At the expiration of about an hour white flannel bandages should, however, be substituted for the coarse ones, under which the dirt will then be found to crumble away like warm sand.
If his ears (the opposite extremities or antipodes of his legs) have become cold, circulation therein should be restored by the groom quietly rubbing them with a cloth; and as soon as they are dry, and the animal what is called "comfortable," a pailful of warm gruel given to him at intervals, a bran mash, a rackful of hay, a clean stall, some chilled water, and a fresh bed, will do all that is possible to procure for him a night's rest, free from fever; and this vital object having been accomplished, the next day he may receive without injury, and indeed with great benefit, his usual allowance of the best oats and beans.
Now, in contrast to the mode of treatment just described, we will endeavour to offer to our readers a similar sketch of that which, especially by what are termed "fast men" (possibly because "lucus à non lucendo" they make it a rule never to "fast" or abstain from any thing they desire to do), is usually adopted.
After the run is over, while one sturdy hound that all the rest seem to be afraid of is stealing straight away with the poor fox's head, and while another at his utmost speed, chased by several, is meandering through the pack with a lump of unsavoury, very dirty fur in his mouth, groups of riders, some sitting astride, some like pretty ladies with a right leg hanging over the saddle's pommel, some with cambric handkerchiefs mopping moist heads and red faces, and some adjusting mustachios, are to be seen reciting to each other incidents aqueous, terrestrial, and amphibious, of the run. Here and there, one of the most handsome, as he talks, leans forward for a moment to pat the neck of his thorough bred animal in grateful acknowledgment of the particular feat he is describing.
In what is considered by all to be hardly a quarter of an hour, (for when men sit conversing about themselves, they little know how fast old father Time gallops), this joyous conversazione ends by the talkers, after giving to each other here and there a farewell nod, radiating in masses along roads, or across a fence or two, to gain the road that leads to their respective homes; but as, by this time, in almost every mouth a newly-lighted cigar happens to be gleaming, they resume their talk as they walk towards an object described at the back of the head of almost every one, in the humane words "gruel for my horse," to be obtained, not exactly at the first farm, but at the first great town, be it even half a dozen or so, miles off.
On reaching the best hotel, at which there is seldom hot water enough ready for all the cavalcade, the horses are handed over to that lot of idle attendants who, some out of the stable and some from the bar, greedily rush forward to grasp their bridles. "Gruel" is most kindly ordered for them all; but as it is voted that there is no great necessity to see them drink it, the landlord's smiling invitation is accepted, and in a few minutes, by one of those extraordinary contingencies that nobody could have anticipated, each gentleman rider is to be seen, in high glee and good-humour, sipping from a tumbler (which for some quaint reason or other happens to contain a silver spoon) something that is evidently very wet and very warm. Alas! little thinking that his poor faithful horse, whose performances he had so lately been describing, with cold clammy ears is shivering, chilled by having just drank too freely of "a summut," without a spoon in it, that was wet and cold.
On mounting, and clattering out of the paved yard of the hotel, most of the riders fancy they are all the better—many of their horses feel that they are all the worse for the half hour's rest and "gruelling" that was ordered for them. But although the quadrupeds leave behind them the fatal pail, the silver spoon has apparently accompanied the bipeds, who, like the favoured children of Fortune, are, externally as well as internally, under the influence of ardent spirits.
All thoroughly happy, they think neither of their horses nor their homes; but, according to the subject of their conversation, and the state of their cigars, they walk, trot, sometimes very slow, and sometimes very fast, until, on coming to a portion of the road bounded by grass, although their poor horses have had an overdose of both excitement and of heavy ground, they touch them with their spurs, to re-enjoy, for a short distance, a hand-gallop.
In short, travelling at what may either be described as "every pace," or "no pace at all," they unnecessarily excite and fatigue their horses; and yet, after all, though undoubtedly "fast men," they are often considerably more than an hour longer in getting home than if they had proceeded at a slow, quiet, steady, but unceasing rate.
On reaching this goal the poor horse who, from eight o'clock in the morning, has been working on an empty stomach, is led by his bridle to his stable. The rich man prepares himself for his dinner. Since he breakfasted, at a quarter before nine in the morning, he has, at a low average, enjoyed the slight intoxication of very nearly a cigar per hour, besides certain refreshments which he brought out with him, and the few crumbs of comfort at the hotel at which he stopped to give "gruel" to his horse.