60 MASSACHUSETTS AGRICULTURE. 



that between the circus-ring and agriculture. The horse, as an 

 instrument of industry and ordinary use, must possess qualities 

 quite the reverse of those which belong to the racer. To breed 

 for the plough, the cart, the carriage, requires attention to one 

 set of characteristics and form of training ; to breed and make 

 ready for the course calls for attention to a very different set. 

 In the degree in which a horse is fitted for the turf is he usually 

 unfitted for every other service. It is because horse-racing is 

 a popular amusement that it so easily engrafts itself on to the 

 fair, and becomes, by attracting the masses, a means of enlarg- 

 ing the income. Now we are not so crabbed that we object to 

 this simply because it gives pleasure ; so far we grant the ar- 

 gument is with those who sustain it. But let us look a little at 

 the later and less obvious results. The horse-race, once in, 

 easily lifts itself into popular favor ; begins to do the work that 

 was expected of it, and " draws." As the horse-race is doing 

 so much for the fair, more, it is thought, must be done for the 

 horse-race. An entire day is set apart to it. It is soon diffi- 

 cult to confine it in these limits, and gradually half the time 

 and three-fourths of the attention are given to it. It now 

 " draws finely." Premiums must be devoted to this captivating 

 and crowning feature, and the best horse carries off his hun- 

 dreds, while the best sheep and ox must content themselves 

 with a few dollars. An entire department, as crops or fruits, 

 will thus often receive less than is bestowed on this single form 

 of development, entirely foreign to agriculture. Pumpkins, 

 squashes and beets begin now to be a little dull, and boys and 

 men are running to see whether Jones' gray or Smith's bay is 

 ahead. The popular mind, not too full of ideas at the best, for- 

 getful of other considerations, is fevered by thir. ready-made 

 and respectable amusement. Every plough-boy begins to think 

 himself one of those 



" Charioteers, 

 Who, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink 

 With eager lips the wind of their own speed, 

 As if the thing they loved fled on before." 



The poor nag, stiffened by many a hard pull at the stone- 

 boat, who needs to be brought gently home and put kindly to 

 hay, is sent along the road at a pounding pace, as if there were 

 some speed in her which it were a siii not to get out before she 



