Those big-headed horses lived before men had invented 

 vehicles, nevertheless they were useful animals ; their mas- 

 ters ate them, and doubtless killed for their friends the fatted 

 colt. If we no longer eat horseflesh it is because we are 

 such good Christians. Like the unknown savages of the 

 stone age, our pagan Scandinavian ancestors, eight hundred 

 years ago, thought it the best of meat, and served it at the 

 feasts of Odin. Hence it became an abomination to the early 

 christian converts, who transmitted to us their religious pre- 

 judices ; and only of late years, and in certain parts of Eu- 

 rope, has it been added to the list of foods. 



The lesson goes slowly on. One after another, animals are 

 domesticated, and, at last, comes the discovery of agriculture 

 proper — the idea that a seed well planted and tended will 

 yield many fold, whereof a part may be kept for next season 

 and the rest may be eaten. The ruins of so-called lake dwell- 

 ings, covered for long ages with water, have revealed the be- 

 ginning of such culture in Europe. Among the charred piles 

 which once supported wooden cabins built in a lake, have 

 been found bones of oxen, dogs and goats ; and, beside them, 

 heaps of wheat and barley. No writing, monument or tradi- 

 tion remains to tell us who were these primitive tillers of the 

 soil who thus sought safety from enemies amid the waters. 

 By their implements, fished up in quantities from the bottom, 

 we know that some of them still maintained the good old fash- 

 ion of stone tools ; while others more ambitious were able to 

 cast instruments of bronze ; another lesson from Mother 

 Earth who yielded her copper and tin for the melting-pot. 



They were barbarians with the manners of barbarians ; 

 and it is safe to infer that women did all the field work, and 

 held undisputed possession of what the French call "the sa- 

 cred right to labor." The man goes into the Swiss forest, in- 



