488 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
March 24. 
under the vent of any of the birds get clogged up or matted 
together with dung, they .should be carefully cut off with a 
pair of scissors. Should any of the birds show sj-mptoms 
of illness, by the combs or wattles turning pale, such should 
be immediately killed. Vegetables at any time would be 
a treat, and prove highly conducive to the health and well¬ 
being of the stock.—lil. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER'S PONY. 
{Continued from 440.) 
I siiori.D recommend the cottage gardener to try a pony 
of one of the wild native breeds ; say a little stout iron- 
gre^', dun, or brown nag, of Scotch, "Welch, or oven Irish 
blood. Hut little care has been bestowed on the bringing- 
up of such animals; they possess a certain hardiness of 
constitution indispensable where there is no convenient 
arrangement for ministering to the minutest details of stable 
mysteries. "Which of us but has admired the hardy little 
car horse, when pleasantly posting from one place to another 
among the picturesque hills and valleys and waters of the 
North. The little animal is not, perhaps, very fast; his 
paces not the most regular; and his tout ensemble is any¬ 
thing but imposing ; yet what loads he takes; what distances 
he travels ! About home, too, our own butcher appears all 
but ubi(iuitous ; whenever we ride out we meet him mounted 
on his Scotch pony; and he often passes us at a truly 
enviable pace. Or if we meet not the butcher, wo meet his 
well-loaded cart, and behold the same pony quietly dodging 
from one house to another—the model of patience and en¬ 
durance. Now, tho whole of this class of horses contrive 
to get through a great deal of work, and with but a very 
moderate degree of care bestowed on their toilette; and 
they often last very many years. The fact is, their owners 
very seldom allow them to lose the instinctive faculty of 
taking care of themselves. 
The pony should be of a cheerful temper, and tractable. 
A good animal physiognomist must .judge of his moral 
character by looking at his ears, which should be set on 
wide apart, constantly in motion, but not inclined to lay 
back ; by the eye, which should be bright, animated, not 
showing much of tlie white. The play of the nostrils and 
lips, and the very switch of the tail, convey a meaning. In 
fact, it is not the mere outward configuration of the parts ; 
1 it is their motions, indicating the sort of spirit within, that 
we should attend to. But, besides the colour and cast of 
! countenance of our new acquaintance, there are certain 
! other points not so easy to explain ;—as an ample chest; a 
short, thick carcass, well ribbed up to the haunch ; a neck, 
if not very long, yet well set on; shoulders not too upright; 
clean, fiat, deep, short legs, joined by well-knit, if not very 
lengtliy pasteras, to hard, unbroken feet. Again—it is the 
action, as it is called, or the style in which the beast lifts his 
feet, and the fearless manner in which he puts them down 
upon tlie ground, like a Briton ; it is his natural deportment, 
in a word, that must be our guide upon the whole. 
The coloirr of the skin is not of so little importance as is 
implied by the proverb, which says—“A good horse is never 
of a bad colour." The functions of the skin are not half as 
well considered, either in man or beast, as they ought to be. 
Tlie skin is at one and the same time a provision of 
defence against external agents, and a highly sensitive 
surface, or a means of receiving external impressions. A 
pachydermatous animal is simply a thick-skinned brute, a 
mere donkey, pig, or a rhinoceros. Conversely, to be thin- 
skinned, means to be of superlatively sensitive nature and 
refined feelings. Tliese are the extremes of the two func¬ 
tions which I have to attempt to distinguish. But even the 
hides of pigs, especially of the better families and blood, 
can be carried into a sort of fineness; and the ass and 
mule, in genial climates, and under partial masters, acquire 
higher susceptibilities, better natures, finer skins. 
