80 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[March, 
THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH -Rrom a Painting by R. Elmore, It. A. 
Engraved for the American Agriculturist. 
Man with the rugged sinews, man with the face of soot! 
Come forge for us a horseshoe, fit for Eclipse’s foot! 
The principal figure in the beautiful picture 
which our artist furnishes for this number of the 
Agriculturist, is a very important personage to 
those who have horses to be shod. “ No foot, 
no horse!” is a good old proverb, and the pres¬ 
ervation of good feet, or the improvement of 
bad ones, largely depends upon the skill and 
care of the Village Blacksmith. Those who 
cluster round his forge these raw nights, to gos¬ 
sip over the latest news of the war, may not 
think it, but the part the Blacksmith operates 
upon is a complex and cunning structure, ad¬ 
mirably adapted for its work, but liable to de¬ 
rangement and disease if neglected or improp¬ 
erly treated. As sure as the sparks fly upward, 
your horse, though he be worth five hundred 
dollars now, shall be lame, if he is long shod by 
an incompetent or careless Village Blacksmith. 
The latter is sometimes ignorant of the princi¬ 
ples which should guide him, and too often des¬ 
pises their application when informed of them. 
He will rasp and pare and hammer as if the foot 
were a mass of insensible horn, whereas it is a 
complicated elastic spring, with a cushion at¬ 
tached, to receive easily the weight of the horse. 
If this were not so, fancy the shock which every 
stroke of Mr. Bonner’s marvellous fast trotting 
mares must give to the j oints of the frame above. 
Instead of preserving this elasticity with the 
greatest care, the workmanship of our Village 
Blacksmith is too often calculated to impair and 
i destroy it. Hence inflammation of the interior 
I tissues, navicular disease, and the incurable 
lameness consequent upon it. If you do not 
know about the navicular bone, the hinge which 
holds the coffin and coronet bones together, 
we have not space here to describe its functions. 
See to it that your Village Blacksmith does not 
bind your horse’s heels to the rigid iron shoe so 
that they cannot expand when his weight comes 
upon the foot; for if he does, a contracted hoof 
and navicular lameless will follow. Sometimes 
there is hereditary predisposition to this. The 
stock of American Star need care in this matter. 
The famous English mare Cobweb inherited it 
from her sire, and though her own feet were 
very fine, she communicated it to her great son, 
Bay Middleton. He was a magnificent cripple 
at six years old, though he had been sold for 
$25,000. All the veterinary skill of England 
could not save him from incurable lameness. 
The Village Blacksmith commonly has an 
ideal as to what shape a horse’s foot should be, 
and he will twist and rasp the hoof to conform 
to it, if you will let him. Do not permit it, for 
the foot shod should be like the foot unshod, 
minus the iron which is to protect, not wrench 
and cramp it. They say that the devices of 
mantua-makers cause consumption and dyspep¬ 
sia among fine ladies, and the Village Black¬ 
smith will sometimes be guilty of corns, of 
pumiced sole, or of navicularthritis, if not 
watched. He must be induced to regard his 
business as a progressive science, not as a me¬ 
chanical operation which can not be improved. 
Insist upon it that he give the crust of the 
hoof at the heels a fair bearing upon the shoe. 
Limit him to five nails in the fore shoes, and 
seven behind, those on the inside to be well for¬ 
ward towards the toe. He will predict the loss 
of much iron, but regard him not. These nails 
are sufficient to keep the shoe on, and the inside 
quarter of the hoof being free, the heels expand 
naturally when the foot comes down in work. 
Our stalwart friend of the leather apron, too, 
may want to pare down the frog. Stop him! 
for if you do not, you will find, too late, that 
his knife has entered into your soul. This frog 
is the cushion, nature’s own buffer and fender, 
between the foot and the solid ground. Then, 
hearing you speak in favor of open heels, some 
Village Blacksmiths will cut away the sides of 
the bars. This will make the heels look open, 
but it is just like the application of cosmetics to 
the skin. Temporary looks are obtained at the 
expense of permanent injury. Forbid peremp¬ 
torily the burning of your horse’s foot with a 
red hot shoe to make it fit. It will render the 
hoof hard and brittle, liable to sand cracks, and 
so will too many nail holes. The shoe moder¬ 
ately hot may be held to the sole to mark the 
places to be pared—the knife must do the rest. 
Usually the Village Blacksmith is a man of 
worth and probity, and though a little opinion¬ 
ated sometimes, address on your part will in¬ 
duce him to follow the instructions of science, 
and take more care in the shoeing of your horse. 
