132 THE hoese's rescue. 



My experience had taught me it was rather dangerous 

 to tell a man his horse was stiff. It would hurt the 

 sale of him; and yet they were nearly all of them stiff 

 that had been shod — lame in a greater or less degree, 

 and they were in a worse condition in the Chemung 

 valley than in anyplace that lever had been in at that 

 time; and I heard as much horse talk as in any place. 

 They all claimed much knowledge of ihat noble ani- 

 mal. My ! is it not queer? It is so all over. I have 

 taken the pains to demonstrate that. 



Soon after I came in this town I was looking over 

 the stables. Tliere I can be found as quick as in any 

 place. You can see me in a horse doctor's stable, or 

 veterinarian, as they are sometimes called. . His name 

 was Hiram McConnell. It was Sundaj^ Hiram had 

 a little time that day He was caring for a horse 

 while his feet were soaking. He seemed like a clever 

 fellow. I talked with him some about his horse, which 

 was a trotter. He was called Billy Crawford. This 

 horse, I heard, cost Hiram eight hundred dollars. That 

 may be the truth, or it may not; folks can lie. That 

 matters not, for it will not cure these horees. I could 

 see Hiram had some unrest about his horse. I ven- 

 tured a few remarks. I told him he could not cure 

 him soaking his feet ; he was not working on the right 

 plan. 



Hiram, being rather a quiet fellow, took it all quietly 

 and kept on at his work. I looked over his stables 

 (he had the best in town) and walked away. This 

 horse had contracted feet. He had shoes on. His 

 feet needed cutting down at least one-third. It would 

 have helped very much. At the time I first looked at; 



