CHAPTER X.. Grooms--Their Prejudices, Their Injuries, and Their Duties.

GROOMS--THEIR PREJUDICES, THEIR INJURIES, AND THEIR DUTIES.

Grooms, if generally the most loose of servants, are, by the middle classes, morally subjected to the worst treatment of all the domestics. In the larger number of the purely “genteel” families, they occupy an intermediate and an uncertain position. Few of them live in the house; but all of this order have household duties to perform. Very many have to clean the family boots; to rub up the mahogany; to polish the plate; to wait at table; and to fill those multifarious offices which every woman is certain no female ought to discharge “while there is a great hulking fellow on the establishment.”

The author does not altogether dissent from the somewhat coarse conviction just recorded. Where a single conveyance and one horse are kept, folly alone could pretend that these can, or should, occupy the entire services of a male retainer. It is far from unreasonable to impose other duties upon the man: only the horse and the stable should be allowed to have the foremost claim upon the groom’s attention. Whereas, at the present time, the animal is made secondary by the authority of the mistress; its attendant is too often so crippled with multifarious employments that it is at chance times only an opportunity is found to discharge the obligations of the domestic’s nominal office.

In suburban villas, where only one man is kept, the groom often is expected, over and above the foregoing list of duties, to keep a garden in order. To be sure, the vast majority of genteel grooms understand quite as much about horticulture as they really comprehend concerning horses. If asked for their qualifications with respect to the latter, they assume a look half insolent and half indignant before answering, “They have lived ’mong osses all their lifes.” The author was born in a house, and he has lived among houses till his hair is white, and age has more than begun to tell upon his activity; but he does not, therefore, esteem himself qualified to comprehend all about those structures.

Still the suburban groom can dig in manure; can dibble holes into soft ground, and can drop seeds therein; can stick peas, and can top beans; can tie up flowers, and can gather in fruit; so, to the height of his mistress’s requirements, he is better than a person of loftier qualifications. If any garden produce should thrive, it is hailed as the evidence of Thomas’s ability; should aught totally fail, the loss is attributed to the influence of the season. Thus credited for the good and shielded from the bad, it is scarcely cause for wonder should Thomas increase in fame, or soon grow to regard himself as perfection in the gardening capacity.

To recompense for the extra toil of servitude, the country groom takes his place at the kitchen table, and is thereby saved from many temptations to which the London outdoor domestic is necessarily exposed. He can occupy a chair before the kitchen fire when the day and the day’s work has ended. In such places there is never any lack of conversation, while the conduct of master, of missus, and of the family is open to criticism. But the town groom knows nothing of such enjoyments; he may leave his horse, during the day, for the performance of domestic duties, but, after dark, it is essential to his master’s peace of mind that the man should be thought located in the stable.

Within the last-named place he has a solitary room allotted him, which lies immediately under the slates and directly over the coach-house. If he has a family, his wife and children have to share the one small apartment, within which has to be performed the sleeping, the cooking, the eating, and the washing of the home clothes, to which, very frequently, is added the soiled linen of some patronizing neighbor. Within such a spacious residence, devoted to so many and to such opposite uses, a human being is expected to live and to thrive; to be healthy and to regard the place as his haven of domestic felicity.

Scientific investigation, however, has demonstrated that a London mews affords the most unwholesome abiding-place which is to be found within the limits of the metropolis. With only slates above to ward off the summer’s parching heat, or to keep out the winter’s biting frost; with the huge lungs below constantly vitiating the atmosphere of the place, it is no reason for surprise if the woman soon becomes a quarrelsome hag; if the children grow “fractious” imps; while the man learns to shun his home, and to practice arts which are needed to supply his extravagances elsewhere.

Undermine the bodily health, and assuredly the moral principle has a tendency to give way. Squalor is not friendly to the maintenance of probity. This fact is illustrated by nations as well as exemplified among individuals. The most necessitous are, as a tribe, always the most dishonest; but healthy poverty does not always indicate the keenest craving. The millionaire may be more greedy than the pauper. Yet when want arises from a loss of health, the desires generally increase as the powers of enjoyment diminish. The sicklier the neighborhood, the more criminal are its inhabitants. Among a people emaciated by disease, the exemplification of virtue is an exception, as witness the fearful sins which invariably accompany the visitation of devastating epidemics.

When in town, the one groom’s duties necessitate he should be up before the family have opened their eyes; his functions are nearly discharged when master’s dinner table has been cleared. The morning he is supposed to occupy by attending to the horse. The evening he is imagined to pass in the bosom of his family, or, if single, in solitude; but always in his home over the stable. Before his employer’s breakfast, and subsequently to the “Guv’nor’s” evening repast, the man is, by an amiable fiction, conjectured to be laudably engaged; although, at such times, a sickly being and a disordered mind is freed from the restraint of authority.

The homes of too many London stable-men are such abodes as no life should reside in. The place may be crowded with the elements of happiness: in it may exist wife and children; but to it can be attached none of those characteristics which should hallow domesticity. A noxious vapor at all times prevails; this undermines the health, and gradually saps the soul’s integrity. The impurity of the atmosphere induces a languor which almost compels a resort to stimulants. The man’s evenings are his leisure hours; but what choice is there to him between the blazing fire, with the cheerful society of the tap-room, and the inadequacy of accommodation or the “fractiousness” of debility, that are the chief attractions of the room which is over the stable?

A genteel groom’s wages range from one pound one to one pound ten shillings per week, together with outside clothes and an unwholesome lodging. The better class give the higher sum; but the vast majority of London grooms do not receive much more than the first amount. How, then, on so small a wage, can the men afford to visit so frequently the bar round the corner? In the first place, job masters, or men who let out carriage horses, retain persons whose duty it is to call round at the stable and see how the creatures are progressing. These men spend large sums in “treating” grooms; where an animal of a known delicate constitution is placed, their calls are proportionately numerous, and their “tips” are uniformly liberal.

A tradesman cannot look into a stable without inviting the presiding ruler of the place to take a “parting cup.” There is no class of masculine servants who levy “black mail” so universally and so unmercifully as they of the London mews. The groom, therefore, does not pay for half of the much he swallows; and to liquidate his disbursements, he collects an ample revenue. Five per cent., over and above the perpetual “treats” and gratuities, is the general tax on all the bills which his master pays.

