PERFORMING MULES.
A “COMIC” MULE.
Chief among circus attractions, especially in the eyes of the boys, are the trick or “comic” mules. A couple of these animals are attached to nearly every troupe, and quite a variety of tricks are performed by them. The performance usually the most eagerly looked forward to, is that reserved for the final part of the exhibition. The regular performances being concluded, one of the mules is retained in the ring and the ring-master invites some boy present among the audience to come forward and take a ride—if he can. There are generally plenty of eager respondents to this invitation, one of whom is permitted to enter the ring. The ring-master leads the mule up to the boy as though to assist him in mounting. If the boy is “green” he will probably be somewhat astonished, as soon as the mule is brought near him, at having the pit of his stomach made a target for the reception of the said mule’s heels. If he has already seen a similar performance he will have anticipated this little episode, which can always be calculated upon without fear of disappointment. After many struggles the boy perhaps succeeds in mounting the mule and then an amusing contest ensues between them—the boy’s efforts being directed to maintain his hold, and the mule’s to dislodge him. Running at full speed, the animal tries to throw his rider by stopping suddenly, and if successful in this attempt, the boy is either thrown head first among his companions, or, if he lands in the ring, is chased out by the mule.
It is rarely that any one succeeds in maintaining his hold for more than a few minutes, unless he is a capital rider, in which case he may be able to master the animal; should this result be at all likely, the ring-master will, on some pretext, interfere and select some less expert rider from the audience. Finally an attaché of the circus, disguised as a countryman, volunteers to ride the mule, and after considerable caricature riding, and ridiculous posturing, he concludes the performance.
Sometimes to enhance the interest in the affair a reward of five dollars is offered to any one who will ride the mule three times around the ring. This was usually done by Dan ——, a prominent circus manager. We were present on one occasion when a big burly “rough” entered the ring at Dan’s general invitation, to compete for the prize. The mule was particularly spunky but he was finally forced to succumb, and notwithstanding all Dan’s attempts to balk the rider, the mule was ridden the requisite number of times around the ring. Lest any of our readers should be led to cherish the delusion that they might thus earn a reward for displaying their mule breaking abilities, we may mention that, in this case at least, the rider did not receive the money. The showman assured him that the offer was only in fun and declined to hand over the amount. The rough thereupon “pitched in” and administered a thrashing to the showman before he could be prevented. A general fight was only averted by the exertions of the police. We believe Dan, while he remained in that locality, did not repeat his offer.
Very little special instruction is required for “comic mules.” The kicking part of the performance may be taught according to the instructions given for teaching horses the same act. The mule is allowed with strangers to give full vent to all the natural viciousness of his nature, and is encouraged therein. Toward his trainer, and those connected with the establishment, such conduct is not allowed. He soon learns from experience that the worst conduct toward boys in the ring is meritorious, and being annoyed by their persistent efforts to ride him, he resorts to every possible device, without requiring any instruction, to get rid of his tormentors.
Another humorous scene sometimes enacted by the mules is a prize fight, the principals being rigged up in costume and furnished with boxing gloves, while two small donkeys are made to seat themselves and hold sponges, as though personating the seconds. Sometimes this latter character is assumed by the clown and ring-master, though it makes little difference. The actions of the mules have a very slight resemblance to a combat and the costumes make them look funny and satisfy the audience. The training required is merely to make them stand erect.
AN ASININE PRIZE FIGHT.
Mules, though possessing less intelligence than horses, may be taught many of the tricks which the latter perform, and the same instructions will suffice for training them.
The sure-footedness of mules has enabled trainers to teach them, in several cases, a very effective and showy trick—that of walking over a number of empty bottles placed upright on a floor or platform. This feat is always highly successful wherever performed, and it is really an excellent one. The bottles used are large, stout porter bottles, which will readily sustain a great weight if placed directly on top. To teach the trick the bottles are at first secured in a platform composed of a double thickness of planks, in the upper one of which holes are cut. In these holes the bottles are placed; the bottoms resting on the lower layer of planks, while the upper one holds them securely in place.
Before teaching this trick the animal is usually taught the ordinary pedestal trick, as explained in a preceding chapter, as a preparatory lesson. He will then more readily acquire the bottle feat. He is first made to place one fore foot on top of a bottle’s neck, then the other fore foot on another. Then the first foot is tapped with the whip to make him raise it and advance it to the succeeding bottle; as he does this his hind foot is struck gently to force him to place it on the vacated bottle. Six or eight bottles are sufficient to commence with, additions being made as the animal becomes proficient. When the trick is learned it is unnecessary to secure the bottles in any way; if the mule places his foot squarely on the top, as he should be made to do, there is no danger of either breaking or upsetting them.
