he will seldom be too fat. Mr. R. Tattersall, Jun. made a remark to me some time since, which, although it was merely a casual observation, I consider was rather complimentary as regarded the general condition of my horses. I was riding a little thorough-bred mare, which I had been using as my hack for some time, when he observed, "Why your horses always look as if they were in training." Accustomed as he is to seeing so many horses made up for sale, and the generality of London horses so overfull of flesh, a hack in the trim that I always desire to have mine would doubtless appear to him almost in racing condition.

Although I am aware that I shall have to encounter a host of objectors, especially amongst those of the Old School, I am decidedly in favor of keeping hacks warm. It is obvious to every one in the least degree acquainted with the habits and constitution of the horse, that he looks best and is in the most healthy state in warm weather, consequently he can then perform the most labor: not, let me explain myself, that I would select one of the hottest days in summer as the day of all others to perform a long journey; but I would, if possible, have a moderately warm day, preceded by days of equal temperature, if our changeable climate would permit me, upon the principle that the animal's health would in all probability be at its best.

The nearer we follow Nature in the treatment of animals the better; and I contend that keeping horses in cold and exposed situations is a violation of the laws of Nature. The blood-horse originally came from Eastern climates, where the temperature is dry and warm; and although he is to a certain extent naturalized to this climate, there can be no doubt the nearer the temperature may be to that of his primitive soil the better will his health be.

The vine, it is true, will grow and produce grapes in the open air in this country, but not in that abundance, size, quality, or flavor as it does in warmer climates, or when protected by the shelter of a hothouse. Those who object to having their hacks kept warm argue that at times they are inevitably exposed to a cold stable, and that such a change will be productive of catarrh, inflammation, and various other diseases. This is an evil not so frequently to be encountered as formerly: stables are more comfortably constructed than they used to be; and if a dinner invitation or other social visit exposes the hack to a temporary asylum in a cold stable, a rug or two, or even a blanket, can surely be found to keep him warm whilst his master enjoys himself at the festive board. Indeed if no envelopement can be procured, I am convinced the animal will not be so susceptible of cold, although accustomed to warmth at home, as he will be if kept too cool, and for this reason--he will be finer in his coat, and from the beneficial result of condition, he will be dry; whereas a horse with a long coat, and out of condition, has a garment like a wet blanket, with a languid circulation, insufficient to create that evaporation necessary to render the horse dry, and the perspiration will be seen hanging to the point of almost every hair on his body.

For this reason the operation of CLIPPING, unless a horse possesses a short and fine coat during the winter season, never ought to be neglected, for there is no description of horse to whom it is, generally speaking, more essential than for hacks. I can speak of its advantages

from experience, and will relate one or two circumstances which came under my own observation.

Several years since a pony mare, which I rode as hack, was in the winter invariably afflicted with a cough: she had an exceedingly long coat, which did not dry after work for several hours: the fashion of clipping being introduced, I had that operation performed, and I was no longer teazed by the cough: she would dry in a very short time, and most unquestionably stood her work better than before. She was used for thirteen successive years, and is now living, at the age of twenty-two, although not in my possession; but this is pretty good evidence that her constitution was not injured.

The most convincing proof of horses not being so subject to take cold as many persons imagine, is evidenced by an event which happened to me last winter. I had had my hack clipped, and only three days afterwards, returning home across a large park about six o'clock of one of the darkest evenings I ever encountered, I got out of the road amongst some trees, the branches of which pulled me off, and my horse got away from me. It was a very cold frosty night in December, and, being unable to catch the mare, she remained out all night. Although accustomed to a warm stable, she took no cold whatever-a trifling inflammation of the trachea, arising from the inspiration of the cold and foggy atmosphere, being the only ill effects she received, and which was removed in a few days by the application of a stimulating liniment to the part affected. It was unquestionably owing to her having been clipped that she escaped so easily; her coat was dry, which it would not have been but for that operation. A horse encompassed by a volume of perspiration with which a long coat is saturated is like a man with wet clothes on, and the situation of both is dangerous.

