Rensselaer Union, Volume 9, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 May 1877 — Wonderful feats of the Horse. [ARTICLE]

Wonderful feats of the Horse.

•otM^lfcelr>oiwr*ef''simulation with a view to entertain spectators went (hr beyond what anyone could expect whose knowledge is confined to the ordinary daw of tones. We will mention a few paiticalan regarding the hones of Antley's as they occur to our memory. One evening the performance represent od a house on (ire. All the inhabitants of the dwelling had managed to escape except a lady tn the upper story. You saw her at a window throwing about her arms wildly, and screaming for help. Her appeals to the assembled crowd 'beneath wore heart-rending. The firemen could not reach her, for the stair was seemingly in s blaze, and there was no fire-escape. The spectators in the theater wgre wrought up to an agony, it being but too evident that the poor lady was doomed to perish by s painful and violent death. In the midst of the commotion a horse, which belonged to the lady, rushed upon the stage. In its stable it bad heard the screams of its mistress, and hastened to do Us best to save her. Without bridle or saddle it was seen to rush into the house and to climb the stair amidst flames and volumes of smoke. It reached the apartment where the lady was. She mounted on iu back, holding by the mane, and the horse, descending the stair, brought her safety to the ground. Prolonged shouts of applause rewarded the hazardous exploit. The whole thing was a beautiful piece of acting, evoking throughout sentiments of pleasure and admiration. Nothing but kindness and long training could have made the horse so clever in knowing what to do, and to do it well. The feat was the more surprising as horses usually havs a dread of fire which is not easily conquered. It will l>e under*to id that the tire bad been so adroitly managed as to effect no injury oc the theater; and there never had been any real danger. On another evening at Astley's a still more remarkable piece of acting by a white horse named Prince was offered for public entertainment. It was in a play called the “High-Mettled Racer.” The pl y was ia several successive acts, and designed to represent different stages of degradation in the career of a horse from youth to old age. The spectacle was painful but touching, and unfortunately in too many cases true to nature. We shall endeavor to describe some of the scenes. When die piece opens we have a view of an English country mansion. In front there are several mounted huntsmen in scarlet coats ready to set out on a foxchase. They are waiting till a young lady comes out of the mansion to accompany them. We see the lady, who is oroperly equipped for riding, descend the steps at the doorway, and by the aid of a groom mount a young and beautifullyshaped white horse that is in readiness for her. tihe speaks to it affectionately, and calls it her dear Prince. The elegant form of the animal, its proud hearing, its glossy coat, and the spirited way It prances about, excite general admiration. After a little galloping to show its paces, the home with its fair rider goes oil' with the huntsmen and hounds in pursuit of a fox—that was also a taught actor in its way—-which leads the party through a variety of difficulties, such as climbing up rocks, leaping over hedges, and so forth, till at length, on the point of being run down, it dashes into the cottage of a poor oid woman, who humanely gives it shelter. Site takes up the for lovingly in her arms and saves it from seemingly impending destruction. That may be called the first stage in the horse’s career, during which rtince4*as well attended to and happy.

At the beginning of the next act the horse is to appearance several years older, and is no longer lit for racing or hunting. The lady, its first owner, had been, from some circumstances, compelled to part with it. From its swiftness in run ning it had been purchased to ran at celebrated Lor se-races, at which it had, bn several occasions, won prizes, and its sprightliness obtained for it the name of the iligh-Mi tiled Racer. Alter this, it was transferred from one owner to another, always in a descending scale, un til poor Prince is seen in the condition of a cab-horse in the streets of London. It has somewhat the look of its former state, but is terribly broken down in figure and spirit. Its plump and glossy appearance is gone. It is dirty and dejected, it hangs its head droopingly down. Its ribs shine through its skin. Its joints are stiff. It stands on three legs, with the other leg resting on the point at the foot, just as we see cab-horses trying to rest their aching limbs when standing in a row for hire. What a wretched downcome from that which Prince had enjoyed in “life's young dream!” There awaits it, however. a still lower depth of miseiy.

in the following act Prince is reduced to the forlorn condition of drawing a sand cart, when it can hardly draw its own legs after it To appearance it is half-starved. A child offers it a few straws, which it is glad to eat. It seems to be a little better than skin and bone. The cart in which it is yoked belongs to a rode jobber, whose object is to wring the utmost possible work out of the animal before selling it to be killed. A, feeling of horror and compassion thrills through the spectators. They can hardfr believe that they are onh looking at a play, for the simulation is perfect. Staggering along with its draught, under the cruel urging of the whip, the moment arrivos when Prince can go uo farther, its unhappy span of life is terminated. If suddenly drops down under its weary load—to die and be relieved of all its troubles. Unyoked from the cart, and relieved of its harness, there it is stretched out, with a crowd of idlers about it, seemingly in the last gasp, and offering in its fate a dreadful instance of undeserved cruelty to animals. “ Man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands mourn." Qoitetrae;but, alas! inhuman aty to man is nothing in compnrison with -the inhumanity which to recklessly exercised Seward the hone. -if?" > There to a concluding scene in the life of the horse we have been describing which must on no account be omitted. While lying in'tbe street in its deathstruggle, and when preparations were to drag it off to the shambles, a lady who is passing recognizes the dying animal as being her favorite hone Prince, which she hud ridden yean ago at the fox-chase. At the same time the poor husLfaintly lifting his head, recognizes its old mistress, abd with failing eyes seems to implore her compassion. In a “* nr “»J fi. i; Iter dear Prince. O, what would she not aa to revive the dying animal, and give

Prince a new lease of existence! Just at Ibis juncture, In the manner of the olu plays, when something supernatural was required to get over a serious difficulty, a sylph-like being in toe character of a benevolent faiiy appears on the stage carrying a magic wand. Her mission, she says, being to redress wrung, she touches the dying hone with her wand and bids it rise. In an Instant Prince starts up from its recumbent position* and to the delight and amassment of everybody, It la as fresh, glossy and beautiful as when it went out with the bounds in the foxchase. The Sady springs upon its back, and off Prince goes at a splendid gallop. The applause was, of course, immense! Perhaps in the whole annals of horsemanship there was never demonstrated a more wonderful case of acting. The horse had all along been feigning for public amusement. It had feigned to be a cabhorse. It had feigned to be tired whan it stood on three legs. It feigned to be dying when it dropped down in the sandcart. The whole affair was a piece of simulation, and by means of some adventitious aid in discoloring the skin the deception was complete. A hasty rub with a cloth ptKs it all to rights; and instead of dying, Prince gallops off in the consciousness of having performed a brilliant piede of acting. What we have narrated from recollection will assist in illustrating the natural intelligence of tbe horse, and the extent to which it can be educated by patient and gentle training. Harsh treatment would be all a mistake. Words kindly spoken, some small reward in the shape of a mouthful of what is agreeable —a trifling sweetmeat for instance-^-will work wouders in forming the character of the horse, and teaching it to perform any required feat. We always thought that an impressive moral lesson was conveyed in the play of the “ High-Mettled Racer." — Chambers' Journal.