THE PORTER BOTTLE FEAT.
There is a trick related of a couple of English costermongers, or perambulating vegetable dealers, which is amusing if not of practical value. These two worthies were in the habit of passing their donkey through a Devonshire toll gate, on their return trip, free of charge, by making him walk through on his hind legs, arm in arm with them, and taking advantage of the twilight to represent him as a friend slightly under the influence of liquor!
At the south, where mules are almost universally used for many purposes for which horses are used at the north, the negroes are in the habit of directing their movements in many cases entirely by the voice. The animals of that section being as a rule more gently treated, are of a better disposition than their northern brethren. The course of training practiced by their stable masters is by no means systematic, but the animals manage by some means to learn to understand and obey the far from lucid commands. We have often been surprised to see how readily the mules would detect the meaning of what, to our ears, was entirely unintelligible. Probably practice had taught them what was required just as the mules which convey travelers through the wild mountain passes of Spain are reported to stop immediately upon hearing the hail of any of the banditti who infest those regions—habitual experience of the customs of those gentry having taught them to come to a stand still.
There is an amusing, though, possibly, not strictly authentic, story told in connection with the performance of the pantomime of Humpty Dumpty, some years ago, in this city. In this spectacle a small mule was made to appear quite comically by the dexterity of his heels. During the season the regular animal fell ill, and an amateur was substituted. When one of the characters touched the new mule to make him kick, he began in admirable style. He kicked off the fellow and kicked him twice before he touched the boards. Then he ran toward several of the other dramatis personæ, and kicked them. Every movable object on the stage, animate or inanimate, he kicked off. Next he began on the scenery. He kicked down a whole forest, three good sized cottages, a picturesque cascade, a granite prison, a robber’s cave, a royal palace, the Rialto and Vesuvius in eruption, and was about to attack the grand transformation scene from Midsummer Night’s Dream, when a rope was thrown around his neck, and he was dragged off by the whole strength of the company, assisted by all the able bodied supernumeraries. The audience, many of whom supposed the obstreperous mule part of the performance, were delighted at his energy, and demanded with deafening plaudits, a repetition of the scene. The uproar was so great that the manager came out and said that an intermission of fifteen minutes would be given to enable some of the actors to recover the breath that the active mule had kicked out of them, and pledged his honor that the brute should never make another appearance on the Olympic stage. At this the audience roared louder than ever, and for nearly half an hour the performance was suspended by the universal guffaw. Every night afterward while the piece ran, the kicking mule was called for, and the manager of the theater it is said, in consequence, had to insert an advertisement in the daily papers, stating that the animal was mysteriously knocked in the head the same night of his highly successful débût.
CHAPTER VII.
SOME HINTS FOR FARMERS—MANAGEMENT AND TRAINING OF ANIMALS ON THE FARM—SOME EVILS AND HOW TO REMEDY THEM—GOOD TRAINING VS. BAD.
Farmers would find it of great advantage to pay more attention to the education of their domestic animals. Many things may be taught them without any appreciable trouble, which will prove not only convenient, but profitable in the saving of time and labor that may be effected. For instance, any animal on the farm may be taught to come on being called, instead of requiring to be hunted for and chased home whenever wanted. All that is necessary is to give him some dainty as a reward, each time, and the thing will be accomplished almost before you are aware of it. By giving each animal a particular name and calling him by that, you teach each individual to come to you when wanted, and if you reward only the one you call, the others will soon learn to come only when desired. This custom is observed with the sheep in Greece; the shepherd has only to call any one he wants, and the animal will instantly leave its pasturage and its companions and run to the hand of the shepherd, with every token of pleasure. Those which have not learned their name are called “wild,” while the others are termed “tame.”
Animals cannot associate with man without learning something. Many of those habits and tricks which farmers deplore in their stock, are due to the unintentional training that has been given the animals. If your stock run from you, appear to dread your presence and can never be made to stand quietly, perhaps this state of things may be accounted for if you reply candidly to the question whether they have not been accustomed to tormenting or annoyance, and so taught to be wild. No wonder there is complaint of cows being unquiet, when the habit is so general of pelting them with stones, or punching them with sticks, while driving home to milk.