It is not merely the fact of a clipped horse being so much sooner dressed on his return home, and the saving of labor to the strapper, as well as the increased period which he thereby obtains for rest, but he can do his work so much more easily to himself, because he does not sweat so profusely. No one would think of riding a hack in a full suit of clothing a long coat has much the same effect, with this disadvantage, that you cannot slip it off when his day's work is over, and the sweat must be suffered to dry upon him.

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The practice of singeing has its advocates, but it is not so effectual as clipping it does not eradicate a thick woolly coat, which is the worst of any, as it retains the moisture so long: the operation too is troublesome, and requires frequent repetition; whereas a horse clipped in November needs no more trouble.

Various opinions exist as to the best division of the stages which a horse should be ridden or driven when performing a long journey. This must in some degree be regulated by his condition. If he is fit to go, with a journey of a hundred and fifty miles to perform, and three days to do it in, I should divide the distances into twenty-five miles each, or as near as the accommodation on the road would permit, starting, especially in the summer time, early in the morning, and performing the first twenty-five miles before breakfast. This enables you to have your horse well dressed, and to afford him three or four hours rest; and if he will eat two quarterns of oats, and a quartern of beans

(which should be divided into two feeds), he will not take much harm. A moderate quantity of water must be given; at the same time it must be observed, that too much will cause most horses to scour, and likewise to sweat more profusely: therefore the less he has in reason the better till his day's work is completed, when he should have as much as he is inclined to take. Gruel is an excellent thing, but it is not readily procured, properly made, on the road: it should invariably be boiled, and I prefer it made with wheat-flour, as it remains longer on the stomach, and is less relaxing than when made with oatmeal. The usual method of preparing what they call gruel at inns is to mix oatmeal with warm water, in which state it is decidedly bad: its emollient quality is produced by boiling, and if I cannot procure it in that state, I prefer

water.

A lock of dry hay should be presented to the horse when he enters the stable. I recommend it dry for this reason. If it is made wet, a custom with some persons, the horse gives it two or three twists with his teeth, and, finding it sufficiently moist to be swallowed, he bolts it, and it passes into the stomach like a little wisp; but if dry, he is compelled to masticate it, the action of which produces a discharge of saliva, which cleanses the mouth much more effectually. For the same reason, the corn should never be made wet: a few go-downs of water given at intervals if the horse appears to refuse his corn from thirst, is a much better practice. The great secret in making a hack perform long journeys is not to ride or drive him too fast, especially at first starting, as it causes him to sweat profusely, which renders him faint and when he arrives at the stable he refuses his corn. A race-horse is seldom called upon to take a four or five miles gallop oftener than once in six or seven days, and a hack is frequently required to perform that distance at a good smart pace every day. There is certainly this difference, that the race-horse is usually worked with clothes on, which the hack is not; but hacks are very frequently compelled to go a distance of five or six miles at a pace which to them is nearly as severe as the pace at which many trainers sweat their horses is to the racehorse.

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Some attention should also be paid to the quantity of hay given to the horse previously to his being worked: this should be regulated by the distance and pace which he will be required to go. All these little things may appear unimportant, but they are essential to the animal's condition, and in fact to the comfort and interest of the rider. If a short and fast journey, such as going to covert, he should be kept rather short of hay over-night; but if a long journey is to be taken at a slow pace during the first five or six miles, a more liberal allowance will be beneficial.

Washing the legs and feet should never be neglected; and the gravel or sand should be carefully extracted from between the sole of the foot and the shoe whenever the horse stops to be fed. The pressure which it occasions, if suffered to accumulate, is exceedingly painful. Unless a hack has been ridden very fast, I prefer cold water to wash his legs and feet, as the bracing effect is very salutary. I know that some persons object to it on the supposition that it produces rheumatism; but when a horse comes in from a journey in the winter

his legs are generally as wet as they well can be, independently of which they are covered with mud and dirt; and often washing them, if circumstances will not allow of their being perfectly dried by the rubber, they will at all events become dry sooner than if an accumulation of dirt be suffered to remain on the limb. As a matter of course, I would prefer their being rubbed dry, but at inns you cannot always get it done. The use of the sponge to the nostrils, and such parts as are usually cleansed by that apparatus, adds much to the comfort of the animal, and should always be attended to when he comes into the stable.

