50 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER, 
April 21. 
Gelderd, Kendal. Third prize, Mr. Win. Ellison, Low Sizergh. The 
' whole class commended. 
DUCKS (Any other variety). 
First prize, Mr. Waugh, Warwick Bridge. Second prize, Mr. John 
! Pickthall, Mint House. Third prize, Mr. H. W. Heaton, Copley Wood, 
i Halifax. 
TURKEYS (Cock and one Hen). 
First prize, Mr, Rutt.lidge, Storth End. Second prize, Mr. Rowland 
Parker, Moss End. Third prize, Mr. George Banks, High Gale. 
GUINEA FOWL (Best Pair). 
First prize, Mr. R. A. Watson, Gilsliwaiterigg. Second prize, Mr. W. 
Ellison, jun., Low Sizergh. Third prize, Mr. John Pickthall, Mint 
House. 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER’S PONY. 
{Continued from page 488, vol. ix.) 
The amount of personal attention paid to our “ pony ” 
need hardly be more, and should assuredly not ho less than 
that bestowed on good plough horses on a well-managed 
farm ; for though I would not advise over-care, yet neglect, 
and slovenliness, and dirt, will never pay in keeping any 
domestic animal; pachydermatous or otherwise. A well- 
matched pair of likely young plough horses often make 
quite as comely an appearance as a pair in a gentleman’s 
carriage (and the best London carriage and Brougham 
horses serve a regular apprenticeship in the plough; the 
happiest and brightest portion of their existence ;), but the 
ploughman contrives to groom them completely, morning, 
noon, and night, in the intervals of a hard, long day’s 
labour; and they mostly lay out at nights in summer. An 
intelligent country servant, accustomed to the routine of 
farm stables, will not often disappoint your hopes of making 
him a groom, provided, always, that you and he do not 
entirely “ expel nature with the fork ” from out of the stable, 
or “ she will be back again continually upon you,” and with 
a vengeance, I can tell you that. It seems as if the half- 
domesticated life, which I have planned, were at one and the 
same time best for the half-hardy pony and for the cottage 
gardener too. 
The great battle with Caleb Balderstone is always within a 
week of the first party that lie has had to drive his master and 
mistress to, at some very aristocratic mansion in the neigh¬ 
bourhood. Sir John Phoorinand’s grooms; Lady de Llan- 
daugh’s coachman ; and the rest, have tempted him; well, 
if they have not beguiled the honest fellow altogether into 
the thirsting after that fatal knowledge which lias been the 
death of many a happy gardener in these our days, still, 
poor fellow, he has partaken of something bad enough, that 
is too plain; he is quite unsettled. Forgetting Diamond and 
Derby, the pair that he ploughed with for more seasons 
than one at Farmer Furrow’s, and were afterwards sold for 
15ft guineas, though never till then out of his hands; and 
the wonderful traditions of their subsequent rise in the 
world, till they got into the carriage of a Duke, who gave 
£oOO for them; forgetting all his antecedents, he has got 
an entire new set of ideas into his head. Let him run on a 
little. The substance of his present views comes to some- 
! thing like this,—he thinks his master should turn out like 
j other people—considers it the ruin of a harness-liorse to 
ever put him into a cart or plough; if he wants exercise, 
Caleb could easily ride him out for a couple of hours every 
morning (galloping races with the young, or standing by 
the half-hour to gossip with the old of his acquaintance, as 
I the case may be). Caleb thinks the loose-box system very 
untidy, and would have pony tied up by the head in a stall 
I all day long, that he may he ‘ handier to come about;’ is 
j sure that to be turned out to grass at night in summer is 
1 bad for tho wind; is sure that cow-dung and clay stopping 
1 is better for the feet than tho cool dewy ground ; but if the 
J pony must needs have grass, he, Caleb, considers there is a 
great deal of sense in the plan which Squire Fivebargate’s 
! man told him of, that is, to have the grass cut in the field, 
i and wheeled by the barrow-full into the stable, and the 
l manure harrowed back upon the land afterwards; the horse 
standing doing nothing all the time. Caleb thinks the 
stable should be a great deal hotter; and would nail up tho 
ventilator to save the trouble of regulating it (a feat actually 
accomplished by the intelligent servant of a certain country 
Local Board of Health in the very Board-room). Cow-dung 
might abate inflammation of the feet perhaps, but to prevent 
the legs swelling, he would swathe them every night in four 
nice flannel rollers. If the pony should cough, or be ill 
after all this care, here is an infallible recipe for keeping all 
right:— 
“ Alterative and Condition Powders for Horses, — Are 
strongly recommended for producing a beautiful smooth 
skin, and for bringing the horse into general good condition ; 
they give tone to the stomach, increase the appetite, and 
purge the blood from all gross impure humours ; they will 
be found of essential service for grease, swelled legs, coughs, 
and influenza.” Directions,—Give a table-spoonful two or 
three times a week. 