Domestication, also, in cold climates, along with the in¬ 
troduction of high-bred races, natives of the East, and arti¬ 
ficial appliances for doing away with the necessity for 
trusting altogether to the powers of resistance of the skin, 
must impair those powers, at the same time that the other 
function or sensitiveness is greatly increased. Along with 
this alteration in the skiu (which it may take many gene¬ 
rations to effect), the whole system seems to put on a new 
character, and the aiiimal to acquire new susceptibilities, 
and to become, what we call, improved, or the breed 
becomes improved. Tliis improveableness, probably, has 
its limits. Impaired ppwers of resistance to the alternations 
of heat and cold, wet and dry, feverishness, sickness, pre¬ 
mature decay, coughs, and unsoundness ; tliese eidls, or if 
not these, at least an increased liability to them, are the 
price we pay for a high state of physical civilization—a 
highly artificial mode of life. It is just the highly artificial 
habit of life to which our very best horses are condemned, 
tliat necessitates all the over care that is taken to keep them 
“ all right.” Our rich bays, richer greys, light chestnuts, jet 
blacks, are, in general, fine - skinned ; they require more 
clothing, grooming, and care, and will repay it bettor than 
the iron-grey, the dun or fallow, the brown or dark chesnut, 
which seem to take less harm under inditferent grooming, 
and seem to almost require a certain amount of exposure 
out-of-doors to keep them in health. 
The pure native breeds of horses are but little subject to 
inborn unsoundness; should your “pony” be young, and 
should he exhibit no outward signs of previous ill irsage, 
you may make your mind comparatively easy about ring¬ 
bones, spavins, splints, thorough pin, curb, windgalls, Ac. 
These ai-e neither more nor less than enlargements about 
the joints of the legs, or about the tendons, bony ex- 
cresences at or near the joints, or on the main bones 
between the joints. As a general rule, you should see that 
one joint is no bigger than the other, nor one leg enlarged 
where the other is not, nor graced by bumps or protu¬ 
berances peculiar to itself. I have before me a fancy sketch 
of a horse, with every one of these blemishes on his legs 
duly marked with a number referring to an explanatory 
list; and the major part of them I have more intimately 
known on some one or other of the legs of some one or 
other of my own horses, or those of my particular friends. 
I believe them to be oftenest hereditary in the high- 
blooded horse, though most easily acquired in the pony 
through a course of stable management uncongenial to liis 
natural genius, and the habits of his race. You may easily 
make him unsound by driving or riding him too fast atrd too 
far; by denying him even the liberty of a loose box; by 
never turning him out to grass winter or sumnrer; all which 
freaks you may play upon a blood horse with comparative 
irrrpirnity, if onljq at a great price, you have procured a 
perfectly sound one to begin with. For orre sound high¬ 
bred horse sold by the farmer for the Lorrdon market, how 
marry blemished and unlikely tits does he not rear ? There 
are few lotteries where there are so many blanks ; and, jirst 
to follow the firre horse in his Loirdorr career, or in the 
stables of the mighty of the land, everything is under 
artificial control—water, exercise, cooling mashes, stimu¬ 
lating cordials, hay, oats, warmth, air, his natural skirr de¬ 
prived of its hair, and protected by clothing, hoods for the 
head, bandages for the legs, his wind as anxiously looked 
to as the voice of an opera singer, and his skin cai’ed for 
like the complexion of a fair lady. This system has un¬ 
doubtedly brought some of our very best horses to an 
unrivalled perfection, but it all implies a thorough insight 
into certain stable mysteries, which very few grooms 
possess, though all confidently pretend to it—one result of 
which is, that many a horse which might last twelve or 
twenty years, with care, is often entirely spoilt in two. 
The reward of success is, that the animal can put forth his 
every power at once, and keep up a continued and sustained 
exertion for miles together, even when there is no sort of 
occasion for such trials. A dangerous accomplishment, I 
think, not worth half the trouble it costs; but if gentlemen 
will take their ideas about horses from grooms, and about 
their carriages from coach-builders, they will have to pay 
for it.—ViBOYOR. 
{To be continued.) 
SWEET CIDER MAKING. 
As you have applied to mo for the mode in which our 
Sweet Cider is produced, to the quality of which you have 
borne testimony, I have the greatest pleasure in acceding 
