And yet it must have been a terrible year for colts,
because there are only six horses in Milwaukee that are over seven years
old, but one of them was found to have been pretty well along in years
when he worked in Burnham's brick yard in 1848, and finally the owner
owned up that he was mistaken twenty-six years. What a mortality there
must have been among horses that would now be eight, nine or ten years
old. There are none of them left. And a year from now, when our present
stock of horses would naturally be eight years old they will all be dead,
and a new lot of seven years old horses will take their places. It is
singular, but it is true. That is, it is true unless horse dealers lie,
and THE SUN would be slow to charge so grave a crime upon a useful and
enterprising class of citizens. No, it cannot be, and yet, don't it seem
peculiar that all the horses in this broad land are seven years old this
spring? We leave the suject for the youth of the land to wonder over,
PECK'S BAD BOY AND HIS PA.
HIS PA JOINS A TEMPERANCE SOCIETY.
"Don't you think my Pa is showing his age a good deal more than usual?"
asked the bad boy of the grocery man, as he took a smoked herring out of a
box, and peeled off the skin with a broken bladed jack-knife, and split it
open and ripped off the bone, threw the head at a cat, took some crackers
and began to eat.
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