their way home the youths met Mr. Webb, the gentleman who had given them so much advice relative to the training of Rover and Dash. They told him about their father's promise and he congratulated them on their good fortune.
As they were separating Mr. Webb told them he had just received a letter from an old friend, George M. Elwood, of Rochester, New York, who was like himself a great lover of dogs. “He tells me an interesting story about a dog,” said Mr. Webb, “and I know you will enjoy it. Dogs and horses go together,” he continued, “and this dog story will equal any horse story that you are likely to hear.”
So saying he drew a letter from his pocket and read the following extract:
“About the year 1840 my father, James L. Elwood, then living in Rochester, N. Y., owned a very fine dog that enjoyed a considerable degree of local celebrity.
He rejoiced in the ambitious name of Bonaparte, being familiarly called 'Boney,' which latter name described him very nearly, for he was a monster, standing over thirty inches high at the shoulder. In markings and make-up he is said to have closely resembled Landseer's 'Distinguished Member of the Humane Society.' He was remarkable for his intelligence as well as his unvarying good temper and was a prime favorite with young and old in the then little city, especially among children, toward whom he, in common with most members of his race, exhibited great affection and devotion.
“Among those who bear this noble animal in affectionate remembrance, many stories are still told illustrating his unusual sagacity and reasoning powers. The possession of this latter faculty by dogs is, I know, doubted by many, who ascribe all evidence of it to 'instinct,' whatever that may be besides reason, but that it does exist and manifests itself by the same processes that it does in the human animal, every true lover of a good dog religiously believes and mantains.
“The following incident will serve to illustrate 'Boney's' thinking' faculty, and I may say, parenthetically, that the facts herein given are thoroughly vouched for by those who remember the circumstances in detail. My father was, at that time, engaged in a banking office located, on the Court-house Square. In those more honest times bank robbery had not reached its present degree of refined skill, and it was the habit of his associate and himself, on going to dinner at mid-day, simply to turn the key in the safe, leaving the bank open, with no other guard than 'Boney,' who remained on duty until their return.
“One day, during this noon hour, two well known business men and customers of the bank chanced to meet on the side-walk in front of the office. They had some business transaction, in which one wished to pay the other a considerable sum of money. It was proposed to step into the bank, where, outside of the counter, was a table with, chairs for the convenience of customers, and there complete the transaction, which was accordingly done. While one of the gentlemen was engaged in writing a receipt, the other produced a large package of bank bills and proceeded to count out the required sum. 'Boney' got up from where he was lying, and, knowing both of the gentlemen, came over to where they were sitting, wagging his huge brush in friendly recognition and stood watching their proceedings. When the first gentleman had finished counting the bills, he pushed them across the table to the second, saying 'There, I think you will find that right.' At that moment the dog lifted his huge paw and laid it squarely on the pile of bills. There was no demonstration of unfriendliness on his part, but a quiet air of such firm determination that neither gentleman felt inclined to meddle further with the money. In vain they coaxed and ordered him to 'Go lie down, sir!' and there the three sat for nearly an hour. At the end of that time, to the infinite relief of at least two of the trio, my father came in, and as soon as he reached the table, 'Boney' took down his paw as quietly as he had placed it there and went back to his accustomed rug. The money was paid and receipt passed without any farther attention on his part, and the gentlemen departed, their annoyance at the awkward delay in their affairs entirely cancelled by their admiration for the dog's sagacity.
“Now I do not presume to infer that 'Boney' really knew the value of the money, as such, but he did understand that it was a commodity which was not allowed to change hands in that office except in the presence of some duly authorized representative of the bank. I think any one, who accepts the fact, will be prepared to believe that the dog recognized his duty, as he understood it, to firmly insist that no money should be transferred until the return of some duly accredited and responsible party.”
CHAPTER II.
Pitting up the Stables—Loose Boxes and their Uses—Stable Fittings—Light, Ventilation and Drainage—Cobweb and Major—How to tell a Horse's Age—Do Horses understand Language?—Starting a balky Horse—The Horse that knew the Doxology—Horses telling Time by the Clock—Famous Horse Trainers: Rarey, Gleason, and Sullivan the Whisperer—How Cruiser was Tamed—Horse-breaking in Texas—“Creasing” Wild Horses.
Mr. Graham told his boys they might fit up the stable for their horses in whatever way suited them best; he gave them this permission in the confident belief that they would thereby be led to learn more about the animals and their needs than if the stables were turned over to them already fitted. The correctness of his judgment was shown by the earnestness with which the youths proceeded to inform themselves on the subject.
“There's plenty of room in the stable,” said Charley, “and so we'll have a 'loose box' for our horses in addition to the ordinary stalls. Mr. Sidney says it is desirable to have one box for every two stalls and therefore one box will be enough for us.”
“How large shall the box be?” George asked.
“Not less than twelve feet by fourteen if we have the space for it,” was the reply, “but even a much smaller box is better than none at all. Where space is limited one of the stalls may be made into a box by putting a gate across the end of it. A space large enough for a horse to turn around in, so Mr. Sidney says, is of great advantage sometimes to a sick, or very tired horse, or to one that is obliged to be idle several days at a time. When horses are in good health and steady use they haven't much need of boxes, and as we propose to keep our horses healthy and use them, too, one box will be enough for both of us.”
Then came the question of ventilation, which did not require a long debate. The youths were agreed at the start that horses as well as other animals require plenty of light and air; Mr. Graham had been of the same opinion before them, and had built his stable upon intelligent principles. It was on a dry foundation, was well drained, no unsavory gutters or sewers near it, and the windows were numerous and well arranged. He had taken especial pains with the windows and his orders to the grooms were very strict as to the proper ventilation of the stable.
“Unless you watch the grooms closely,” said Mr. Graham to Charley, “you'll very likely find them keeping the windows of the stable closed when they should be open. Grooms like to heat their horses into a condition of moisture in order to give their coats a silky appearance, and their best way of doing this is to keep the windows closed and the air foul. The colonel of an English regiment has said on this subject that the horses of his command live in stables that
