282, FARCY. 
purchases to be dear bargains. It is terrible now to witness animals, in 
almost the last stage of a most debilitating malady, goaded through the 
public streets with cruel loads behind them. It is horrible, when we 
reflect that every citizen in a large town is, by the avarice of unscrupu- 
lous people, exposed to a most loathsome disease, and to a most tortur- 
ing death. 
FARCY. 
When the horse, which has been the pampered favorite in its youth, 
vrows old, it generally becomes the half-starved and over-worked drudge 
of some equally half-starved proprietor. In the fullness of its pride 
and the freshness of its strength, it had to canter under the airy burden 
of my lady’s figure. When the joints are stiff—when accident, disease, 
and sores, have rendered every movement painful; and when its energy 
is poorly fed upon the rankest provender—then the wretched animal is, 
THE OLD FAVORITE AND THE NEW PET. 
by the whip of a thoughtless hireling, forced to toil between the shafts 
of some creaking cart. It is sad to watch the vehicles on a London 
road, and speculate upon what has been the past fortune and will be the 
future fate of the animals which propel them! 
Farcy is peculiarly the lot of the poor man’s horse. It is the conse- 
quence of utter exhaustion. It is the horrid friend—the last and dread- 
ful rescuer of the thoroughly wretched. No one cause will produce it. 
To generate farcy, there must be a congregation of evils: the constitu- 
tion must be weakly ; the grooming must be neglected; the food must 
be stinted; the bed soiled; the dwelling small; the drainage bad; the 
master unfeeling, and the work excessive. All of these things, or so 
many of them as nature can endure, must exist before farcy can be 
generated. 
