56 THE HORSE. 



throat. The horse immediately began to revive ; soon after got up ; 

 walked home, and gradually recovered. The sportsman may not always 

 be able to get this, but he may obtain a cordial-ball from the nearest 

 farrier, or he may beg a little ginger from some good house-wife, 

 and mix it with warm ale, or he may give the ale alone, or strength- 

 ened with a little rum or gin. When he gets home, or if he stops 

 at the first stable he finds, let the horse be put into the coolest place, and 

 then well clothed and diligently rubbed about the legs and belly. The 

 practice of putting the animal, thus distressed, into " a comfortable warm 

 stable," and excluding every breath of air, has destroyed many valuable 

 horses. 



We are now describing the very earliest treatment to be adopted, and before 

 it may be possible to call in an experienced practitioner. This stimulating^ 

 plan would be fatal twelve hours afterwards. It will, however, be the 

 wisest course, to commit the animal, the first moment it is practicable, to 

 the care of the veterinary surgeon, if such there be in the neighbourhood, 

 in whom confidence can be placed. 



The labours and the pleasures of the hunting season being passed, the 

 farmer makes little or no difference in the management of his untrained 

 horse ; but the wealthier sportsman is somewhat at a loss what to do with 

 his. It used to be thought, that when the animal had so long contributed, 

 sometimes voluntarily, and sometimes with a little compulsion, to the 

 enjoyment of his owner, he ought, for a few months, to be permitted to 

 seek his own amusement, in his own way ; and he was turned out for a 

 summer's run at grass. Fashion, which governs everything, and now and 

 then most cruelly and absurdly, has exercised her tyranny over this poor 

 quadruped. His field, where he could wander and gambol as he liked, is 

 changed to a loose box ; and the liberty in which he so evidently exulted, 

 to an hour's walking exercise daily. He is allowed vetches, or grass 

 occasionally, but from his box he stirs not, except for his dull morning's 

 round, until he is taken into training for the next winter's business. 



In this, however, as in most other things, there is a medium. There 

 are few horses who have not materially suffered in their legs and feet, 

 before the close of the hunting season. There is nothing so refreshing to 

 their feet as the damp coolness of the grass into which they are turned 

 in May; and nothing so calculated to remove every enlargement and 

 sprain, as the gentle exercise which the animal voluntarily takes while his 

 legs are exposed to the cooling process of evaporation, which is taking 

 place from the herbage he treads. The experience of ages has shewn, that 

 it is superior to all the embrocations and bandages of the most skilful 

 veterinarian. It is the renovating process of nature, where the art of man 

 fails. 



The spring grass is the best physic that can possibly be administered 

 to the horse. To a degree, which no artificial aperient or diuretic can attain, 

 it carries off every humour which may be lurking about the animal ; it fines 

 down the roundness of the legs ; and, except there be some bony en- 

 largement, restores them almost to their original form and strength. 

 When, however, the summer has thoroughly set in, the grass ceases to be 

 succulent, aperient, or medicinal ; the ground is no longer cool and moist, 

 at least during the day ; and a host of tormentors, in the shape of flies, 

 are, from sun-rise to sun-set, persecuting the poor animal. Running and 

 stamping to rid himself of his plagues, his feet are battered by the hard 

 ground, and he newly, and perhaps more severely, injures his legs. Kept 



