roughbred, or even well-bred horses, for I have found it to exist in
its worst form only among half-breds, and especially among those which
have hackney blood in their veins. As a rule, a bad-tempered
thoroughbred does not sulk, he fights openly, says his say, like an
irritated master or mistress, and, having relieved his mind, lets the
matter drop, and does not nurture it up for future use, like the
servants in the kitchen. My advice to any lady who is trying to win the
regard of a sullen brute of this class, would be to give up the task as
hopeless, get rid of him, and expend her kindness on an animal more
worthy of it. No horse that will not "chum" with you, by ready obedience
without asserting himself at every step he takes, is worth his keep, and
it is no pleasure to either man or woman to ride such animals, however
excellent both the rider's temper and horsemanship may be.

I would recommend any lady who is about to purchase a horse, to do her
best to find out, not only if the animal is quiet, but if his former
owner was also amiable, and on no account to buy a horse which has been
spoiled by a bad-tempered man, or woman, supposing that any of my sex is
sour-tempered, which I very much doubt, unless, of course, she had been
spoiled by a vicious male! We should bear in mind that absolute
perfection, either among humans or equines, is unattainable, and, as
Jorrocks points out: "If his 'oss is not so good as he might be, let him
cherish the reflection that he might have been far worse!"

I think that the native syces of India, like the Russian _ishvoshik_
(cabman), treat their equine charges with far greater sympathy and
kindness than our English grooms and cab-drivers do. In India we ride
stallions; my grey Arab, Fig. 7, was an entire, and was so kind and
gentle that he was always most careful not to tread on his syce who
slept in his box with him, rolled up in a corner, like a bundle of old
clothes. When Gowlasher, which was the man's name, groomed him, the pony
would playfully catch his arm between his teeth and make a pretence of
biting it, but he never allowed his teeth to hurt the skin. Gowlasher
liked to show me the funny little tricks of this animal; but if Freddie
had attempted to touch the arm of an English groom, he would have been
promptly struck across the muzzle, because his playfulness would have
been misunderstood.

It is not the custom in this country to hunt or hack stallions, which
are often led