VICIOUS HORSFS. 
163 
ney’s end, if his driver knows what he is about. The horse, we 
will say, after going a mile or two, begins to find his mouth not so 
sensitive as at first,—so he pulls a little stronger : here half, and 
more, drivers would pull the stronger at him, so they each take 
“ a long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull” both “ together.” The 
horse increases his pull,—so does the driver; then the horse begins 
a determined pull and “ sets his jaw;” the driver places his feet 
more forward, and his hands also, and probably likewise sets his 
jaw, or makes some such face indicative of the exertion he is using. 
It’s all up now; the mouth has got so dead, that it no more feels 
the bit than his hoof would, and away he goes. This may have 
all proceeded from high mettle only: had his mouth been kept 
alive, he would have been kept to a proper pace; he was allowed 
to increase it—his blood then got up, and then, and not till then, 
he set-to in earnest, and from that time certainly determined on 
going off, and with such a driver, or a man with such hands, would 
always do the same thing. 
A light hand will hold a horse when a stronger arm cannot, for 
this reason,—he will not let the horse pull at him; just as an ex¬ 
pert fisherman will hold a large fish with a single hair. I could 
perhaps hold a stubborn pig with a rope in his mouth as well as 
Isaak Walton; but if I had twenty trout at the end of my line, 
they would all break away from me as the horse would do from the 
driver I have described. Why ] Because I am a muff with a 
rod in my hand, as the other is with a pair of reins in his. 
Running away when ridden is a propensity somewhat more dif¬ 
ficult to account for than when done with a carriage behind the 
animal, for here fright from the vehicle cannot be brought in ex¬ 
tenuation of the act; but fear or dislike of the rider may, and, if so, 
it may not proceed from vicious disposition. The horse has pro¬ 
bably got rid of his burden on some former occasion by this 
manoeuvre, so with this intent he tries it again. But why does he 
so dislike a rider 1 No doubt from having suffered by one. Here, 
as in driving, “ hands ” and a proper bit are the only remedies. 
REARING. 
This is unquestionably the most dangerous vice a horse can 
have ; it is a truly awful one, for it renders the rider helpless. No 
hands, no horsemanship, can keep a determined rearer down : a bit 
for the purpose will check most horses, and entirely frustrate and 
eventually cure others, but without one the best of riders is com¬ 
pletely foiled by a rearer. Horses are cunning enough to know 
it, and this knowledge makes it so difficult, and often impossible, 
to break them of the habit. The closer the rider sits, the higher 
