Innumerable horses go blind from the bad
drainage of their stables, in consequence of
the vapour of ammonia which is generated
from stagnant stable refuse. Even a greater
number of horses become broken-winded
from defective ventilation:—bad air ruining
their lungs. Grooms have an idea, that by
keeping their cattle swathed up in hot
clothes they get good coats. The practice
should be discouraged. Care should be
taken to keep the stable at a healthy
moderate temperature, however, and if in a
cold situation this should be done by artificial
means. A groom should never be allowed
to clean his horses in the stable; this is
a common reason of horses leaving their
food: it gets impregnated with the dust
and scurf of the curry-comb and the brush,
and becomes, indeed, uneatable. Few grooms
either seem to have a proper idea of the use
of water. Whenever a horse is washed, the
groom should never leave him until every hair
is dry. As you cannot expect the ostlers at
inns to do this unless you look over them, I
never allow my horses' legs to be washed
anywhere but at home. The hoof may be brushed
out and washed as much as they like: that
will dry again; but no ostler shall ever wet a
hair of a horse of mine if I know it.

With proper management, however, water
is invaluable after hunting; I generally have
my horses' legs put into a regular bath (made
on purpose) full of hot water, then dried and
bandaged when they come out. I do not
like the bandages, however, left on the legs
too long; they stop the circulation; three
hours is quite enough, and then a good hand-
rubbing will freshen a hunter's legs more
than any thing, and the groom can feel if any
thorn has got into them, or if there be any
trifling strain upon a sinew, and attend to it
at once. An acquaintance of mine tried a
complete warm bath for his horses after a
hard day's hunting, but he told me it did
not answer. The horses broke out into a
profuse sweat afterwards; I found this the
case in a less degree with the leg bath, but
I did not find that the horses were the worse
for it.

If horses will not eat their oats, mix it
with chaff and beans; a sprinkling of salt is
a good thing, and so are cut carrots. In
Austria, they give their horses small doses of
arsenic, but I should not like to try it. I
once had a mare so thin as to be a disgrace to
any stable, yet so fast and high-couraged, and
with such sporting points about her, that I
could not make up my mind to get rid of her.
Yet she was the plague of my riding life, a
perfect Rosinante. I tried everything I could
think of, but what with rejecting her food
and fretting over her work, she was nothing
but a bag of bones. At last, chance brought
me acquainted with a noted character, now
no more, Dick Wetherall, the trainer, " My
Lord," said Dick, who always used this form
of address as a matter of refined diplomacy,
"I'll tell you what you go and do with her.
Take a lot of barley, a good lot on it. Power
some biling water on it. jist enough to cover
it. Then putt it, or leastways afore you putts
the biling water, putt the barley in a glazed
pan so as nothing of the steam can git
through, and there let it soak. Next mornin
go and putt some molasses in along with it
and stir it all up. Don't trust your groom to
do this if he ain't one of the right sort, cos
he'll eat the molassea if you do, or perhaps
take 'em 'ome to his missus. When you've
made this mixter up (it's like a stiffish pudding
it is, when it's made right; or a jelly as you
may say), give her a lot on it, mixed in with
her corn, and if she don't slobber that into
her and get fat on it too, never you trust me
again. Let her have four or five feeds on it
a day." Such was the summary of Mr.
Wetherall's wisdom, and the best advice I
can give the reader is, in the words of the
Duke of Wellington to Sir Charles Napier,
"If you understand these instructions, go and
execute them."

One evil, however, it may be well to guard
against. It is apt to teach horses the
abominable trick of crib-biting. The sugar
soaks into the woodwork of the manger, and
they will keep on gnawing to get it out. To
prevent this, a manger of polished stone is
best, or one lined with zinc. I was apprehensive
that the constant use of sugar would
spoil the horse for other food if obliged to
return to it, but it has not this effect. I
have found, too, that nothing will improve a
horse's mouth and temper, more, than giving
him now and then a lump of sugar. Barley,
however, is a bad thing for fast work. To
check crib-biting a muzzle is better than a
strap.

Horses should not be fed immediately on
their coming from their work, as they are
nearly sure to blow upon their corn and leave
it; a pailful of water at a time is quite enough,
and that should be given in the morning and
evening. Now I will let the reader into a
choice little secret. I had a very beautiful
entire horse, an Arabian. I found it dangerous
to take him into the park; at last, however,
noticing the sleepy effect produced on myself
by a large glass of cold water, I bethought
me of trying the experiment on the Soldan.
I kept him short of water in the morning,
and just before my ride gave him as much as
he liked. The effect was most satisfactory.
Timid horsemen, and old gentlemen who will
ride high-couraged cattle, should have their
horses watered in this way by their friends,
whether they will or not. A bucket of water
might have saved Sir Robert Peel's life. I
know one wilful old gentleman who always
will ride horses that are too much for him.
I gave my recipe to his son, and he told me
that his father never got into mischief afterwards,
" though," said he, " he would never
forgive me if he knew he had a bucket and
a half of water under him."