This sad affection is invariably produced by external injury. A horse runs away and comes in contact with some hard substance. The blow is of sufficient violence to fracture the strong cranium of the quadruped and to smash all that remains harnessed to the animal. Here we have a reason why man should establish more than a brutal mastery over the animal he possesses. The horse is the most timid of creatures. It, however, quickly learns to recognize the voice of its owner. In its vast affection, it soon trusts with confidence to the person who is kind to it. An occasional word thrown to a patient and willing servant, spoken softly to the animal which is putting forth all its strength for our pleasure, would not be cast away. When dread overpowers the horse and it begins to run at its topmost speed, do not pull the reins: the first check should be given by the voice. Speak cheerfully to a timid creature. If the first word produces no effect, repeat it. Watch the ears. If these are turned backward to catch the accents, talk encouragingly to the horse. The voice of one it loves will restore its confidence. The pace will slacken. Talk on, but always in a tone calculated to soothe distress. Then gently touch the reins. The first gentle movement may not be responded to, but the second or the third will be; and the animal, released from terror, is once more under your control. This is much better than tugging and flogging, which obviously are thrown away upon a body that horror has deprived of sensation. The noise and the resistance but feed the wildness of the fear, and, in the end, the driver is carried to a hospital, the horse being laid prostrate among the ruins it has made. When led back to the stable, a wound is discovered on the animal's forehead. It is so small it is deemed of no consequence. A little water oozes from it--that is all--it does not send forth matter, or it might deserve attention. However, in a short time the horse becomes dull. It will not eat. Soon it falls down and commences dashing its head upon the pavement. There it lies, and, day and night, continues its dreadful occupation. One side of the face is terribly excoriated, and must be acutely painful; but the horrid labor still goes on, each stroke shaking the solid earth, which it indents. At last death ends the misery, and a small abscess, containing about half a drachm of healthy pus, is discovered in the superficial substance of the brain. Physic or operation is of no use here. The cranium of the horse is covered by the thick temporalis muscles. This alone would prevent the trephine being resorted to. Blood would follow the removal of any portion of the skull. Besides, what or who is to keep the head still during the operation? and, were the operation possible, who would own an animal with a hole in its skull? The only means of cure would be to afford exit to the matter; and to do that is beyond human ingenuity. STAGGERS--SLEEPY STAGGERS AND MAD STAGGERS.