An attempt to depict the small size of the transparent fluid, indicating the existence of a sinus, when it appears at the wound whence issues the stream of thick and creamy pus.
Cut a small twig from the stable broom; this is pliable, and, where a sinus is concerned, makes the best possible probe. With a knife, render it perfectly clean, as well as round or blunt at one end; then, while an assistant holds up the foot, insert it in the center of the dark fluid. If it should not at first detect an opening, you must not give up the trial; the probe must be moved about, and even a smaller one procured. A sinus does exist; of that you have positive proof; the pipe being found, mix some powdered corrosive sublimate with three times its bulk of flour; then wet the probe; dip the probe into the powder and afterward insert it into the sinus. Do this several times till you feel certain that every portion of the pipe is brought in contact with the caustic.
The horse, subsequently, will become very dull; the foot will grow very painful: thus it will continue for two days. About the third day, a white, curd-like matter is discharged from the orifice. The lameness disappears, and the spirits are regained.
It is against our inclination to publish such directions; but the author has knowledge of no gentler or more speedy measure. The better plan for the gentleman who is tender of his servants' feelings, and infinitely the cheaper for the person who is regardful of his pocket, is to have every animal inspected by a qualified veterinary surgeon so soon as it displays acute lameness. Were such the practice, corn, prick of the foot, or wound of the coronet need not run on to quittor. That is an affection which loudly pronounces man to utterly disregard the welfare of his most willing slave. It always originates in neglect. It always requires time for its development. It springs from that idle and silly maxim which, when a horse falls lame, treats the circumstance as though the honest animal were shamming, and teaches a hard-hearted proprietor to work the poor drudge sound again.
CANKER.
Thrush is a disease that causes a certain liquid to be secreted which has the property of decomposing the horn. Canker is a disease which not only is attended with a liquid having a like property, but the last-named affection also causes fungoid horn to be secreted. Canker, therefore, appears to be an aggravation of thrush; and anybody who has been much among the animals of the poorer classes may have observed these diseases lapse into each other: thrush will, through neglect, become canker.
Thrush appears to be the commencement of the disorganization of the food. Canker is the total perversion of the secreting powers belonging to the same organ. In thrush, a foul humor having a corruptive property is poured forth. In canker, something is superadded to this. The horn itself is sent forth in large quantity as a soft, unhealthy material, totally divested of elasticity and devoid of all healthy resistance.
Any animal, being exposed to the exciting cause, may exhibit thrush; but, before canker seems capable of being produced, poor living must have undermined the constitution. Old horses—pensioners, as they are humanely termed—when turned out to grass, frequently have canker, which otherwise should be confined to the animals of poverty, on which bad lodging, no grooming, stinted food, and hard work produce sad effects. The stable in which a case of canker occurs is lamentably disgraced. Every attendant in it ought to be discharged, as the surest evidence of a gross want of industry is thereby afforded.
A horse, perhaps once the pride of the favorite daughter, may descend to be the hack of some bawling dust collector. Its wants increase as age progresses; but with the accumulation of years its hardships augment. It is sad, very sad, to stand within the shed of some corn-chandler, and witness, as the day draws in, ragged boys advance and shout out, "Three pen'orth o' 'ay bunds." Upon those hay-bands it is even more sad to reflect what creature will be obliged to subsist—probably the darling once of some aristocratic children! Now, cramped and diseased, it may receive no other food between this time and the following evening. The diet being meager, all the rest is on a parallel. The wretched animal is purchased only for such a space as it may pull through before it passes to the knackers. Every day of life is looked upon as a clear gain, for the carcass may be sold for very nigh the price which has been paid for the living body. The commonest attention is denied; its bed is filth, and its nightly hay-bands are cast upon the flooring.
What, the humane reader may inquire, can be done to prevent such a state of things? Something surely might be accomplished. To make men good, it is first necessary to educate them by communicating knowledge and also by preventing the commission of wickedness. Were the sanitary laws enforced in their spirit, no man would keep an animal who had not proper accommodation for the creature he possessed as a property. A horse or a donkey consumes much more air than any human being. The air ejected from the lungs of a quadruped is deprived of all life-sustaining qualities. The filth of a stable is as corruptive as any cess-pool connected with a laborer's cottage. The atmosphere which can in the horse engender disease cannot promote health in the superior animal. Yet how does it happen that, while sanitary reports are eloquent upon filth and fluent about cess-pools—while they descant learnedly upon foul abodes, and enter into all particulars concerning corrupted atmosphere—the close, contaminated stables in which all costermongers, and some gentlemen, shut up their drudges when the labor of the day is over, are never alluded to, are altogether abjured, as though such nuisances had no existence?