New hay of any kind is objectionable for feeding purposes, but I consider that the year’s growth is quite fit and wholesome in November.
Clover hay—that is, first-crop clover—is excellent for mixing with upland; it is largely interspersed with grass, the stems are fine, and the leaves untinged by blackness, the flowers, though dried and faded, are abundant throughout it, and retain much of their original colour. Second-crop clover is not nearly so desirable; it may be known by a coarse, strong flavour when put in the mouth, by the big stems, the dingy appearance, and the noticeable blackness of the leaves.
I do not approve of giving too much hay of any kind to horses; a superabundance is apt to make them pot-bellied, and unfit for hard work. Hunters, however, that get nothing else for their mid-day meal, ought, when in the stable, to be fed with sufficient quantity to make up for the absence of more substantial food.
Ready-cut chaff ought never to be purchased; all sorts of things find their way into it, just as is said to be the case with cheap sausages!
Boiled barley is excellent food for horses. I have seen some splendid youngsters that were fed on nothing else, save the trifling addition of a very small portion of upland hay.
Gruel, if given, should be as carefully prepared as though made for the human subject; the neglect of this caution is the cause of so many grooms thrusting heavy feeds before exhausted horses, and averring that the animals “will not drink gruel.” No wonder that they reject it, when the stuff so-named is merely a bucketful of hot water with a handful or two of oatmeal stirred into it. My experience of horses has not been a small one, and I can candidly say that I have never yet seen even the most wearied or delicate animal reject a properly prepared mess of gruel.
To make a good mash, allow at least a quartern of oats and a pint of linseed—these to be boiled for three hours or upwards, and then mixed with as much bran as will make it of a proper damp consistency, but not a wet slop, or yet a dry poultice. It should be given rather warm, and a little salt is an excellent addition. A delicate or ailing animal that will not eat his mash may often be tempted by putting a little treacle or sugar into it.
A horse’s supply of water ought never to be limited. On this I shall touch in my next chapter, in conjunction with stable appliances and drinking-troughs. To drink plentifully is a symptom of good health. Very cold water is not advisable for horses; a handful of hay will take the chill off, or a little meal thrown in. Nitre should never under any pretext be added to the drink. Soft water is the best for stable uses; if this cannot be conveniently procured, hard water may be considerably softened by boiling, with the addition of about half an ounce of carbonate of soda to every pailful of liquid.
I strongly advocate variety of feeding for horses. My own hunters were trained to eat and relish almost everything—except, perhaps, codfish, on which the Newfoundlanders bring up their horses wonderfully well! Mine were given turnips, peas, potatoes (both boiled and raw), apples, pears, parsnips, patent horse biscuits, great armfuls of cowslips and fresh soil, bread, and oatcake—in short, more things than I can possibly enumerate. They were great pets, and I loved to take little dainties out to them—a few nice ripe plums, with the stones removed, a handful of sugar, a crisp biscuit or two, or a juicy apple or pear. Such joy, such whinnying, such turning of beautiful heads, such licking of grateful lips, such playful searchings for more, and brightening of lustrous eyes, and such romps together in the clean, fresh, crisp straw, with mutual kissings, and rubbings, and fondlings of all sorts. My heart is sad when I think of them—even though I know that they are made much of and are well cared in other homes—and though so many joys are spared to me in mine.
In conclusion, let me advise all who are determined to maintain a prejudice against cooked food, or whose limited stable accommodation may not admit of the erection of even the most simple contrivance for cooking it, to procure a corn-crusher and see that it is made good use of. To purchase such an article, and then allow it to stand idle in the stable is a course of procedure somewhat similar to that adopted by Lever’s West-countryman, who bought himself a new coat, and said it was “a fine thing to sit lookin’ at on a Sunday morning.”