SHoaiNG. 245 



charging its allotted functions — both as a cushion and as an expander it 

 is a dead failure; indeed, it is worse, as in its altered character it is now 

 a menace instead of a protection, a bane rather than a boon to the foot 

 that wears it. 



The destruction of this important factor having been thus accomplished 

 the operator probably next turns his attention to the sole, which, by all 

 traditions of the craft, must be pared down until only a thin film of soft, 

 partially formed horn is left to protect the living structures within 

 against injury from the substances with which the foot necessarily comes 

 in contact. Nor does the mischief stop here. The sole itself, or what 

 is left of it, consists now of soft, moist, half-formed horn, which dries 

 and skrinks on exposure to the air, and thereby entails a further and a 

 still more serious injury on the foot. 



There seems to be a fascination about this work of destruction, and 

 the incompetent workman next addresses himself to the self-imposed 

 task of improving upon nature by removing the bars and what he calls 

 "opening" the heels, a process which, in plain language, means opening 

 a road for them to close over. On this poor, maimed foot a shoe, often 

 many sizes too small, is tacked, and the rasp is most likely called into 

 requisition to reduce the foot to fit the shoe; for although it is appar- 

 ently of little moment whether the shoe fits the foot, it is indisputably 

 necessary that the foot should, somehow or other, be got to fit the shoe, 

 and horseshoeing, like other arts, must needs sacrifice on the altar of 

 appearances. It is sad that art and nature should so often be at vari- 

 ance, and that what satisfies the one should outrage the demands of the 

 other. 



The foot is now shod and protected from undue wear, to be sure, but 

 at what a sacrifice ! Robbed of its cushion, its natural expander; its 

 lateral braces removed; its sole mangled and its natural repair arrested; 

 the hair-like fibers which make up the horny wall crushed, deflected, 

 and their nutritive function impeded by an unnecessarj' number of nails; 

 robbed by the rasp of its cordial layer of natural varnish, which retains 

 the moisture secreted by the economy, the strong walls become dry and 

 weakened, and the foot is in a very sorry plight indeed. To some this 

 picture may seem overdrawn, but it is ne\'ertheless a matter of daily 

 occurrence. 



Of course, even among agricultural horses, there are individuals which 

 can not work unshod; but these are exceptional cases. Then again, in 

 winter, when the usual snowfall is wanting, most horses' feet will re- 



