illars in the manege; both teach the horse the same lesson, namely,
that when urged up to the bit--that is, when urged and retained at the
same time--these contradictory indications mean that he is required to
collect himself. Anything which facilitates the understanding of this
bit of information is of infinite value; for the colt, like the satyr in
the fable, is apt to kick against this blowing hot and blowing cold at
the same time. Mount the colt, and try these opposite indications; he
will do anything but obey them, anything but collect himself. If you
insist, he will resist. He will end in overt acts of rebellion, or at
least in dogged sulks; and that from not understanding, or not choosing
to obey your _aids_, not from want of suppleness. Let art supple the
temper and understanding of the colt, and leave nature to supple his
limbs. By holding the colt's head against a wall by the chin-strap, he
may be made to pass sideways to either hand by showing him the whip. He
should also be taught to rein back; this is best done in a narrow
gangway. The leaping-bar is a good exercise of obedience. The bar itself
should be only six feet long; the posts which support it should be four
feet six inches high; the side-rails thirty feet in length, and they
should slope down to three feet; they should rest on the tops of the
posts, and be flush with them, and perfectly smooth, so that the long
cord may pass freely over them without catching. The colt should walk
half way up the gangway, thence a slow trot. Pass the reins of the
snaffle through the left eye of the snaffle, and fasten the long cord to
them. Hold the right rein close to where it passes through the eye, it
will clasp the lower jaw like a slip-knot and give you great power. All
over-fresh horses should be led in this way; without it a horse will
pull with the top of his head with force sufficient to beat any man.
Keep the bar low, or even on the ground, as long as the horse is
nervous.

The whole affair of colt-breaking is an affair of patience, you cannot
have too much forbearance: put off the evil day of force. Forgive him
seventy times seven times a-day, and be assured that what does not come
to-day will to-morrow. The grand thing is to get rid of dogged sulks and
coltishness; of that wayward, swerving, hesitating gait, which says,
"here's my foot, and there's my foot;" or, "there is a lion in the
street, I cannot go forth." This is the besetting sin of colts; and thi