went to lead him into 

 his stable, old Charlie, who has a fashion of 

 getting "cast" once in a while, was found to be 

 ■down and could not get up. At Hrst Mrs. Root 

 thought he did not breathe, and this got me a 

 little excited. As soon as I loosened his halter- 

 strap, however, and gave him a pull, up he 

 €ame on his feet, as sound as ever. Then tired 

 old Jack was unharnessed, and by that time I 

 began to discover that I was about on the last 

 point of nervous exhaustion. Oh how I did long 

 to lay my head on my pillow, and not stir, nor 

 heai" a sound nor a word from anybody! Why, 

 my friend, if sleep should fail me I should bi^ — 

 what? Well, I felt that night like — something 

 about half way between a walking skeleton 

 and a maniac. Do horses ever feel that way? 

 Yes. I am sure they do. 1 have seen them sway 

 about through overwork until they looked and 

 acted just as I felt. Suppose somebody had 

 whipped me at just that point, and tried to 

 make nu; go ahead and do more work. Well. 

 people do whip horses under just such circum- 

 stances. They whip them when thc^y are suf- 

 fering for food and perhaps for diink, when 

 they are exhausted to the last point of endur- 

 ance by long hours without rest. They whip 

 them until they do fall down and die. Now, if 

 you can realize and understand what it would 

 be to be whipped and pushed ahead under cir- 

 cumstances like these. I shall have accomplish- 

 ed the purpose of my little story to-day. "'A 

 merciful man regardeth the life of his bc^ast." 

 My friend, if you are a Christian, and I hope 

 yon are. you profess to be a merciful man; and 

 are you merciful to your beast? 



Before I close. I wish to tell you something 

 more about horses that I got from friend Terry. 

 I went all over the farm, and looked at every 

 thing— dug into the ground, climbed up on the 

 fences, look(;d over into the fields, etc. I looked 

 for thistles, docks, and other weeds along the 

 roadsides. I watched to see whether the horses 

 had steppc^d on his hills in turning around, es- 

 pecially as I saw the potatoes come up pretty 

 near the fences. To my surprise, the potatoes 

 were just as good, oi- even better, where the 



end of the row comes, as anywhere. Said I, 

 " Why, friend T., surely your planter does not 

 plant the potatoes clear up square and true to 

 the fence like this?" 



"Oh, no! We plant two or three hills by 

 hand." 



"Oh, yes! I see. But how does it come that 

 none of these hills at the ends of the rows have 

 been stepped on by turning the horse around ?" 



'■ Well, Mr. Root, it comes by having a horse 

 that knows better than to step on hills. Pie is, 

 perhaps, 18 years old, and has been at that 

 work all his life." 



•'There, friend Terry, that is just such a 

 horse as I want. I would give almost any 

 thing for one." 



" Why, friend Root, you have one already. 

 Almost any horse can be taught to do it. The 

 point is, with the driver. More hills are stepped 

 on by the driver yanking or scolding the horse 

 until he is so worried he can not attend to his 

 work, than any horse steps on of himself. 

 Teach the horse kindly what is wanted, then 

 let him manage it alone by himself, and he will 

 keep off the potatoes." 



"Now, look here, friend Terry; I have often 

 suggested that an old gentle horse should lie 

 driven without lines entirely. Why not omit 

 the lines, and then the driver could not yank 

 him. even if he would?" 



" Well, you can omit the lines if you choose. 

 In fact, I have seen it done a good many times. 

 But a line properly used is a help, both to the 

 horse and to the driver. You see, a horse gets 

 so used to the regular routine that he will turn 

 around of himself, and go back on the next row 

 without a word; and when, for some reason or 

 other, we wish to stop work, or to woik in a dif- 

 ferent way, a line helps to indicate what you 

 want him to do. I should prefer to have the 

 lines, but use them only to direct the horse and 

 in a very gentle mannei'." 



After this talk I began thinking of how many 

 times I had been pained by seeing a good horse 

 worried, and made inefficient, by yanking and 

 scolding. Let me tell you what Ihave seen — 

 not. perhaps, at one time, but at different times. 

 Suppose it is Hubbard squashes we are culti- 

 vating. Strong thrifty plants are valuable, and 

 they are planted so far apart there is no diffi- 

 culty at all in turning so as to avoid injuring 

 them. At the end of the row the horse would 

 have turned aroiuid all right without hitting a 

 plant, especially as its leaves are. say. a foot 

 high. The driver, however, has his mind on 

 something else, until he thinks the horse is go- 

 ing to step on a plant. He yells at him, and 

 gives him a yank. The horse looks pained, for- 

 gets to notice his feet, and steps on the best 

 plant in the hill at the end of the row. Then 

 the di'iver yells, and calls him a fool, and yanks 

 him h.irder. He backs up and tramps on the 

 hill behind him, forgets all about the plants 

 and every thing else, and possibly thinks there 

 is no us<', trying to please, and so he finally steps 

 on another hill. After a while they get started 

 again. The driver has been desired to swing 

 the cultivator up between the hills as much as 

 possible, as they are a good way apart, and pull 

 it out again before I'caching the next hill. 

 While doing this he forgets all about the horse, 

 and the horse steps on the leaves of another 

 ]jlant. The driver calls him an idiot, and gives 

 him another yank with the lines, and the poor 

 horse crosses' clear ovei' until he steps on a 

 hill on the other side. Now, I have seen nearly 

 as bad work as this in one afternoon; and I 

 have seen at least four or five different drivers 

 dosoj/ic of that kind of work. The horse gets 

 too near the row. The di-iver then loses his 

 temper a little, gives the horse a tremendous 

 yank on the other side, and pretty soon the 



