340 THE SCAB. 



The sheep lahoring under the scab is exceedingly restless. 

 It rubs itself with violence against trees, stones, fences, &c. 

 It scratches itself with its feet, and bites its sores and tears 

 off its wool with its teeth. As the pustules are broken, their 

 matter escapes, and forms scabs covering red, inflamed sores. 

 The sores constantly extend, increasing the misery of the 

 tortured animal. If unrelieved, it pines away and soon 

 perishes. 



I have never had an opportunity to observe the post- 

 mortem appearances. Mr. Youatt says : 



"The post-mortem appearances are very uncertain and 

 inconclusive. There is generally chronic inflammation of the 

 intestines, with the presence of a great number of worms. 

 The liver is occasionally schirrous, and the spleen enlarged; 

 and there are frequently serous effusions in the belly, and 

 sometimes in the chest. There has been evident sympathy 

 between the digestive and the cutaneous systems." 



Twenty-seven years smce, I purchased one hundred and fifty 

 fine-wooled sheep just driven into the county from a consider- 

 able distance. I placed them on a farm then owned by me, 

 in another town, and did not see them for about three weeks. 

 One of my men then reported to me that the sheep were amiss 

 — that they were shedding off their wool — that sore spots 

 were beginning to show on them — and that they rubbed them- 

 selves against the fence-corners, &c. Though I had never 

 seen the scab, I took it for granted that this was the disease. 

 Jto time was to be lost, as I had seven hundred other sheep 

 on the farm — though fortunately, thus far, the new comers 

 had been kept entirely separate from them. Barely looking 

 into Mr. Livingston's work for a remedy, I provided myself 

 with an ample supply of tobacco and set out. The sheep had 

 been shorn, and their backs were covered with scabs and 

 sores. They evidently had the scab. I had a large potash 

 kettle sunk partly in the ground as an extempore vat, and an 

 unweighed quantity of tobacco put to boiling in several other 

 kettles. The only care was to have enough of the decoction, 

 as it was rapidly wasted, and to have it strong enough. A 

 little spirits of turpentine was occasionally thrown on the 

 decoction, say to every third or fourth sheep dipped. It was 

 necessary to use it sparingly, as, not mixing with the fluid 

 and floating on the surface, too much of it otherwise came in 

 contact with the sheep. Not attending to this at first, two 

 or three of the sheep were thrown into great agony, and 

 appeared to be on the point of dying. I had each sheep 