Of the oats, many grooms claim a partner’s share. On the services, all exert the larger right. Nay, even fashion, perverse and capricious to other people, seems to pander to the wishes of the stable. The animal delights in a flowing mane and tail, which not only beautify the creature, but serve to guide the motions, to fan the body, and to flap away the insects. The groom, however, regards the long horse-hair as his property, and, to aid his views, there exists an instrument the use of which is to extract the equine adornment without exciting suspicion. Few gentlemen’s horses appear with the mane or the tail in a natural condition, and genteel prejudice sneers at the profusion on which tribute has not been levied. Thus, while the quadruped lives, it breathes to enrich him who is engaged to tend the animal.

Nothing can enter the door on which an acknowledgment is not demanded, while nothing can leave the premises which is not regarded as the groom’s lawful perquisite. The first maxim commences with the newly-purchased animal; the last terminated with the carcass which was drawn out of the stable.

For the servant’s shortcoming, however, the master is to blame. It is neither morally right nor socially just to debase a man by exposing him, for the sake of convenience, to the certainty of enervation, while you place him in a situation of trust and of authority. Perhaps few of human kind are fitted to uprightly support the double responsibility; but, certainly, he commits a sin who invests another with such powers and then turns poor frailty into an exhausting atmosphere, removed from the possibility of supervision, and exposed to those temptations, while the employer’s act has deprived his menial of the energy requisite for successful resistance.

The groom, for the convenience of the master, is forced to stand where man is not fit to be placed. He is despotic over the lives which cannot complain; he is the occupant of a home which is incompatible with health; he has property at his command, which it is impossible to check; with much idle time, he is surrounded by the examples and by the temptations of vice. His wages, however, are barely sufficient for the most rigid economy. The money he receives is certainly not fitted to satisfy the demands of the smallest extravagance. What justification can be urged in behalf of that educated gentleman who bribes an uneducated dependent to occupy so corruptive a position?

From the disinclination of employers to adequately discharge their duties, assuredly spring the many vices which beset the majority of London stables. In the country, where things are managed with less of systematic formality, and where the groom lives with the servants of the family, the same corruptions do not prevail. Tradesmen, away from the metropolis, give Christmas-boxes; they likewise occasionally “treat” and “tip,” but the custom has not degenerated into a tax; neither is the ruler of the stable paid five per cent. on the master’s bills; nor is the man thus bribed to promote that extravagance which is detrimental to the interest he has engaged himself to serve.

These things cannot be amended with the present race of grooms. They are corrupt beyond all hope of reformation. With new material, a new system must be established. The servant should be accommodated with a wholesome home. Such might be cheaply built, but it ought not to be crowded into a corner of the horse’s dwelling. It should be distinct from the stables, and ought to possess two windows, from which the horses might be overlooked. One should open from the sitting-room, the other from the sleeping-chamber. The wages at present paid may be ample for one man’s food, but no money can satisfy the unhealthy gnawing generated by a contaminated domicile. To permit a human being to marry, when his earnings will not support a family; then to thrust wife and children into one small room, the air of which is vitiated, naturally leads to the want of integrity, which, properly regarded, is in its effects no more than the consequences of injustice rebounding to strike the wrong-doer.

Against the proposal to erect distinct apartments will certainly be urged the expense which must be necessitated by such a measure. But when the year’s accounts are settled, it might be found less costly to liquidate all needful charges than to feed the continual drain which the present custom creates. However, the wealthy have no right to urge their parsimony when the health of an inferior should be the sole consideration; but it ought to be recognized as a religious obligation to sacrifice personal gratifications rather than to purchase our pleasures by the corruption of those whom Providence has permitted to exist as our dependents. The police, who are empowered to enforce the observance of certain decencies in the lodging-houses of the poor, should also be authorized to watch, that the regulations necessary to the conservancy of health and life are not violated to propitiate the parsimony of the wealthy.

The last word of the foregoing sentence is employed to denote that species of possession which should appertain to all of those who, according to the well-known definition of the witness on Thurtell’s trial, merit the term of “respectable.” To those establishments in which only one servant (generally without the assistance even of a stable-boy) is retained, the following remarks are chiefly directed. Where numerous domestics are retained, over whom a stud groom or even a coachman presides, no specific rules are required to be laid down.

The larger stables are, for the most part, variously but admirably ordered. These sin only inasmuch as he who governs shares the ignorance which pervades all modern society. But the animal suffers from other causes in the simply genteel establishment. Two grooms can better attend even to six horses than one man can do all which a single quadruped requires. For instance: how can any domestic lead the creature to exercise, and, while he is thus employed, also freshen up the stable during the period of his absence?

Every groom should be allowed a lad, for the above reason. Where only one animal is kept, few metropolitan stables are fit abodes for either man or horse. These are both retained for the labor each can perform; but, to exert this labor, a healthy residence is in both cases of equal importance. To show the reformation which in the great majority of London stables is imperative, the next engraving is introduced; and it is seriously recommended to the consideration of the public, not as a luxury or as an appendage to affluence, but as an alteration which would be favorable to absolute economy.

The above plan supposes the entire space occupied by a London stable to be appropriated to its legitimate purpose. Within the building no “groom’s room” is crowded. The interior of the horse’s apartment extends “clear up” to the roof. Such a height may, when contrasted with existing places of a like description, appear enormous; but before that opinion can be established, those purposes to which the house is devoted have to be considered.

A stable into which four inconvenient stalls were crowded may be converted into a receptacle for three small loose boxes, each measuring six feet eight inches broad by sixteen feet deep. The divisions are similar to those alluded to in the previous chapter; but the first two boxes must be passed through before the third can be reached. There is no gangway, and the door opens into the first compartment, through one box being the only passage to the others. This is inconvenient; for it necessitates that when a quadruped has to be taken out, all the horses between it and the entrance should be previously haltered and fastened up to the farthest side, or to where the manger was originally erected.

The hay-loft, instead of being directly over the horses, is separated from the animals by a stout wall. This arrangement obliges that the provender should be fetched as it is wanted; but it also provides that the food shall not be contaminated before it is offered to the quadrupeds. The vehicle is likewise removed from the possibility of soil; and the coach-house contains a stove, of the kind called “slow-consuming.” Connected with this fire is a boiler, from which hot water pipes diverge. Above the coach-house, the space is divided into hay-loft, etc.

The annual cost of a coach-house and stable in the best parts of London is thirty pounds. A house of the proposed dimensions, where the rent is highest, would necessitate an annual outlay of fifteen pounds extra. Such an amount might be easily saved from the present expenditure, while the horses would be better lodged, and last the longer; the carriage would be better housed, and not require renovation so frequently; the food would be kept sweeter, and not be as often wasted as eaten; the servant would possess a healthy home; while the master could not but gain, by the better strength and amended feelings of his dependents.

