He says there are dozens of simple things that can be resorted to, and no harm be done to either man or beast.
I remember a balky horse that used sometimes to be in the livery barn in the city.
He said that when quite young he was often overloaded, and when he failed to pull they pounded him.
By-and-by, he said, it got so that, when loaded even moderately, he would get so nervous for fear he could not pull it and he would be pounded, that, in spite of himself, he would stop; and so it came about that the balkiness grew on him.
Another said he used to be balky until his present owner bought him, and that it came on him in much the same way as the other described.
Nervousness seemed to paralyze his limbs, and all he could think of was that he couldn't go, he knew he couldn't, and he might as well let them beat him first as last.
"After a while," said he, "this kind man bought me, but, of course, I did not know then that he was kind, and the first time he hitched me up I balked. I did not want to; indeed, I was anxious that he should think well of me, so anxious that it made me nervous.
"Naturally I expected a pounding, and when it did not come, nor anything else, I looked around to see what he was about. There that man sat on a stump whittling, and presently he began to whistle.
"I concluded I had made some sort of a mistake, and, while wondering what it all meant, my nervousness passed off, and when he said kindly: 'Well, Ross, are you ready to start?' I moved off briskly. Only once or twice since that have I balked at all, and then only for a minute. Master's voice is so kind and encouraging, and I know he won't require more of me than I am able to perform."