Caleb would have no objection to delegate most of the hard 
work in the cottage garden to “ a daitly workman,” as he 
calls him ; considering the position of ‘ valet de chambre and 
nnrsetender' to a pampered jade of Asia much fitter employ¬ 
ment for a responsible and rational being than the occu¬ 
pation of our first parents. It needs must be, that if you 
adopt the artificial system of horse-keeping, which is almost 
peculiar to this country; if you trust entirely to manage¬ 
ment, and allow nature no chance of remedying your own 
blunders or your groom’s, then, it needs must be, that your 
man should almost live in the stable, ready to anticipate the 
smallest want of his horse, and to detect the earliest pre¬ 
monitory symptom of inflammation, cough, strain, or lame¬ 
ness. In this lies the difference between the simple plough- 
boy and the crack groom. The one knows perfectly well, 
from experience, that moderate work and moderate speed, 
cooling diet along with plenty of good corn, cleanliness, cool 
air, and an occasional run out at grass, will keep his horse 
in vigorous health, and fit to take master creditably either 
to church or market. Whilst the accomplished jockey 
knows that he has to be on the look-out constantly for the 
slightest and earliest indications of a thousand ailments to 
which the high condition of his charge renders him con¬ 
stantly liable; and it is this dear-bought knowledge, this 
foresight, the sad result of previous experience, which makes 
him presume so confidently on his ability to bring his horse 
safely and triumphantly through, prolonged trials of his 
speed, endurance, and constitution. But once and again I 
must remonstrate, that the difference of a couple of miles 
per hour is not ordinarily of great moment to us cottage 
gardeners. It is no object to us to keep up the same un¬ 
broken pitiless pace, up hill and down, good road or bad, 
mile after mile, hour after hour, without stop or stay, like 
the unearthly steed in the old German ballad, “ Tramp, 
tramp, along the land they rode; Splash, splash, along the 
sea.” There never was but one end to a ride out of that 
description—an end sure to overtake steed and rider, master 
and man, soon or late. 
The story of Actseon eaten up by his own dogs is held by 
Oxford men to convey a warning against the ruinous expense 
of keeping a pack of hounds. Doubtless, the ballad above 
quoted was done into English by Sir Walter Scott to warn 
young people of the inevitable fate of all hard-riders. 
Animal muscular power is, in its nature, intermittent, and 
by no means constant. A horse, when he comes to a stiff 
hill, can put forth eight limes his average strength to over¬ 
come the obstacle; although neither whip nor spur, nor 
noble emulation, will send a steam-engine up an incline, 
however short, requiring eight times the engine’s ordinary 
power. But nature, conversely, requires rest after such 
unusual efforts ; to make extraordinary efforts, and to prolong 
them far beyond the natural limits wisely set upon the 
exercise of this valuable, and oft abused power, is the destiny 
of the trained and high-conditioned horse. Like most 
natural gifts, this one can be improved by education; and 
the secrets of training cannot be picked up by Caleb, or by 
any one else who does not devote all his attention to his 
subject, and who lias not the advantage of experienced in¬ 
structors. The principle is that of the ancient athlete who 
lifted a little calf every day till she became a full-grown cow. 
Exercise is mainly relied upon; the exertion which would 
carry the animal at the top of his speed for say half-a-mile, 
is prolonged, after daily practice, to three-quarters of a mile, 
at which it is continued till this can be accomplished with 
ease, when only it is permitted to extend the task again. 
Great patience and tact are required to discriminate between 
beneficial exertion and injurious fatigue. Exercise pro- 