But before such changes can be witnessed, gentlemen must have released their minds from the fetters of fashionable custom. The prevailing folly, which insists that every groom shall be a stunted affectation, is a stain upon the boasted enlightenment of the present period. It is true, a light weight is essential in a jockey; but men of station should be above aping those necessities which the trainer laments being obliged to obey.

To ride, is the last qualification required in most grooms, and it is one which few of the existing deformities can properly perform. The horses, when exercised, should not be mounted, but should be led; and height is an advantage when this is being performed. The animals are likewise more readily dressed by a tall man; for many a quadruped is rendered restive by the mingled fuss and spite vented on their charges by the modern diminutives.

There is, however, one groom, whose weight should not much exceed eleven stone. This is the pad groom, whose peculiar duty it is to ride after his master or mistress, when either indulge in equestrian exercise. The man, being a personal servant, should be active and attentive. When on the road, he should follow his employer at such a distance as will prevent him from overhearing conversation, and will render it impossible for the horse he is riding to challenge or to excite the animal on which his superior is mounted. At the same time, he should be sufficiently close to observe the slightest action of his employer; and, so soon as his master shall stop, he ought to appear on the off side, ready to hold the rein while the gentleman dismounts.

The nag is, however, at the present time more the property of the servant than of the proprietor. It is more ridden by other persons than by its nominal master. The groom rides to exercise; the smith rides from the forge. When a message is sent, the servant never walks; if a parcel has to be fetched or left, the man always carries it upon another’s back than his own. In short, the steed has to work whenever the hired domestic is employed beyond the walls of the mansion.

Now, to work the master’s horses is no part of his duties who is engaged to attend upon the inhabitants of his master’s stables. It may be more pleasant to ride; but which, does he imagine, would prove most advantageous to the animals? To him whose province it is to “look after” the quadrupeds, their welfare ought to be more studied than his personal convenience. There is an accepted maxim about “serving two masters;” but this is that which all horses have to do; and very often the tyrant of the mews is far more exacting than the ruler of the mansion. People, before they complain of the expense attendant upon keeping a small stud, should ponder over the foregoing facts; for where two duties have to be simultaneously discharged, we may anticipate that health will occasionally fail, and “accidents” will frequently occur.

Gentlemen are not safe, if they mount horses which have not received the morning’s exercise. Grooms are seldom to be absolutely depended on for the invariable discharge of early duties. Hence arise the majority of those terrible misfortunes which condemn wide circles to adopt sad-colored garments. When the master is thrown, the servant’s neglect is too frequently the cause of the supposed “accident.” Therefore, where saddles are much employed, the stable attendant should never be free from all supervision during the performance of his essential duties.

After long confinement within a tainted atmosphere, the pure air seems to intoxicate the inhabitants of the stable. People, subsequent to severe sickness, generally suffer when first leaving the house. But a human chamber is kept ventilated, and the patient commonly sits near an open window before venturing abroad. The equine apartment is always foul, and during the night it generally reeks with impurity. The food and the drink of the animal are simple in the extreme. Its limbs, while in the stall, are motionless. No wonder, therefore, if sudden action and the inhalation of untainted atmosphere act in a strange manner upon a sensitive and delicately-organized body. The creature’s senses are not to be measured by human perceptions; neither are its acts to be accounted for by appealing to the conduct of its master. We must reason temperately, and accept the mute behavior as strongest evidence. Then, all horsemen must have remarked the excited caperings which signalize the first release of the horse from its unwholesome abode. During such a time the saddle cannot be a desirable seat; neither can we assert how soon the quadruped is free from its excitement, nor what circumstances may induce a renewal of the extraordinary exhibition.

The next thing to be desired is, that those persons who do not employ a stud groom should find some one to represent this important functionary. Where groom and coachman are kept, it is easy to invest the coachman with authority; for the servant is always a severe task-master to his fellow. When groom and coachman are united, the proprietor should pay more than visits of ceremony, at regular periods, to his stables.

Grooms, however, dislike to be overlooked. They constantly assert a stable is “no place for a gentleman;” and aping outward respect, they manage to render this opinion influential. When the proprietor appears in the stable, all work ceases. The groom stiffens with the most rigid propriety. Under a pretense of duty, he dogs his employer’s steps. He answers in monosyllables, and in a low voice. The face grows unpleasant in the blankness of its expression. He will not talk; he will not work; he will only watch his master, with an air partly of offense, partly of mystery. The gentleman soon grows uncomfortable; and there is small cause for surprise should the proprietor, having been thus treated, be in no hurry to repeat the visit.

The stable is then relinquished entirely to the servant. There, the man fears no eye observing his actions; and he knows there is no tongue to report his behavior. Before an uneducated individual is thus left in unchecked authority, it were well to think if his surroundings are of a character which neither passion nor malice could convert into instruments of danger.

The attention should be seriously given to the banishment of steel from every tool employed about the horses. Those who are not in the secrets of such matters cannot imagine how many injuries, which are reported and accepted as “accidents,” are really wounds willfully inflicted during moments of irritation.

An instant’s reflection will, however, convince the least credulous reader of the feasibility of the above assertion. Stable-men usually pass their evenings at an adjacent public house. After a night’s endeavor to sleep in a foul atmosphere, their duties oblige them to be early risers. They enter the stable, having their stomach upset; with their temper consequently unhinged, and in no mood to attend upon the wants of an unsympathetic animal. At such moments the iron tools must be employed, and the lightest of these things can inflict the most terrible injuries. The stable fork is commonly spoken of as a dangerous weapon. The man may be removing the bed with this implement, when he mutters, “kim ovare.” The horse does not hear or does not understand the command. The order is shouted out in the topmost key of an angry voice. Fear incapacitates the quadruped for obedience. The arm is raised before the creature has recovered; and a blow from a pitchfork will leave a fearful mark behind.

To avoid such “accidents,” banish the use of metal from within the stable. All requisite implements can be made of horn or of hard wood. To scrape the perspiration off the body of a horse, a slip of whalebone will leave nothing to be desired; to toss up or to carry away thirty-six pounds of loose straw, tough wood may answer as well as iron. The curry-comb will scrape enough, if composed of horn; although, save in exceptional cases, and under veterinary advice, such an implement of torture is better abolished, for it generates the scurf which its constant use is thought to remove. The man can work longer and accomplish more with a hair cloth, a brush, and a whisk. Should the skin appear dry or scurfy, forbear to irritate it with the curry-comb. Moisten it the night before with the following preparation; on the ensuing morning dress the animal with the utmost gentleness.

Preparation for a scurfy skin.

Animal glycerin One part. Rose-water Two parts. Mix.

