When the time came for the trial, and Mr. Rarey threw open the door as if there were nothing to fear, Cruiser was too much astonished to move.  Before he had made up his mind what he should do, the “kindness, fearlessness and patience” of Mr. Rarey were at work.  One of Cruiser’s fore-feet was gently strapped backward in such a way that he could neither run nor kick.  By another strap on the off fore-foot it was possible to draw up the other leg, and presently to bring the powerful creature down upon his knees.  All the time this was going on, Mr. Rarey spoke quietly and encouragingly to him, until at last Cruiser felt that he had met a master and a friend.

In three hours Cruiser’s owner was able to mount him, and Mr. Rarey’s fortune was made, for the horse was a distinguished individual, whose return to society was hailed with joy.  Queen Victoria expressed her pleasure at Cruiser’s improvement and frequently came to see him and caress him.

Cruiser became the property of his tamer, and went with Mr. Rarey through the principal countries of Europe.  Everywhere throngs came to see him and his still more wonderful master.

“My mission,” said Mr. Rarey, “is to teach men that kindness, patience and firmness must be used in the management of horses.  They are taught by gentleness and not by harshness.”

Rarey gave free lectures to cabmen and truck-drivers wherever he went, and the crowned heads of Europe were glad to share the privilege of hearing and seeing him.  Horses that had been frightened and angered by ill-usage became, under his treatment, mild and easily governed.  The amount of good he accomplished it is not easy to estimate.  He died before he was forty years old, but the lesson he taught is not wholly forgotten.  Just before his death he said:  “If I could only get back once more to the old farm, and put my arms round my dear horses’ necks, I believe I should get well.”

THE ARAB TO HIS HORSE.

 Come, my beauty! come, my desert darling! 
   On my shoulder lay thy glossy head! 
 Fear not, though the barley-sack be empty,
   Here’s the half of Hassan’s scanty bread.

 Thou shalt have thy share of dates, my beauty! 
   And thou know’st my water-skin is free: 
 Drink and welcome, for the wells are distant,
   And my strength and safety lie in thee.

 Bend thy forehead now, to take my kisses! 
   Lift in love thy dark and splendid eye: 
 Thou art glad when Hassan mounts the saddle,—­
   Thou art proud he owns thee:  so am I.

 Let the Sultan bring his boasted horses,
   Prancing with their diamond-studded reins;
 They, my darling, shall not match thy fleetness
   When they course with thee the desert plains!

 We have seen Damascus, O my beauty! 
   And the splendor of the Pashas there;
 What’s their pomp and riches? why, I would not
   Take them for a handful of thy hair! 
                                Bayard Taylor.