father. " He's a spoiled child, sir." They
stroke and pat the colt together. I think,
as I look at them, that if ever I buy a few
thorough-breds, I could trust them very safely
in such kind and skilled hands.

The new method of horse-taming, so easy
and expeditious, is a great improvement on
the brutal old system of lunging, whipping,
and spurring a horse into obedience. "But,
sir," said the operator, "no gentleman should
try this game himself." And, indeed, it was
so amusing and pleasant, that it seemed more
like a " game " than a business. The
Expert went on to explain: Unless in hands
perfectly cool and experienced, nervous or ill-
tempered horses would be rendered by it
permanently cowardly and vicious, so that there
would be no future possibility of handling
them at all with security. Or, while
staggering about, in a confined space, on their
hind legs, would be nearly certain to
injure their hocks, and to throw out curbs.
Also, an unskilful operator would be almost
sure to come to signal grief himself. An
incautious shoulder might be very easily dislocated
by a determined plunger, or half the
bones of a rash adventurer's chest driven in;
and a rough colt's head brought suddenly in
contact with an enthusiast's teeth, might give
him much painful leisure for tardy reflection
while under the hands of the dentist. It is
prudent, therefore, thoroughly to master Mr.
Rarey's art before attempting to try issues
with so wilful an opponent as a cross-grained
colt. But this is to say no more than that
horse-taming is like every other business by
which men earn a livelihood. It requires a
long and painstaking apprenticeship before it
can be turned to any good account.

Presently a gentleman farmer comes in
with a colt to break. He, too, knows that
the price of wheat must soon fall far beneath
all English competition. He is anxious to
turn his attention in time to horse-breeding.
Nothing can promise better if he breeds fairly.
He will have only to give confidence to the London
dealers, and to prove to them that sire and
dam of every colt is of pure blood and sound
constitution, to select fashionable stock with sound
judgment and to feed liberally, to command his
own prices. London horse-dealers have always
more commissions on their hands, for blood cobs
and thorough-bred hackneys, than they are able
to execute, at any price. First-class horses will
fetch seven hundred pounds each, and can be
bred for one hundred and fifty. Cattle-farming
and horse-breeding are the only true safe investments
for British farmers, and those who cannot
manage to make it answer will have to give up
that trade, and find another—perhaps a worse
one. It must not be forgotten that, as horses
may now be broken without any injury whatever
to their legs, they may be sent into the
market at three years old, instead of four years:
a very important consideration to the breeder.
A three-year-old, if carefully trained and taught,
will do very well for light work, and cannot be
put at it too soon. He will make a far better
horse for a timid girl than a five-year old,
and may be then educated to do nearly
anything but talk. He could not, however,
have been broken even, without permanent
injury, under the old system. It is always
better, and, in the long run, cheaper (we still
borrow substantially from our intelligent farmer)
to breed first-class horses; for it costs
as much to rear a fiddle-headed, cat-hammed,
clumsy brute as it does to bring up a beauty
as fine as paint. Even a half-bred horse
resembles an article with the royal arms on base
metal. To get pure-bred horses it is always
necessary to go to the best blood, and there
are in England about three hundred blood
stallions whose services are to be got at prices
varying from five guineas to fifty. Perhaps
twenty guineas would be a handsome average
in the hands of a good judge of figure. The
brood mares to be bought at moderate prices
are very numerous. But it is right to say
that a great many thorough-bred horses die
before coming to maturity.

To struggle out of the pupil state to
which I was reduced by all this useful
knowledge poured out upon me, I here threw in a
little information of my own about prices.
Hacks of high character, in the right hands,
sell readily at figures varying from one
hundred and fifty to seven hundred pounds;
seldom below, still more seldom above those
sums. Park phaeton horses, well matched, and
stepping well together, produce from three
hundred to eight hundred pounds the pair;
single-harness horses of real quality range from
two hundred to seven hundred pounds each.
Hunters may be sold at fancy prices, from fifty
pounds to a thousand; but nothing of much
account, with character, under three or four
hundred, except for light weights, or cattle
with an "if and an" about them. A pair of
very large blood carriage-horses were recently
sold for two thousand guineas. It is useless
to quote the price of race- horses, which is
regulated by their engagements, and is as much a
speculative affair as was the price of tulip-roots
formerly in Holland. A " screw," not worth five
pounds off the turf, may be cheap at five thousand
upon it.

Such exceptional sums paid for horses of the
very highest class figure and fashion must not,
of course, be taken as the average price of
ordinary horses. That, strange to say, has
varied little, if at all, since the time of Solomon.
Two hundred years ago in England, common
country nags were worth from ten to fifteen
pounds, and that is still about their present
price at fairs and markets. Sir G. Carteret
(temp. Charles the Second) gave forty pounds
for a good hackney; a useful horse enough may
be now bought for the same sum. Pepys gave
fifty pounds for a pair of black carriage-horses;
ana doubtless a pair quite as good as the
awkward draught cattle of that day would not cost
more in ours.

Even our highest prices are by no means