A small teacupful of the above should be sufficient to moisten the entire body of a horse; for the skin, not the hair, requires merely to be lightly damped with a small bit of sponge. To execute this properly occupies considerable time; it cannot be quickly performed. But if this is done occasionally, the integument will continue soft; for the effect of glycerin, as a wash for the skin, cannot possibly be too much confided in. Should the smell of the animal glycerin prove offensive, the property may be overcome by adding to the mixture a sufficiency of any cheap essential oil. To harness horses, however, animal glycerin is not so powerful as to necessitate any corrective.

A further benefit will be secured by the banishment of the curry-comb. Those noisy and unseemly contests, which are provoked every morning, will no longer startle a quiet neighborhood. The shouts of “stand still,” and the blows with which these orders were accompanied, will cease to be heard; for the writhing which elicited both will terminate when the curry-comb has been abolished. Grooms, by the gentler behavior of their charges, may be tutored to abandon those very emphatic expletives that sound oddly when addressed to the animal, which is the most patient and the most obedient of all creation. Mild words commonly accompany gentle actions; under better regulations, man and horse may learn ultimately to cherish for each other those emotions natural to two living beings that are thrown so much into each other’s society.

Tying the horse’s head high up to a wall--putting on the necklace--using the muzzle, or employing the arm-strap--are but artifices which enable a groom to employ a needless instrument with unnecessary severity. Animals with tender hides suffer so acutely under this affliction, that lamentable consequences have been caused by that desperation which the torture has induced. It is better to adopt gentler means, when these are more certain and more effectual than any restraints can possibly be rendered, while the curry-comb is retained.

Having so far changed the habits of the stable as to prevent the groom from riding on all occasions--having brought the man to believe that, where strength is not required, articles made of wood or of horn are as useful as tools manufactured out of iron--having convinced him of the folly exemplified by the employment of such very energetic language to an animal,--there yet remains something more to be accomplished. Small respect is evinced by sullen demeanor. The man, having acknowledged the entrance of his master, should proceed with his ordinary work, until the voice of his employer calls his attention from it, or desires his presence elsewhere. This the domestic ought to comprehend and to acknowledge before he is required to exemplify it by his actions. The servant must be also taught to remove pails, cloths, or instruments from the stable the instant such articles are no longer employed. Thus those unsightly objects, as stopping-box, dirty rags, soiled bottles, forks, brooms, sticks, etc., which now usually litter such places, would be totally banished into obscurity.

These things should never be suffered to remain after they are no longer needed. Grooms often acquire a habit of striking their charges; this practice is likely to be encouraged by the means of chastisement being always ready to the hand. Insist that the interior be kept invariably clear; that all tools are brought into the stable as required, and are carried thence when no longer employed. Jars, bottles, etc. should never be allowed to accumulate, under a pretense that such refuse may prove useful on some future occasion, or may hereafter be sold as a legitimate perquisite. Forbid the insertion of nails or hooks into the walls; for such projections have occasioned fearful rents in a horse’s body; and so have the sharp edges formed by the building, whether these are of brick, of wood, or of iron: all should be very carefully rounded, for this last precaution being unheeded has induced lamentable injuries.

In a properly regulated stable, water should be abundant, and ought to be freely employed. Grooms dislike this. At present, even books are written which, as an innovation upon confirmed habits, seriously propose that the flooring of stalls should be washed once a week. The author recommends that the loose boxes should be thoroughly flooded every morning, and that, while this is done, they also should be well scrubbed with a stiff birch broom. The pavement ought to look clean, and the stable should be perfectly free from any taint. Many ignorant or idle persons assert dirt to be preservative of health; but if the reader will experiment with a little cleanliness, he may afterward be trusted to decide upon the merit of the opposite extreme. While the grooms are walking the horses the stable-boys can cleanse the boxes, and these places being warmed during winter, there is no peril to be anticipated from excess of moisture, though inconvenience may be experienced in consequence of its deficiency.

The stable thus regulated is not only a safer, but it is a more healthful abode for horses. Another advantage is gained by keeping the building perfectly vacant--no excuse is then ever ready to justify the intrusion of idlers. When groom and horses reside under one roof, such an order cannot be insisted upon; but when each has a distinct home, the man’s visitors evidently have no business within the master’s offices. Vulgar people are apt to become excited by the presence of numbers, and to illustrate their dexterity upon the quadrupeds, which cannot comprehend that action to be intended for play, when their part in the amusement generally calls on the creatures to endure. Moreover, grooms are fond of dogs; some of their pets are remarkable for ferocity. Nor does the educated savagery of the canine species form the only objection to their presence; these animals have a tendency to exhibit a fearful disease, to inoculation from which the horse is very susceptible.

Cleanliness, quietude, and regularity should prevail in every stable. Where one horse alone is kept, the groom should be placed over a lad; for a stable cannot be well managed by one pair of hands. The door of the building should be unlocked punctually at six o’clock. The horse should be inspected, to see that no mishap has occurred during the night; after which the animal, at present, receives the earliest feed of corn, mixed with two pounds of clover hay cut into chaff, the whole having been steamed or macerated. While this is being consumed, the night clothes should be removed; the unsoiled straw divided from the soiled bedding; the clothes should be spread out to become perfectly dry; the exposed body of the animal should be again thoroughly inspected; stopping (when used) taken from the feet; the water renewed; the feet looked to; the clinches of the nails, which fasten on the shoes, should be felt; the unsoiled bed heaped into one corner of the box; the day clothes put on; and those things generally attended to which are required to give the place a smart appearance.

Seven o’clock.--The day clothes are either allowed to remain, are changed for lighter sheets, or are entirely removed, according to the weather: the horse is bridled, and the animal is led forth to one hour’s exercise; the helper or the stable-boy throws every outlet open; puts the bedding out to dry, if requisite; washes the pavement; sluices the drains; cleans the manger; allows a full stream of water to flow through the troughs; getting the building sweet and ready by the expiration of the hour.

This morning exercise is, in London, often neglected; but it should always be strictly insisted on. Perhaps it were better, were the animals at once conducted from the place in which they slept and led through the air upon the first opening of the doors: after which they could return to sweetened apartments, with bodies refreshed and appetites stimulated by the morning breeze. Moreover, it is better to divide the exercise and the work by as long a period as possible; and the food must be more nutritive and wholesome when eaten in a clean apartment, than when devoured in a chamber reeking with the fumes of twelve hours’ imprisonment. No fear need be felt concerning the delay, as the exercise is no more to the horse than is the early walk before breakfast, in which so many gentlemen indulge with advantage to their constitutions. During winter, however, the morning exercise is often delayed; and then is seldom given. The only legitimate excuse for the absence of such a necessity to health, is the presence of a severe frost. Otherwise, winter and summer, the early walk should never be neglected.

