Seasoned horses were more valuable to proprietors than green uneducated colts from the fair; consequently, many opportunities were afforded for "chops" equally advantageous to both parties. An old hunter (old, not so much with reference to his years, as because he had been thus employed) made an admirable teamster. Horses with a blemish, or perhaps from some caprice of their owners, were often drafted while in their zenith, and those who were fortunate enough to pick them up, purchased with them some months (if not years) of good keep and condition, which could not be too highly appreciated. Condition means time; and nothing but time can effectually produce it. The power of a horse may be doubled by the condition of his frame, as it may be reduced by mismanagement and low keep to half its natural strength. A large breeder in the North of England, a fine specimen of the old English yeoman, whom I visited some years ago, remarked to me: "I send all my colts, at two years old, to plough. They may play with it or they may work, just as they please. They are only out from eleven to three. It makes them temperate, accustoms them to be handled, and develops their muscles. I have bred some high-priced ones, and all have been served the same. "In fifty-five examples of this treatment I have never known a single instance of harm arising from it. This horse which I am now riding" (and he called my attention to a very clever-looking black-brown gelding, about fifteen hands three inches) "has worked on-and-off on this farm for twenty-three years. I have been tempted to sell him four different times, but he has always come back to me. We nearly lost each other the last time, but, by a strange accident, I recovered him. "I was on the coach, going to Doncaster, and when we changed horses at ---- I noticed that one of them began pawing and neighing, appearing much excited. The horsekeeper reproved him, and led him into his place at the wheel. Having taken my seat on the box with the coachman, I observed that the animal was troubled by the fretfulness of his near-side wheeler. He jumped, backed, and shied to such a degree as to induce me to remark to the coachman that he had a fresh one there. "'No, not fresh,' was the reply. 'I've had him here these ten months, and a better I never drove. He never played this game before.' "'Where does he come from?' I asked. "'I heard the governor say from Cornwall, but he bought him at Bristol,' said the man. "Up to this moment every action, every movement, had so entirely reminded me of my friend Latch-key, that I could almost have sworn to his identity. But how he could have come out of Cornwall to be sold at Bristol puzzled me.