The practice of stopping the feet with clay and cow-dung is now pretty much out of fashion. To most feet I am convinced that it is highly injurious: it rots the frog, and renders the sole too soft: the consequence of which is, if a horse happen to put his foot upon a stone, down he comes. Damp tow is unquestionably the best material, and a pad made with it will last a long time with care. This kind of stopping, however, should not be used too often, and, generally speaking, is more necessary after a journey than before it. As to its cooling effects upon the foot, it has very little influence: if such a remedy is required, it must be applied in a greater bulk than the capacity of the foot will contain, and must be applied externally if heat in the foot indicates internal inflammation: for this purpose wet pads made of strong linen tied round the hoof appear to be the best applications. Tar and grease, or tar and treacle, are excellent compositions, and such as most hacks require to keep their feet in good order. To such horses as have bad frogs, a melted application, and two or three times a-week, with a pad of tow sufficiently thick at the heel to produce pressure, is generally found serviceable, and will in time cure thrushes.

With the most decided objection to green food alone for anything in the shape of horse-flesh (brood mares and foals excepted), I invariably give a moderate portion in the summer mixed with hay, and I find the best effects from doing so it has a cooling operation, and the hay prevents its passing through the bowels too rapidly. It is necessary to have the hay and the green food very well mixed, or the horse will select the latter and leave the hay. It is scarcely necessary to add, that I never think of turning a horse out to grass under any circumstances. CECIL.

BLOOMSBURY LYRICS.

THE Lawyers are mounted, all ready for fray,
In this wonderful Liverpool race,

Sergeant Wilde steers The Corsair instead of John Day,

And Cresswell takes Templeman's place.

Alexander and Martin are ready for sport,

Baron Maule takes the Chair as the "tryer,"

Grooms, Joskeys, and Trainers flock into the Court,

To swear about Bloomsbury's sire!

First Cresswell led off at a terrible pace,

With the Sergeant all ready to mind him, And he firmly believed he was riding a race,

And though called to he ne'er "looked behind him.” Before him laid Stud Books, and Blackstone, and Coke,

In a terrible concatenation;

To a friend* at his elbow he frequently spoke,
Who furnished him horse information.

Of witnesses too he brought up his battalions,
Quite sufficient the Sergeant to swamp,
Right glibly he prated of mares and of stallions,
Voltaire, and Mulatto, and Tramp.

Then he spoke of Sheet Anchor and Liverpool too,
And then, not to stop in his march,

He canvass'd the Yorkshiremen's horses right through-
Velocipede, Saddler, and Starch.

He proclaim'd his fair client no treacherous dame,
And argued it was not a crime

To be mixed up with husbands-no slur on her fame
If she only had one at a time,

He affirm'd that his client, Miss Arcot, had given
To her old husband Tramp a rejection,
And that her child Bloomsbury only had been
The results of Mulatto's connection.

Sergeant Wilde then arose, and established a rule
Which made poor Mr. Weatherby quake,

As it clearly asserted he must be a fool,

And his Stud Book be all a mistake.

In the ears of the breeders like thunder it rung,
As it cancell'd each pedigree there,

And proved that all fillies and colts have been sprung
From a stallion, and got by a mare.

But while the poor Sergeant declared that with young
The womb of a stallion is full,

By placing too slender a guard on his tongue,
He delivered himself of a bull.

But however the Sergeant no efforts withheld,
And permitted his tongue thus to rattle,
The mistake was quite natural when he beheld
The witness's box filled by Cattle.

* Mr. Martin.