How often instead of attempting to teach the animals proper behavior do we see an apparently contrary course adopted? The “American Stock Journal” has some sensible remarks on this subject:
“We find many persons, when turning stock into or out of pasture, instead of letting down all the bars, leaving two or three of the lower rails in their place; and then, by shouting or beating, perhaps, force the animals to leap over. This is capital training, the results of which are seen in the after disposition of animals to try their powers of jumping where a top rail happens to be off, and this accomplished, to set all fences at defiance, and make a descent upon the corn or grain field, as their inclination, ability or hunger may prompt them. Another good lesson is to open a gate but a little way, and then, as in the case of the bars, force the cattle forward, and by threats and blows compel them to pass through it. The result of this teaching is shown in the determined spirit manifested by some cattle to make a forcible entry into the stable, yards, fields, or in fact, to almost every place where a gate or door may, by accident, be left slightly open. A western farmer says he makes it a rule whenever cattle are made to pass a fence, whether through bars or ‘slipgap,’ to leave one rail for them to pass under. This gives them a downward tendency, and lessens their inclination to jump or look upward, as they are sure to do when a lazy attendant throws down a part of the rails, and makes them vault the rest. Cattle may be taught to go over any fence by the careful training they often get for this end, performed as follows: First, starve them or give them poor feed, which will make them light and restless. As soon as they go over the lowest part of the fence after better provender, make them jump back again, and put on one more rail, saying, ‘I guess that will keep them out.’ Next day, (of course they will be in mischief again) repeat the process, adding another rail; in a short time they will take care of themselves, and harvest the crops without charge.”
That gentleness and good treatment will subdue even naturally unamiable dispositions in animals, is shown by the example of the bulls intended for the bull fights at Havre during the marine exhibition in 1868. The bulls, selected for their ferocity on the plains of the Guadalquiver, were so kindly treated by the railway servants during their journey across Spain and France, that, on arriving at their destination, they had become perfectly tame and could not be induced to fight. The sight-seers were obliged to solace themselves with a regatta in lieu of their anticipated combat.
It may be interesting here to refer briefly to the proper management of bulls. There has been some discussion as to whether or not it is advisable to use bulls for purposes of draught. The advocates of the plan consider that a bull should do some labor and that exercise would be beneficial. The opponents say that the main object of keeping bulls is to breed, and that exhaustive labor would impair the vigor of the descendants. Though the latter is probably the true case bulls should be exercised in the open air if it is desired to keep them in health and vigor. They should always have a ring inserted through the nose that they may be held in control, but they should never be tied up by anything attached to this ring. Always use a rope tied around the horns; a sudden jerk is very apt to tear the ring from the nose. Never fool with bulls, and beware of trusting yourself in their power. They are subject to sudden fits of fierceness, when any defenceless person is liable to be horribly destroyed.
One of the most important duties on the farm is the breaking of steers. It is best to begin with them as calves, and let the boys play with them, and drive them tied or yoked together, taking care they are not abused. When a pair of old steers are to be put together and broken to the yoke, or a pair of bulls, as not unfrequently happens, it is usually best to yoke them, and tie their tails together, in an extempore stall, in a well fenced yard, and then turn them loose in the yard, which should not be large enough for them to run in and get under much headway. If the tails are not tied together they will frequently turn the yoke, which is a very bad habit. After half a day’s association, the lesson of “gee up!” and “whoa!” may be inculcated—and when well learned, probably the next day, “haw” and “gee.” The daily lesson should be given after they have stood yoked a while. They should not be taken from the yard until they have become used to the yoke, and are no longer wild and scary, as they are apt to be at first. Each day all previous lessons should be repeated. Put them before an ox-sled or a pair of cart wheels at first, rather than to a stone boat, as they are apt to step on the chain, and that frightens them. All treatment should be firm but mild, and no superfluous words should be employed.
As regards training heifers, a Pennsylvania farmer who has trained and milked heifers for more than fifty years, and never has any trouble about their jumping, kicking, or running, gives the following as his secret: “When I intend to raise a heifer calf for a milch cow, I always raise it by hand, and when feeding, frequently handle it by rubbing it gently over the head and neck until it becomes tame and gentle. The rubbing is begun at the first feeding with milk, and continued until I quit feeding it; I never afterward have any trouble about milking them.”
CHAPTER VIII.
DOGS IN GENERAL—WATCH DOGS—THE SHEPHERD’S DOG.
Among all the animals the dog seems preëminently intended by nature for the companion and friend of man. Even the instinctive passions all animals have for their own kind appear to be in a measure sacrificed to human influence, for the dogs often care more for the society of man than for that of their own kind. Not only is the dog a trusty and valuable friend and associate of man, but the companionship between the human and the canine races developes in the latter many of those noble qualities not possessed under other circumstances. The Turks look upon the dog with abhorrence, and almost universally in the East he is an outcast from human society. The consequence is that all his good qualities are lost; he is no longer the faithful companion, ready to defend his master with his life, but on the contrary, he is deceitful, bloodthirsty, and as unlike the more favored dog of other countries as it is possible to imagine.