Eight o’clock.--The horse is brought in, and, being stripped, the grooming commences before the body cools. This is performed outside in very warm weather, but within the stable when the day is either cold or wet. Hair cloth, dandy and water brush; hay wisp, sponge and comb, are only employed in this operation. The hair cloth is used, save in cases of absolute necessity, instead of a curry-comb: the other things are employed after the manner in which grooms are accustomed to use them.

The groom should always cleanse the body in the line of the hair. To ruffle this, causes annoyance to the animal, and interferes with the beauty of its appearance. The daily renovation ought to commence with the head. On this part more time and patience should be lavished than is usually bestowed. The groom is not perfect in his duty until his office affords pleasure to the creature on which he operates. The ears are smoothed and made glossy with the hand. Then the fore quarters are dressed; afterward the animal is turned round, and the other parts are attended to: but one agent is always fully used before the next is introduced. The openings having been sponged and the long hair combed, the toilet is then finished. This being done, the groom sees about his harness, etc., till nine o’clock.

To ascertain whether an animal has been properly groomed, inspect the roots of the mane. Should scurf appear, set the servant to remove it. Also finger the body, which should communicate no thick and greasy soil to the hand. Grooms will assert it is impossible to prevent these effects; but if their labor cannot clear the coat, they must be either very ignorant or very idle. It is useless to dispute with an inferior. Tell him you insist upon your desires being accomplished, and you will only retain the man who can effect it.

Nine o’clock.--The horse receives another feed, consisting of two and a half pounds of soaked peas or of soaked tares, one quart of soaked and crushed barley, with three pounds of clover hay cut into chaff, and also steeped: all soil is removed from the boxes; the groom then returns to finish his harness. Every piece is unbuckled and cleaned separately, and all metal articles polished, after the leather has been overlooked and renovated.

Ten o’clock.--The man goes to the house for the day’s orders: these obtained, he returns to the stable; he finishes the harness and he cleans the carriage. The cushions should be removed and daily aired: in hot weather, in the sun; in wet or during cold seasons, at the fire. This is done before the vehicle itself is attended to.

Twelve o’clock.--The horse has another feed, composed of half a gallon of crushed and macerated oats, with two pounds of properly prepared pea or bean chaff.

Two o’clock.--The horse, when not required by the master or mistress, is led out for two hours’ exercise. When its services are needed, the eyes, nostrils, etc. are sponged over; the mane and tail combed out; the coat is dried and smoothed; the exterior of the hoofs slightly glycerined; the feet and shoes specially noticed; then the saddle or harness is put on, and the animal is walked, not hurried, round to the front door. If the quadruped’s services are not required, the last directions are unheeded.

Four or five o’clock.--When the horse returns, either from abroad or from exercise, the bed should have been littered down, and the body should be slightly dressed; the night clothes should be ready; the animal is fed with four pounds of Egyptian beans, soaked and mingled with half a peck of upland hay chaff. When the horse is out late, the groom and the stable-boy should be up to receive it. Further instructions will, hereafter, be given concerning the treatment of the animal’s possible condition when it is brought home at unseasonable hours.

At dusk.--A small light is ignited, and placed in a lantern.

At ten o’clock.--The horse receives the last meal, which consists of the same ingredients as the twelve o’clock feed.

In the foregoing directions, only those things have been mentioned which require to be executed with regularity. Many small acts are, of course, not named. These are done between the more important duties. But, as a general division of the labor, a good groom should always make the horse the primary consideration. Thus, the fore part of the day is entirely spent upon the quadruped, upon the harness, and upon the vehicle; while the afternoon (where such an arrangement be possible) is devoted to the employer or to the stable, and to those small matters which always demand attention.

A better division of the feeding is, to withhold the nine o’clock portion, and to give it at two o’clock in the early morning; for as the horse delights in comparative darkness, and is by nature formed to be hungry and active after sunset, man certainly would gain by following the plan which best accords with the animal’s instinct. Thus horses, being observed when in the field, will invariably be seen either resting or sleeping during the hot hours of the afternoon. The cool of the evening, consequently, would be a better time for enforcing exercise than the period when, according to existing customs, it is generally administered. In private establishments, however, many of the latter proposals would be attended with inconvenience; but the author can imagine no household in which the ten o’clock feed and the evening exercise might not be undertaken, and, in several public companies, everything here suggested could be accomplished. The morning’s exercise should likewise be given before the day becomes hot or the light is fully confirmed. Then the quadruped is braced by the spirit of the hour, not rendered miserable by the heat and annoyed by the stings of innumerable insects.

The only peculiarity in the above regulations consists in the length of time over which the feeding and the exercising are distributed. The ordinary day of most stables lasts only eleven or twelve hours. The author makes the period to extend over sixteen hours. His reasons for so doing are twofold: in the first place, the horse is by nature formed to enjoy the night much more than it is made capable of roaming during the day; in the second place, the author never dissected the carcass of an aged animal without finding the capacity of the stomach morbidly enlarged, and the walls of the viscus rendered dangerously thin by repeated distention. The manner in which the small digestive bag of the quadruped must be overloaded, by the usual plan of cramming five full meals into twelve hours, accounts for the latter characteristic, and also explains why indigestion should rank among the most fearful and the commonest malady which attends upon domestication.

The curry-comb is abolished; but the generality of grooms also require to be cautioned concerning the use of the wisp and the brush. The first article is generally brought down upon the sides with a succession of heavy blows. Now, beating is not cleaning; neither is one act necessary to the proper performance of the other. The brush is often applied so quickly and sharply as to cause the animal to shrink. The groom would not admire being himself dressed according to such a method. The hair cloth should be used to remove impurities; the brush is employed to expel loose particles, and to smooth any hair which the previous process may have disturbed or roughened; the wisp is intended to polish the coat. Any violence over and above that requisite to fulfill such intentions, is needless cruelty, and should, when detected, be immediately checked.

The more important portion of a groom’s duty, however, concerns the treatment necessary for a wet, a tired, a dirty, or a heated horse. Most servants are successful in dressing an animal when the stable is entered in the morning, but few comprehend how to groom a steed in any of the conditions which have just been named; and, of that number, fewer still care to stay out of their beds to cleanse the soiled coats of the creatures intrusted to their custody.

