A HORSE QUIDDING, OR ALLOWING THE FOOD
TO FALL FROM ITS MOUTH SUBSEQUENT TO MASTICATION.
A horse with toothache upon certain days sweats and labors at its work; saliva hangs in long bands from the under lip; the countenance is utterly dejected; the head is carried on one side or pressed against some solid substance, as a wall. The food is "quidded"—that is, it is partially masticated, when, from acute agony, the jaws relax, the teeth separate, the lips part, and the morsel falls from the mouth, more or less resembling what is termed "a quid of tobacco."
Upon other days the animal is bounding with life and spirits; the movements are light, and the motions are expressive of perfect happiness. The head is carried jauntily; the lips are compressed; the saliva ceases to exude; the food is devoured with an evident relish, and the general health appears to be better than it was before the strange disease. The continuance of such bliss is, however, very doubtful; the different stages will often succeed one another with vexatious rapidity.
If nothing be done, the horse alternates between anguish and happiness for an unascertained period, when all acute symptoms apparently cease. The lips, though no longer actually wet, are not positively dry; the food is often eaten; but as time progresses a sort of gloom hangs about the animal, and deepens every day. The horse seems never free from some unaccountable torture; more time is now occupied in clearing the manger; then the hay may be consumed, but the oats remain untouched. These last are found soaked in apparent water; the fluid turns out to be saliva; the symptoms by degrees become more severe; a strangely unpleasant odor characterizes the breath; the flesh wastes, and the animal ultimately exhibits hide-bound.
This stage being attained, and the proprietor becoming much perplexed, he is one morning informed by the groom, who displays many nods and winks, of a certain mysterious receipt for a wonderful ball that never fails, but always cures. The potent bolus is sent for to the chemist, and, after sundry explanations, is compounded. The groom, stiff with pride, takes the magic morsel; it is pushed rapidly into the horse's mouth; an exclamation from the man follows the disappearance of the hand, which is retracted bathed in blood.
A MOLAR TOOTH HAS BECOME VERY LONG FROM
THE WANT OF ATTRITION IN THE OPPOSING JAW.
To afford time for the writer to explain this incident, the reader must vouchsafe some patience. The horse's molar teeth are miniature grindstones. To supply the wear and tear of so violent a service, the molar teeth, originally, have enormous fangs, and, as the eating surface is worn away, the fangs are thrust into the mouth by the contraction of the jaw-bones.