****** ******** *A-******************irk-k*****
FOR SALE
ckti Paizacie ,11,944€ Aiodpect ik MELODY Very chestnut stallion Fiery, proud carriage
By Silver Dan 8226, from Shawnee 06471
9621 WILBUR WHITE Route 1, Box 463 Folsom. California *******-k******************************************ink****************************** 74a44,4 mu...
The many Morgan admirers who have answered our advertisement. Especially those who visited the farm and the many complimentary remarks on the results of our breeding program.
We still have an exceptionally nice yearling stud and a beautiful young show mare who will hold her own with the best in the country.
One of these must sell in order to make our horses "fit the barn."
Mr. & Mrs. OTHO EUSEY Apple Valley Ranch Sterling, Mass.
R.F.D. Lancaster, Mass.
Cotton Hill Farm .. . Home of CONGO
2 three-year-old FOR SALE: 3 two-year-old STALLIONS
Also
Mares All Ages — All Sired by Congo
Write or Call us your wants J. Roy Brunk R. R. 2 Rochester, Illinois Phone: Springfield 2-5026 ▪ ▪
gpedal ChivaZma4 Q01 4u44
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Mail to MORGAN HORSE MAGAZINE, 102 Water Street, Leominster, Mass. Table of Contents
SPECIAL FEATURES ietiehA to The Silver-Tipped Mustang Orcland Farms 3 the Editati Karr 12 The Control of Parasites (Part II) 14 Dartmouth Horse Association Trail Ride 18 Second All-American Show 19 Miracle Drug Dear Sir: I wish to extend my hearty con- gratulations and appreciation for the REGULAR FEATURES article that appeared in the October Letters to the Editot 4 issue of the MORGAN HORSE Editor's Comments 5 Magazine by Dr. A. C. Todd entitled Names in Pedigrees 10 "Horse Parasites." He has managed Breeze from the Great Lakes 21 to bring home to every horse owner Once Upon a Horse 30 not only the possibility but the prob- Stable Hints 31 ability that their animals are playing hosts to parasites. I think the tendency is to look for such things in the other fellow's ani- mals and overlook it in our own fav- orites. I might add that it is no dis- Officers of the Morgan Horse Club grace to have them, but it is a disgrace President MERLE D. EVANS to keep them. Ohio Merchants Bank Building, Massillon, Ohio The list of difficulties which can Vice•President FREDERICK O. DAVIS occur to a horse through parasitism is Windsor, Vermont an awesome one indeed, and I do not Secretary FRANK B. HILLS feel that Dr. Todd exaggerated one 90 Broad Street, New York 4, N. Y. iota in mentioning these in his article. Treasurer WHITNEY STONE These difficulties hit all types of 90 Broad Sheet, New York 4, N. Y. horses and consequently all types of horsemen, the breeder, the trainer, the showman, the racing man and the just plain horse lover. No animal can The Morgan Horse Magazine be at his physical peak or give top performance if handicapped by par- Vol. XII November, 1952 No. 10 asitic infestation, A Monthly However, there is a happy side to The Official Publication of this picture and that is phenothiazine. THE MORGAN HORSE CLUB, Incorporated Dr. Todd removes the old horseman's 90 Broad St., New York 4. N. Y. curse on this wonder drug by explain- Publication Office: ing that its misuse was the seat of Leominster, Moss. early difficulty. The standardized sub- Publisher Otho F. F.usey therapeutic or "low-level" dosage of for The Morgan Horse Club. Inc. two grams a day is safely tolerated Editor Sumner Kean and efficacious in eliminating the par- CONTRiBUTTNG EDITORS asites or at least keeping them under C. Fred Austin Dana Wingate Kelley Mabel Owen control. Helen Brunk Greenwalt Dr. Russell E. Smith This article of Dr. Todd's was ex- SUBSCRIPTION RATES tremely interesting to me because One Year S3.50 Two Years S6.50 Three Years S3.00 through the kindness of a friend my attention was drawn to an article on THE MORGAN HORSE MAGAZINE, ou,,lished monthly by THE MORGAN HORSE CLUB, INC., 90 Broad St., New York, New York. phenothiazine in the August 8, 1952, Printed by The Eusey Press. Leominster, Mass. Entered as second. class issue of the CHRONICLE. Follow• matter at post office, Leominster, Mass. ing the reading of this article, I started our three-year-old stallion. Donnie Copyright 1952 by The Morgan Horse Magazine Mac, on the two grain a day regime His neigh is like the bidding of a monarch, after first giving him a good laxative and his countenance enforces homage.