Clipping and singeing are processes which all stable-men greatly admire. However, before the grounds of their admiration are criticised, it may be as well to reason a little upon what appears to be a growing custom. British horses are deprived of the thick, warm covering which nature bestows only in the winter. It certainly does sound somewhat paradoxical, when it is stated that the English allow their quadrupeds to run about in full costume during the summer’s heat, but take off every protection as wet, snow, and frost approach. Certainly, if extra covering is requisite at any period, man, by great-coats, cloaks, mantles, overshoes, respirators, boas and comforters, has declared that Christmas is the time for additional warm clothing. But the groom protests it is impossible to keep a wintry equine garment dry; he says that when the creature has been made comfortable the previous evening, the coat is often found to be quite wet on the following morning.

Still, in some very cold climates, it is not unusual to wet the garments, for the purpose of confining the animal heat, or of preventing cuticular evaporation; therefore, the moisture of the skin may be ordained with a benevolent design. But granting all the groom can object to wintry perspirations, the body which perspires is confined in a stable, and an impure atmosphere can occasion a faintness which shall provoke a copious cuticular emission. At all events, man has, in his treatment of the horse, made such egregious blunders that he ought to be careful how he presumes, in future, to differ from the ordinances of nature.

To illustrate the effects produced by a thick, wet covering, and by a thin, wet envelope, let the author narrate the result of a very simple experiment, which the reader may without much trouble institute for himself. Obtain two bottles. Wrap one closely in several layers of calico; around the other fix only a single, tightly-fitting covering of the same fabric. Saturate the cloths of both bottles with water; also fill the interior of each with the same liquid. Renew the moisture to the two coverings as either becomes dry. After twelve hours, test the temperatures of the contents poured from either bottle. That from the thickly-covered (which may remain wet) vessel will be unchanged, or warmer for its confinement; that contained within the thinly-protected inclosure (which possibly shall be quite dry) will be cold, very cold--so cold, that in warm climates water is thus rendered a refreshing draught. Nay, the hotter the medium to which the bottles have been exposed, the colder will be the temperature of the thinly-coated liquid.

Now, the stable is always a heated medium. The animal with a thick coat is represented by the vessel with a thick incasement, the contents of which are not chilled by the moisture which saturates its envelope. The clipped steed is represented by the bottle thinly enfolded, the liquid within which became cold. But, it may be urged, the clipped horse is never moist. Then perspiration must be checked, and fever must be present; for, during health, the pores of the skin are never inactive. Where the coat is removed, superficial perspiration, accompanied with constant evaporation, must always be taking place. Where the hair is thick, moisture naturally accumulates; because the covering prevents superficial evaporation, and thereby checks the operating cause of internal frigidity.

For the reasons explained by the above experiment, horses which have been clipped or singed are thereby rendered more susceptible to many terrible disorders. Any internal organ may be acutely attacked; because the perspiration has, by exposure of the skin, been thrown back upon the system. Numerous hunters (which animals are always clipped) fail, at the beginning of the season, from this cause. Nor can the author comprehend the purpose served by the prevailing custom, excepting the propitiation of a servant’s humor. It is said, the animal moves so much more nimbly after the long coat has been removed. This may be the fact, though the author has hitherto seen no such marked change follow the operation as will allow him to deliberately corroborate the general assertion.

Moreover, let the servant, when he notices the animals for the first time in the morning, observe the breathing of the quadrupeds. The building has been closely shut for the entire night, and the impure atmosphere will necessarily excite the respiration. Now, it may not be exactly in accordance with the groom’s notions, but scientific men have long known the skin and the lungs to be joined in one and the same function. Then, what right has ignorance to expect one to be idle when the other is oppressed?

Perspiration only implies cuticular activity. It is a healthy action; the emission of the horse is only an effort of nature to cast off those impurities which man obliges his prisoner to inhale. The clipped animal must also perspire if it also inhabit the building, and remain free from disease. The skin must equally exhale, as a law of its existence; but the hair being short, and the surface of the body exposed, the heated medium in which the creature stands may cause the moisture to evaporate as rapidly as it is emitted. Still, all this will not satisfy the stable-man. It is not only the wetness of the coat which he dreads, but it is the presence of dirt that he abominates. Long hair attracts and protects mud, which, however, is easily removed from any substance, after it has been allowed to yield up its component moisture.

Viewing the insensible perspiration as an established fact, the prevailing customs are not unattended with danger. The advent of the summer’s covering is delayed, and the system seems to suffer greatly during the subsequent period of changing the coat. The pace flags; the spirits fail; and the quadruped becomes more susceptible to disease, at a time of year when equine disorders are commonly more general and more virulent.

Yet, it may be urged, that in the winter season the roads are far dirtier, and the long coat is so much more retentive and more difficult to cleanse. Here again the argument returns to the groom, and to his distaste for his avocation. It is true, a long-haired heel should not be made clean after the usual fashion. The man should not take the horse outside into the night air, and should not tie its head to the stable walls. He should not dash a pail or two of cold water over the soiled and heated members; and should not lead the horse back to its stall, retiring to bed with a comfortable conviction that he has done his duty.

To fling about water necessitates little trouble, therefore it is a favorite practice with all stable attendants. Whether it meets with equal favor from the life whose heels have to sustain the deluge, no one has, hitherto, been weak enough to inquire. That nature intentionally clothed the horse’s heels with long hair, to keep lowly-organized parts warm and free from dust, is a fact neither thought of nor cared about. The man specially retained to look after the quadrupeds cuts away the provision which was instituted by the Source of all mercy; then applies cold water to the organs which Wisdom saw reason to shelter, leaving the members to chill and chap, while he retires to his repose.

The animal, with its dripping heels, is hastily fastened in a stall. The clipped legs of a horse are admirably adapted to exemplify the effects of evaporation. That portion of the body where the circulation is most feeble has to endure the effects of the process which can generate cold, even during the extremity of the summer’s heat. Cracked heels, grease, etc. (see “Illustrated Horse Doctor”) are the immediate results; and the master who makes the welfare of his steed subservient to the idle prejudices of his groom, is fitly punished in the lengthened period of his animal’s compulsory idleness, appropriately finished by the payment of a long bill to the veterinary surgeon.

The author seriously proposes that all horses’ legs should be permitted to retain the adornments which were sent by the bounty of nature for the comfort of her creatures. The clipped or singed horse is a deformity: the color is unnatural: the coat is dull and stubborn, looking most unlike that polished surface which is native to the beautiful quadruped. Moreover, those who live in a temperate climate should be content to forego certain elegances which are natural to warmer regions: or, if they will have tropical loveliness, they should encourage it by those means which enable oranges to ripen in England, and not descend to meannesses which may expose their desires, but can deceive no one,--not even the most ignorant in horse flesh.

