Note 34 — Chapter VII
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When quartered, years ago, in County Wexford, I used frequently to see a fine strong-knit, well-built horse, who could never see me—for he was stone-blind; yet, odd to say, all his progeny had capital eyes.{1} He had rather a queer temper, as his name, “Restless,” partly implied. During the spring he was led about the country, and what is very surprising, there was always a fight to get him past the lane or gate leading to any farm-house where his services had ever before been required. As it is certain that he was perfectly blind, no faculty we can believe him to be possessed of, unless it be memory, will explain how, at such long intervals, he could recognise the many different places so accurately; and if it be attributable to memory, that of the Senior Wrangler of Cambridge’s best year can in no way be compared with it.
{1} This is the more singular, as, from unexplained causes, diseases of that organ are but too common in Ireland. One veterinary surgeon attributed it to the dampness of the climate. His young English horses suffered while at Cork as much as his Irish ones.