“I would like to have the power to take every man who cuts off a horse’s tail, and tie his hands and turn him out in a field in the hot sun, with little clothing on, and plenty of flies about.  Then we would see if he wouldn’t sympathize with the poor, dumb beast.  It’s the most senseless thing in the world, this docking fashion.  They’ve a few flimsy arguments about a horse with a docked tail being stronger-backed, like a short-tailed sheep, but I don’t believe a word of it.  The horse was made strong enough to do the work he’s got to do, and man can’t improve on him.  Docking is a cruel, wicked thing.  Now, there’s a ghost of an argument in favor of check-reins, on certain occasions.  A fiery, young horse can’t run away, with an overdrawn check, and in speeding horses a tight check-rein will make them hold their heads up, and keep them from choking.

“But I don’t believe in raising colts in a way to make them fiery, and I wish there wasn’t a race horse on the face of the earth, so if it depended on me, every kind of check-rein would go.  It’s a pity we women can’t vote, Laura.  We’d do away with a good many abuses.”

Miss Laura smiled, but it was a very faint, almost an unhappy smile, and Mrs. Wood said hastily, “Let us talk about something else.  Did you ever hear that cows will give less milk on a dark day than on a bright one?”

“No; I never did,” said Miss Laura.

“Well, they do.  They are most sensitive animals.  One finds out all manners of curious things about animals if he makes a study of them.  Cows are wonderful creatures, I think, and so grateful for good usage that they return every scrap of care given them, with interest.  Have you ever heard anything about dehorning, Laura?”

“Not much, auntie.  Does uncle approve of it?”

“No, indeed.  He’d just as soon think of cutting their tails off, as of dehorning them.  He says he guesses the Creator knew how to make a cow better than he does.  Sometimes I tell John that his argument doesn’t hold good, for a man in some ways can improve on nature.  In the natural course of things, a cow would be feeding her calf for half a year, but we take it away from her, and raise it as well as she could and get an extra quantity of milk from her in addition.  I don’t know what to think myself about dehorning.  Mr. Windham’s cattle are all polled, and he has an open space in his barn for them, instead of keeping them in stalls, and he says they’re more comfortable and not so confined.  I suppose in sending cattle to sea, it’s necessary to take their horns off, but when they’re going to be turned out to grass, it seems like mutilating them.  Our cows couldn’t keep the dogs away from the sheep if they didn’t have their horns.  Their horns are their means of defense.”

“Do your cattle stand in these stalls all winter?” asked Miss Laura.