Supposing a horse to be brought home with unclipped but with soiled heels; with the lower part of the abdomen covered by dirt, and the coat drenched with rain:--the animal is led into the stable; the bridle and saddle are removed; the body is first quickly scraped; then it is rubbed over with a few dry wisps; afterward it is lightly hooded and covered with an ample sheet. The master, who has hastily taken off his boots and changed so much of his clothing as was wet, now returns, bringing a quart of warm beer in a pudding dish, and he remains to see the quadruped drain the draught.

Horses soon learn to drink and to enjoy malt liquor. Were such stimulants equally at their command, certainly the animal would excel its superiors in habits of intoxication. The majority of quadrupeds may, with the first few draughts, require a little coaxing; but the primary disinclination overcome, the craving for such an indulgence seems to be immoderate. An occasional stimulant is, however, very useful in the stable. It revives exhaustion, and restores vigor to the circulation. The timely administration of a quart of fermented liquor to a jaded steed has often prevented those evils which usually attend upon bodily prostration.

The drink being swallowed, the sheet is taken off, and the body made thoroughly dry with wisps and cloths. The lad again employs the scraper: the man with a cloth dries the eyes, channel between the thighs, chest and abdomen, always performing his duties with gentleness, and discarding the cloth for a hay wisp, where the hair is thick, or wherever the water appears to have lodged. While this is doing, the proprietor should comb out the tail, the forelock, and the mane; he should also discharge those many little offices which are not laborious, but which add greatly to the comfort of a tired animal. Other portions of this matter will be treated of in another part of the present article,--such portions being, the food proper subsequent to fatigue, and the right method of cleaning the heels. However, it may be necessary to observe in this place that before the quadruped is left for the night, the sheet should be removed, and the usual night rug put on to the body.

When a horse is brought in, covered with perspiration, it is led at once into the stable; master, man, and boy should join in its purification. The lad takes the scraper, and, beginning at the quarters, hastily presses out the excess of moisture; while the groom procures a pail of cold and a pail of warm water. All being ready, the master not having left the stable, the lad brings forth a dish of diluted soap, (half a pound of soap whisked about till it has dissolved in one quart of water,) and, dipping his right hand in this preparation, he smears it all over the body. So fast as the youth rubs the soap into the hair, the groom washes it off, by pouring warm water over the place. The warm water carries away the soap, and with it are also removed all the impurities natural to the soiled condition of the skin.

After the groom comes the master, who pours upon the body, already washed with warm fluid, a stream of cold water from the rose of a watering-pot. The intention of the process may be thus explained. The dissolved soap and the warm water are simply used to cleanse the body; having done this, the cold water is applied merely to close the pores of the skin, and to invigorate the system which exertion had debilitated.

This accomplished, all hands present, after the manner already directed, should set to work: scraping, rubbing, combing, and using their utmost endeavors to dry the animal as quickly as possible. The horse is then lightly hooded and clothed. Where there exists a covered way, the animal should be run up and down the protected road six or seven times; then returned to the stable. Should there be no ambulatory connected with the premises, the friction ought to be continued longer than otherwise, so that the surface of the skin may be gently warmed, and the circulation slightly quickened, that being all the little amount of motion which was ordered could accomplish.

With regard to the legs and feet of the animal, these parts are so much exposed that to them the same danger does not attend the presence of damp as is commonly dreaded in the human subject. The water with which the body has been drenched will naturally flow down the legs, and remove from them no inconsiderable quantity of soil. All, however, having been performed as directed, the groom takes up each hoof and cleans it thoroughly out with a picker and a hard brush. Then he goes upon his knees; with several straw wisps, he removes so much dirt and moisture as will yield to friction. This done, he brushes over the outer wall of the horn with glycerin, and rolls bandages round the legs.

In the above illustration, the size of the horse cloth cannot otherwise than have appeared strange to the reader. But things as large, if not of a greater magnitude, should be in every stable--not for general use, but for special occasions. The ordinary rug merely covers the spine, not doing so much toward keeping warm the carcass of a horse as would be effected by a Guernsey jacket upon the body of a man. Yet, who would think of employing the last article as a sole envelope for a cold and fatigued traveler? This, however, is all modern custom sanctions for the comfort of a tired and exhausted steed! The folly of so inadequate a provision is apparent, and the necessity of the innovation suggested by the last engraving must be obvious to all who will condescend to think seriously on the subject.

While the legs are being attended to, the supper may also be before the horse. The meal, however, should not be of the full quantity or of a heavy nature. The stomach sympathizes with the general exhaustion of the body; the digestion is too much weakened to appropriate its ordinary nutriment. For a steed whose feeding capabilities are not hearty, a little bread and salt, offered from the hand of its human favorite, will frequently be eaten. Half of a half quartern loaf, lightly seasoned, commonly will be gratefully accepted, if given in the manner directed. Often, however, the craving is limited to liquids, all solid provender being refused.

The animal should not be annoyed by any well-intentioned coaxing to eat, when nature commands it to abstain. The inclination of the quadruped should, at this time, always be respected; for a tired steed stands upon the borders of inflammation, and in proportion to the value of the quadruped invariably is the danger of an attack. Hard-worked horses often want the stamina which enables nature to resist the effects of exhaustion. The bread, if not accepted, should be immediately withdrawn, and a pail of well and smoothly made gruel, with which the meal was to have concluded, be alone presented. All other food should be removed, and the animal left, supperless, to its repose.

If the gruel is rejected, take it away; place it in a cool situation, and it may be swallowed with avidity on the following morning. If allowed to remain, the animal will breathe upon it, and grow to distaste the nourishment. Suffer the horse to take the rest which a disinclination to feed will have informed you is nature’s primary requirement. Only, order the groom once or twice to peep at the nag through the window which overlooks the stable. Should the creature have laid down, the man may retire to his bed, convinced that all is well; but should the animal, upon the second inspection, be beheld standing up, no time must be lost. The servant ought to dress himself, to apprise his master, and to descend to the stable; for this attitude, being long maintained, is among the earliest and surest indications that disease has commenced.

A good feeder may simply require an allowance of bruised beans and corn, to be well boiled in a sufficiency of water, and, before being presented as two meals, quite cold. No hay, but a little bran or chaff should accompany the mess, as the desire is to nourish the system without overloading the stomach. Should, however, this portion be refused, it is soon converted into gruel, by stirring to it a sufficiency of water and placing it on the fire; afterward by pouring the liquid through a strainer, the husks are readily separated. It is but seldom that full feeders are thus far exhausted. A voracious appetite is commonly united to so much slothfulness of body as saves the horse from the aggravated effects of absolute muscular and nervous prostration.