(Continued on next page) kiet9 ,41e4,14.“/ The Editor's Comments
There comes a time in the lives of men when a job is done and people relax with the certaintude that once again a magazine has gone to press—another issue, for better or for worse is on its way to our critical readers. At times like this, we on the staff of the magazine relax and frequently ronsider the whole broad picture of the Morgan breed—what have we done, what can we accomplish by the monthly chroniclings of the horses of the people we know and admire. Then we say, this is so and that is not; this is phony, that real; this we must strive for, that ignore in our endless and, off-times bootless search for what is real and earnest to the detriment of what is artificial. So we sit, in these post-publication bull sessions and attempt to assay. Often what we say, the conclusions we arrive at get no further than the smoke-thickened confines of our office. Too frequently we determine that this is better left unsaid. This will hurt; that will accomplish no good. And so For our cover this month, we go to the these sessions go, balm to the blistered soul that fails of fulfillment on paper, that far Northwest to bring Skagit Vashon, airs his venom and his suppressed conclusions only in those limited confines. owned by Louise D. Bates of Red But came a day recently that all this was changed; when all sat and calmly Top Farm, Arlington, Washington. admitted that whether we did good or not whether our word went out to listen- This handsome young stallion, foaled ing ears or withered in the desert air—that whether all this was worthwhile—this in 1947, is by Highwood L out of In- fact stood out alone and irrefutable: The breed Morgan was showing great dian Summer. Copper chestnut with improvement. a light mane and tail, white blaze and three white stockings, Skagit Vashon Pause then as you labor to contribute your bit: weigh your own small adds plenty of flash to his excellent effort and give consideration. conformation and substance. He is Have you in the past decade given thought to the quality of the Morgans shown with Lawrence Tupper up. you have seen whether it be in shows or in your own or neighbor's stable? LETTERS Compare the number of good stallions and mares which have come forth (Continued from page 4) since this day in 1942. The war only a year old was capturing every mind and relief from its deadly gnawing ache was but temporary. How many good ball. The difference in this colt is horses could you list? amazing. He is putting on flesh beau- As we write this, TV is blaring Invictus and its well-known " . . . the tifully whereas prior to this treatment menace of the years." In this instance the years have held a little less than menace. we were "stuffing" him and just about They have brought to the Morgan breed as a whole the solid knowledge that if holding our own. Morgan club members do thus and so; if they but gauge the results thus ob- I had had smears done and knew tained; if they play the Morgan game with all their soul and being they will the colt had strongyles, but I never continue to give impetus to these horses which have fared so well at the hands had a gram count done, so how in- of America in the past 10 years. tense the infestation was I'll never know. But suffice it to say the clinical We are getting there. We have not yet arrived but we are headed in the right direction and gaining momentum. improvement is remarkable even though I am unable to substantiate it We recently had recourse to an old sales folder. In it were pictured the with more scientific data leading New England dams and sires of that day half a century ago when the I feel that all readers of the maga- Morgan was at the height of his buggy hauling prowess. We scanned the zine owe the editor and Dr. Todd a likeness of these horses which were popular about the time when we first large debt of gratitude for this excel- saw the light of day. What did they have that made them famous? The lent article. I also suggest that they more we looked the less we knew. Then, for comparison's sake we stacked the keep this issue handy for constant ref- pictures against those of a recent issue of the Morgan Horse Magazine. Brother, erence. It should point out the fact they had nothing! In conformation, in the general characteristics that even that no stable, no matter how elabor- make a good horse—to say nothing of the breed—they were lacking, and badly. ate or how humble, is complete with- Endurance tests they may well have survived. But so have our present day out this drug handy. Morgans. And if the price they paid for this quality was the looks they per- Again, let me thank you for an ex- force endured we would say without hesitation that today's "Morgan dollar" cellent publication. It is devoured in has not shrunk so badly. our house from cover to cover and then saved. We have learned much (Continued on Page 22)
Sometimes 1 think if everyone could have the love of horses in their blood Mere would be more happiness in the world. I watch America roll on wheels and soar over on wings and everyone is in such a hurry, I doubt if they see or feel half of what's around them. 1 wonder how the people jammed into the big cities find any real happiness or solitude where they can't see a mountain, or hear a clear stream, or feel the comfort of a good saddle, and I suppose they think people like me are a little cracked. A man can acquire an education, or riches or social finesse as he ad- vances thru life, but God gave him a soul at birth, and he needs no more to feel the real joys of life. Somehow I feel that half the folks in the world yearn for horses. I wish they could all own one, feel its sleek hide, feed it and care for it, and sit on the corral rail to watch it and feel its moods. It needn't be a blue ribbon candidate. If it is yours you'll like it and to you it will be the best.
