do it.' I said, 'I will try him in four things; I will ask him to trot
three times around a circle, to lie down, to sit up, and to bring me
my handkerchief. If he is my horse, he will do it.' The Indian said,
'You shall have him if he does, but he won't!' By this time a crowd
had got together. We put the horse in an enclosure, he did as he was
told, and I had him back."

Mr. Bartholomew said, "My motto in educating them is, 'Make haste
slowly;' I never require too much, and I never ask a horse to do what
he _can't_ do. That is of no use. A horse _can't_ learn what horses
are not capable of learning; and he can't do a thing until he
understands what you mean, and how you want it done. What good would
it do for me to ask a man a question in French if he did not know a
word of the language? I get him used to the word, and show him what
I want. If it is to climb up somewhere, I gently put his foot up and
have him keep it there until I am ready to have it come down, and
then I take it down myself. I never let the horse do it. The same with
other things, showing him how, and by words. They know a great number
of words. My horses are not influenced by signs or motions when they
are on the stage. They use their intelligence and memory, and they
associate ideas and are required to obey. They learn a great deal by
observing one another. One watches and learns by seeing the others.
I taught one horse to kneel, by first bending his knee myself, and
putting him into position. After he had learned, I took another in
who kept watch all the time, and learned partly by imitation. They are
social creatures; they love each other's company."

Most of these horses have been together now for several years, and
are fond of one another. They appear to keep the run of the whole
performance, and listen and notice like children in a school when