On the following morning--supposing no mishap to have occurred--when the time arrives to groom the horse, the bandages should be taken off, and, as each wrapper is removed, the leg ought to be dressed. Firstly, the member should be well rubbed with several wisps of straw. The more apparent dirt being removed, the part should be further cleansed by application of the hand. After this the hair should be combed; then again ruffled with the hand--these processes being terminated by a thorough application of the dry water brush. This operation should be repeated upon each leg, no hurry being indulged in the performance of this operation; but water should not be applied to the heels, without the special leave of the proprietor having been obtained. The case should be very marked before such permission is accorded; for wet to the heel is the cause of numerous troublesome affections.

Most grooms are convinced of the propriety of walking the horse up and down when the creature has returned, and perspiration has moistened the winter’s coat. The author has, elsewhere, illustrated the folly of this practice. The body soon chills, upon a change of action; notwithstanding a most conscientious individual might swear the legs have never ceased moving. It is better to have the horse at once brought into the stable; to cleanse the skin with liquid soap and warm water; and to close the open pores by the application of cold fluid; then, with vigorous friction, using straw wisps, to cause a reaction in the circulation. Only, where the author’s last recommendation is adopted, the friction must not cease until the skin glows, which it usually will in a remarkably short period.

All grooms are much disposed to treat the foot of the horse as a mysterious organ, which none but a person reared in a stable possibly can comprehend. This is the result of impudence and ignorance, working for the exaltation of selfishness. The foot is not generally understood, because people, in their folly, will insist on regarding a very simple member as an uncommon and a complicated structure. The horn being porous, insensible perspiration should escape through its minute openings. To prove this, let the gentleman accompany his nag to the farrier’s, the next time the animal is shod. When the sole is pared, let a wineglass be held over the part, and the surface of the vessel will speedily be bedewed with the exuding moisture.

Now, grooms understand nothing, and care less about the perspiratory property of the horn. They cannot understand how the stoppage of perspiration may induce serious sickness. Therefore, most of the secret nostrums employed to embellish and to keep healthy the horn of the horse’s foot contain tallow, wax, lamp-black, and various solids, which must clog the pores of the hoof, and, by arresting one of its functions, provoke disease. The best application to adorn this part is a little of the glycerin mixture, directions for preparing which have already been given. This moistens and renders pliable the hoof, which, be it black or white, will present a polished surface, without the pores being clogged up by the tenacious property of its substance.

It is a general custom to contract with the groom, that he shall supply the horse with cloths, brushes, etc. The sum usually given is four or five pounds, over and above the yearly wages. This custom is attended with two evils and with one advantage. The evils are,--should the man quit his situation, he commonly leaves an empty stable behind him; or the master has to buy a second time those things which his money has already purchased. The other objection being,--that grooms are likely to procure less than is essential, when the fewer articles they can make shift with puts so much money into their pockets; thereby the horse is either imperfectly attended to, or the vehicle (where the groom has to look after one) suffers from the want of proper appliances. The solitary advantage which attends this kind of arrangement being,--that it enables the proprietor to estimate, with greater accuracy, the cost of his establishment.

London stables are all faulty. Such places are much too small. A stable which is professed to contain four stalls, should be divided into two loose boxes; or it might, if the stalls are of the kind which is denominated “roomy,” be converted into three small compartments. Therefore, every gentleman hiring a building for this purpose, should rent one which, in London, is generally esteemed larger than he is supposed to require. The alterations are quickly made; and the proprietor may be certain that his outlay will bear a most liberal interest. Where valuable horses are concerned, rent is not a weighty consideration.

The stable being taken and altered, order the groom to watch the eating capacities of your horses. If he report that each feeds alike, or that all clear their mangers, either investigate the matter yourself, or have the animals observed by somebody on whose report you can better depend. It is seldom that three quadrupeds meet, having precisely equal capacities in any particular. The author has, seemingly, ordered one general quantity for all horses; but those who serve out the provender should apportion the amount by the results of experience.

There is one quality for which most London grooms are remarkable; nevertheless this conspicuous characteristic appears to have, hitherto, escaped observation. They all display a strange union of extreme innocence and the height of knowingness. They profess to understand everything which concerns the horse. In every essential of the many circumstances which surround all animals, they will not quietly permit their knowledge to be questioned. But with regard to that particular sphere which it is their duty to be acquainted with, they ape an innocence which, in its excess of wonder, amounts to the possible extent of impudence.

The groom prides himself on the power of being “close;” but he exhibits this attainment chiefly to his master, and principally at his employer’s cost. Let anything be broken in the stable, and it only excites the groom’s surprise. He knows nothing about it. If a horse is seriously injured, the man who looks after the animal hails the event as an “accident:” is perplexed by its occurrence, and never has the remotest idea how it could have happened. Should anything be missing, the servant recognizes its absence with astonishment, and remembers to have recently seen it; but cannot imagine where or how it has departed!

On the other hand, his knowledge masters impossibilities. He can make any lame horse go sound; he can induce prime condition in less than a week; he can cure glanders; he can render the most savage horse as tame as a lap-dog; he knows how to plan a stable; how to make harness look well and last long; understands carriages; and, in short, is a perfect proficient in everybody’s business, though he never knew anything that immediately concerns his own immediate department.

The reader will have drawn the inference from the above fact that a groom is never to be believed. The author laments he cannot gainsay such a conclusion. The master will only be misled by following his servant’s teaching. Domestics of all descriptions are to be employed; theirs is no office of instruction. Yet grooms deal largely in advice, and always have an opinion ready to be advanced. The gentleman will gain who can afford to discard such pretensions. Keep the stable-man entirely to his duties. Never allow him to exceed these. Never permit him to quit his legitimate sphere; for, in any other province, he is the very dearest assistant that money could possibly procure.

In conclusion, never permit the London groom, save at certain unemployed and stated periods, to engage in household duties.

He speedily grows to be worthless in both occupations, when his labor equally concerns the home and the stable. The horse is the excuse, when any domestic order is not fulfilled; the house is his justification, whenever complaint is made that the quadruped, the vehicle, or the harness exhibits evidences of neglect. This is one of the reasons why so many disgraceful single horse “turn outs” may be beheld journeying through the streets of London. Sights which are melancholy to contemplate, and disgraceful for any gentleman to acknowledge.

In a previous chapter the author has described what a stable ought to be; but he anticipates it will be a long time before the public shall consent to adopt the writer’s notions. Most persons will not soon amend or speedily change the conveniences attending the present form of stables. However, when renting a building divided into stalls, anybody may command one loose box. This is readily made by placing two bales across the gangway, reaching from the farthest trevise, each bale resting against the wall of the building. Such an extemporaneous makeshift has been found very useful in cases of severe injury or of sudden disease.