“Has any boy done anything about blinders and check-reins?” asked the president, after a time.

A brown-faced boy stood up.  “I had a picnic last Monday,” he said; “father let me cut all the blinders off our head-stalls with my penknife.”

“How did you get him to consent to that?” asked the president.

“I told him,” said the boy, “that I couldn’t get to sleep for thinking of him.  You know he drives a good deal late at night.  I told him that every dark night he came from Sudbury I thought of the deep ditch alongside the road, and wished his horses hadn’t blinders on.  And every night he comes from the Junction, and has to drive along the river bank where the water has washed away the earth till the wheels of the wagon are within a foot or two of the edge, I wished again that his horses could see each side of them, for I knew they’d have sense enough to keep out of danger if they could see it.  Father said that might be very true, and yet his horses had been broken in with blinders, and didn’t I think they would be inclined to shy if he took them off; and wouldn’t they be frightened to look around and see the wagon wheels so near.  I told him that for every accident that happened to a horse without blinders, several happened to a horse with them; and then I gave him Mr. Wood’s opinion—­Mr. Wood out at Dingley Farm.  He says that the worst thing against blinders is that a frightened horse never knows when he has passed the thing that scared him.  He always thinks it is behind him.  The blinders are there and he can’t see that he has passed it, and he can’t turn his head to have a good look at it.  So often he goes tearing madly on; and sometimes lives are lost all on account of a little bit of leather fastened over a beautiful eye that ought to look out full and free at the world.  That finished father.  He said he’d take off his blinders, and if he had an accident, he’d send the bill for damages to Mr. Wood.  But we’ve had no accident.  The horses did act rather queerly at first, and started a little; but they soon got over it, and now they go as steady without blinders as they ever did with them.”

The boy sat down, and the president said:  “I think it is time that the whole nation threw off this foolishness of half covering their horses’ eyes, just put your hands up to your eyes, members of the band.  Half cover them, and see how shut in you will feel; and how curious you will be to know what is going on beside you.  Suppose a girl saw a mouse with her eyes half covered, wouldn’t she run?”

Everybody laughed, and the president asked some one to tell him who invented blinders.

“An English nobleman,” shouted a boy, “who had a wall-eyed horse!  He wanted to cover up the defect, and I think it is a great shame that all the American horses have to suffer because that English one had an ugly eye.”

“So do I,” said the president.  “Three groans for blinders, boys.”