The popular opinion declares sore throat to be always present during laryngitis. That notion springs from the horse always quidding, or rejecting the pellet it has masticated, while suffering under an attack of the last-mentioned disease. The two disorders, however, are distinct; likewise the remedies for each are separate. The =quidding=, during =laryngitis=, springs from the act of deglutition, obliging the sore and inflamed larynx to rise and press the pellet against the roof of the fauces. That act occasions much pain; hence the aversion to swallow solid substances. Sore throat is, however, by no means the necessary accompaniment of laryngitis. Neither are the bowels invariably confined during the disease. It has been known that the purgation existed in such energy as to require remedies. Consequently, no absolute plan of treatment can be laid down. However, depletion should be avoided to every extent which may be possible. The chronic form of the malady, consequent upon debility, is to be much dreaded. Effusion into the membrane, covering the rim of the larynx and its attendant roaring, is too frequently the result of that weakness which is produced by active measures. Among the lesser evils are cough, which not unfrequently proves but the precursor of more potent ills. Therefore, while laryngitis lasts, rather check the fever by gentle measures than resort to antimonials, niter, or the host of lowering agents. [Illustration: A HORSE IN THE ACT OF QUIDDING.] So soon as the case is observed, change the stable: the horse will do far better in the open air than in the foul atmosphere which originated and must aggravate the disorder. Rain, snow, or frost are more wholesome than the polluted warmth man's most humble slave is too often doomed to inhale. The roofs of many stables are terribly low; in no building of this kind is the covering too high. The welfare of the horse seems always sacrified to the imaginary interests of its master. Thus, above the stable is built a loft for the hay and a residence for the groom. To save expense, the building is raised as small a distance from the ground as possible. The height of modern buildings would be by no means extravagant, were an entire stable of ordinary dimensions left free for a single quadruped to breathe in. A puerile parsimony, however, denies the huge lungs of the animal the only food life cannot do without, for even a short space. Disease and death consequently soon waste treble the money ample accommodation would not have consumed. Ignorance is the most expensive quality a proprietor of horse-flesh can indulge; for nature invariably refuses to be made subject to man's convenience. ROARING.