author's experience. 311 



necked, ring-bone mare that showed more marks of the stable 

 than of the currycomb and brush, and that took the wagon by 

 jerks along the road, I always pictured to myself the establish- 

 ment from which that pair came forth. 



When I saw the village doctor jogging about with rusty 

 harness, dilapidated vehicle and melancholy horse, I drew my 

 own inference and instituted a comparison at once between this 

 man and his rival, who, without ostentation, kept his equipage 

 in order and drove a well-selected, well-fed, and well-groomed 

 horse ; and had I at that time eaten enough of green apples or 

 of my neighbor's watermelons to have required the services of a 

 doctor, I should most earnestly have appealed for a visit from 

 the one driving that best-looking and best-cared-for horse. 



Every experienced horseman knows that an animal will be 

 one thing in the hands of one driver and something entirely 

 different in the hands of another. Hiram "Woodruff could give 

 new strength the instant he took the reins and Kipton and 

 Dexter were inspired with new energy by his touch. Is not 

 this sagacity ? 



A horse knows what he is doing and with whom he is deal- 

 ing, and having learned his lesson it becomes as much a part of 

 him as to be his second nature. 



Some quite remarkable cases of sagacity exhibited by my 

 own horses are as follows : In 1851 I was the owner of a gray 

 Canadian horse having the old-fashioned name of Dobbin. He 

 was not only a good, honest horse, but showed much intelli- 

 gence in many things. Among others, being driven to the vil- 

 lage — Wakefield, K. I. — on entering the town he would, with 

 head and tail erect, voluntarily exhibit all the speed there was 

 in him, and seemed to take great delight in making as much 

 show as possible when before an audience of street pedestrians, 

 but he became quite a commonplace horse when fairly out of 

 town. 



In the autumn of 1855 I was the owner of a very high- 

 spirited, Vermont Morgan, chestnut mare answering to the 

 name of Nellie Bly. She had not only run away several times 



