Horse-Sense
The Lancashire farmer was discussing horses. He had only one horse on his place, he said, but it was a grand animal, a grey Shire, twelve years old. This winter he had gone pulling roots with a tractor and trailer, and when the time came to move the load he had found both vehicles bogged down. The old Shire, he told me proudly, pulled both tractor and trailer out in turn. The tractor had given a little help. he confessed later, but it was definitely an occasion where pistons and cylinders meant nothing. "The beauty of my Shire," he remarked, "is that he never lifts a foot until the load begins to move. You can see him pulling into the collar long before he steps forward." A man has to know his horse well to say exactly when it is using its strength. I remember old Bob, an Irish rig that was often used to trace heavy loads uphill. One day, when he seemed to be pulling like ten, my grandfather stepped forward and put his walking stick on the trace-chain, and I was amazed to see it sag. Bob knew how to put up a show of willingness. He had only one eye, but he was so cunning that many .a carter was deceived.
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