THE STABLE 79 



started with surprise, mingled with some alarm and 

 bewilderment ? 



Well, then, we have often seen this very thing done to 

 an unfortunate horse. Confined for hours in a stable, with 

 just so much light as will suffice to render the outlines of 

 objects visible after the eye has fully adapted itself to the 

 gloom ; the principal aperture for the admission of light — 

 the door — is suddenly opened, the groom enters, and the 

 coach-horse or hackney is led forth to be dressed. The 

 horse is, for a few seconds, nearly blind, and painfully so. 

 He strikes his haunch or stifle against the bar or the door- 

 post, and instantly is sworn at for his awkwardness ; next 

 moment he starts from nervousness at the approach of 

 some, to him, indistinct object, and he is pronounced a 

 " starter," " uneasy to groom," etc., etc. ; this character 

 established, he is, upon such occasions, in the absence of 

 the master's eye, treated to various little kicks and cuffs, 

 and sly knocks, with a running accompaniment of objurga- 

 tion. Can there be imagined a more efficient course of 

 education to produce " starting," a threatening or vicious 

 attitude, or any of the other abominable habits to which 

 imperfect vision and its attendant panic fear are calculated 

 to give rise ? 



Then, again, the darkness of the stable is, we need hardly 

 say, a cover for and a promoter of uncleanliness. A good 

 large glazed window or two in every middle-sized stable 

 would show the inattention or the neatness of the attendant. 

 Darkness also greatly encourages the fermentation of the 

 litter, and the evolution of the pungent ammonia so injurious 

 to the eyes of the horse, leading often to inflammation, 

 thence to blindness. 



If, on the other hand, the stable has plenty of light, 

 then the part of the wall which is opposite to the horse's 

 face, and which from either side throws its refracted rays on 

 the animal's eye, should not be of a glaring colour. The 

 reflection of a whitewashed wall, where, from its aspect, the 

 sun shines into a stable, is as injurious to the sight as the 

 sudden alternations of which we have just now spoken. 

 The stimulus is most mischievous, as the unfortunate animal 

 is so situate as to be unable to relieve itself by a glance over 

 a verdant landscape, or have the comforting sight of a 

 brown or drab road, rock, or common. Some time ago, 

 " ye ladye superiour " at one of the new-fangled abodes of 