I guess I am just geared to horses — THE AUTHOR
The author and his famous mount, Buck. The Silver-tipped Mustang
By ERN PEDLER
Ahead, the pass framed the sky in I looked out across the country be- th-ouh the rocks and chaparral. sharp definition. Behind, the extra hind, seeing the valley with its few Somewhere between here and the horses labored up the steep grade, fol- scattered ranches, and beyond that the peninsula I would need to find water, lowing without a lead rope and packed unfolding hills reaching on into noth- 1- ut the desert floor showed no prom- with my tarp and my "gatherin's." ing, and ahead the desert, already ise of any, so I skirted the foot hills. Beneath me I watched the powerful turning brown, rimmed with cedar- My tongue was getting mighty sticky neck and shoulders of the big buckskin ! tudded hills that rose to meet the when I finally found a wet slab of pony and watched the trailside grass ragged, jumbled mountains. I put the rock in the bottom of a draw. Nearby sway from the force of his breathing. glasses to the distances, seeing the the ground was soggy, and after I dug Up here it was still early spring, and trembling heat waves that hung a hole a couple of feet deep it began the end of May still saw tiny aspen around the colored buttes, that jutted to fill with seepage, and in two hours leaves, and grass soft and lush, around up from the desert floor, and some the ponies and I had our fill. the edges of the great snow drifts and sixty miles away another point of low I rubbed the ponies down, found slides. mountains running like a peninsula some grazing for them in the damp The big horse reached the pass, and into a desert sea. earth, tying the Buckskin. Then I I stopped him for a breather and to Somewhere in that great range was sat against a rock, watching the wait for the other ponies to come up. a horse I sought, a wild stud, black, country through the glasses, remem- A sleepy breeze coasted over the with a silver tail. I had heard rumors bering landmarks and contours and mountain, clean and soft. of him over a hundred miles away, scanning the faint greens for move- I watched the other horses pull in, but rumors of wild horses were usually ment. I wondered if the ponies had sizing them up, measuring my chances dreamed up by some tenderfoot or already quit the flats for the summer of success. "Mex," a black gelding, maybe a deer hunter who sees a herd to range in the high altitudes. If so, was on the blocky side but limber of someone's branded horses and I was out of luck for a lone run. enough to be fast and hard to put off takes them to be mustangs. But when his feet; "Spider," tall and round the story came to me from men who The looks of the country said the bodied and short coupled was the fast- were real riders, and who had tried to peninsula was my best bet for a camp est horse for clear running that I ever run him, I tied on my packs and rode and a lookout point for this country owned. Under my saddle the Migi'ty for the desert. It was a big country and the land beyond. It was a central Buckskin, thirteen hundred pounds of for a band of horses to run in, big and hub for riding to pick up tracks or guts and fire and hell could master rough, and dry, with here and there sign of the silver-tipped stud, if he still any kind of rough country running a faint green where the grass had not ranged within seventy or eighty miles. and make his shoes hang where he put yet succumbed to the brassy sun. The years of riding behind me told them, whose only claim on beauty I moved the Buckskin out over the me to ride at -night to span the long was his coloring and the 'go-to-hell' !boulder of the pass, feeling the lim- miles from here to the spring, said to look he showed to the world. ber, sure ease of him going down be somewhere near that tip, and I wasn't ready to be seen by the mus- some green in the bottom of each the spring. I ranged slowly along the tangs until I had my run figured. I depression. Out of the night the lone- foothills, keeping to cover, cutting for put my hat over my face to discourage ly buttes reached up, pushing against a definite horse trail. In less than an the flies and gnats, and slept, not car- the quiet sky, and occasionally a dry hour I found it, following up into the ing much for time; I had plenty. wash out its crazy path along the mountain. It came in under a ledge In the deep night I talked quietly flats, looking deeper because of the overhang, and halfway down the ledge to the Buckskin, hearing him blow dark. The land itself was new to me, water sprang from a crack in the rock rollers through his nose, seeing the but its pattern was not, and I leaned to catch in a pocket below. I stayed outline of the hump in his back as I my hands against the saddle swells, on my horse, not wanting to leave the swung the saddle into place. He humming quietly and thinking a smell of my tracks around the water grunted as the latigo jerked snug and lone man's thoughts. There is little hole, and as the ponies cooled, I let pulled his belly up away from the rear value to a mustang and no money to them tank up, drank where the water cinch, and I let him stand while I be made in running them, but there spilled from the ledge, and filled my packed the other ponies. I swung is something that puts a call to a man, canteens. I sent the big buckskin on from the ground into the saddle in stronger than the curse of the heat and up the mountain, hearing the clack of one move, and when he tried to pitch, the dry, dry land. I thought of all steel shoe on rock, pushing through hauled his head up hard, cussing some the people in the country who knew the thick chaparral tangles, on near to for good measure. There is a time not the feel of a saddle, who had never the top, skirting the ridge northward and place for everything. I had no chased a mustang, nor felt the power nearly a mile. These mountains were yen to hang by the chin from some of a good pony pushing up the steep lower, and the grass was well up; cedar tree in the dark. grade of a mountain, into the thin, bunch grass, not too lush, dry enough I pointed him out across the desert clean blue, and my heart felt big that to be strong feed. floor, feeling the cool, sharp night, I was born among the things I wanted I sidelined and hobbled the buck- hearing the quiet sounds. The country to see and be. skin and turned the others loose, fig- ran from tall, dense sage to the Daylight was close when I reached broken, jagged rocks, to patches of the peninsula, and I pulled up into the grass, dried around the rim, but still trees to wait for full morning to find (Continued on page 27)