118 THE horse's rescue. 



was to cure li is horse for ten dollars. He v/as to pay 

 me for the feed while I had the liorse in mv care, or 

 furnish the feed, and he chose to furnish the feed. He 

 owned three farms. He told me if he continued to 

 have as good lack as he had had he would soon own 

 more. He came with the feed. It was a small jag of 

 wet wheat straw taken out of a stack half rotten — not 

 fit to bed a horse for me. I said nothing. This horse 

 was thin in flesh. I fed her well with good feed of 

 my own. She was so badly thrown off her base that 

 she could hardlv move or turn around on her forward 

 feet. She was quite natural on her hind feet. I told 

 him it was something of a task to get her back on her 

 base; it would take me about two weeks before he 

 could take her home. This is in the winter. I shod 

 horses in my shop days, and had these cripples in the 

 shop, soaking and preparing them for spreading their 

 feet, Kights I was in the barn or exercising these 

 horses. While changing them it affects them. It 

 would set them howling worse to see these horses 

 while going through this change. It would put me in 

 danger of being mobbed ; if they did not do that it 

 would bother mc some about my work. I could do 

 better when they were all asleep. I had all I could 

 handle without being bothered. Night after night you 

 see a man in a barn with an overcoat on — cold winter 

 nights — heating water in the house, washing and rub- 

 bing these horses' legs ; sometimes in the street run- 

 ning with them ; sometimes driving ; sometimes riding 

 them. When you commence to change them tl^ere is 

 no stopping. Then you must go through. I had no 

 help; I had to do it all. I stood alone, iiearly all on 



