BREAKING AND TRAINING MULES—PERFORMING AND “COMIC” MULES.
Mules appear fated to labor under an unfavorable and unenviable
reputation. Not only has that rather objectionable quality of
stubbornness been supposed to exist in their disposition to such an
undue degree as to give rise to the saying, “as stubborn as a mule,” but
this general reputation for intelligence is by no means first rate. That
the mule is by nature inclined to be rather stubborn is undoubtedly
true, but it is very questionable whether the wonderful displays of this
quality sometimes met with, are not actually as much due to the very
measures adopted to overcome the fault as to the natural disposition of
the animal. With proper treatment and a little judicious training the
objectionable features in a mule’s disposition might be easily remedied.
[Illustration: A LAZY CURE FOR LAZINESS.]
There is a clever invention attributed to a certain lazy Hindoo, for
overcoming the proverbial laziness of the mule. It appears that the man
was employed to oversee a mule working one of those primitive mills in
use to this day in India. The man seems to have been slightly inclined
toward laziness himself, and was anxious to contrive some plan which
would enable him to keep the mule in motion and monopolize all the
indolence himself. This he at last accomplished with the aid of a clever
device, shown in the accompanying illustration, which explains itself.
We give it as a curiosity in the “art of training animals,” without
vouching for its strict fidelity to the truth.
The following instructions are given by Mr. Riley, an experienced
authority, for breaking mules:
“In breaking the mule, most persons are apt to get out of patience with
him. I have got out of patience with him myself. But patience is the
great essential in breaking; and in the use of it you will find that you
get along much better. The mule is an unnatural animal, and hence more
timid of man than the horse; and yet he is tractable and capable of
being taught to understand what you want him to do. And when he
understands what you want, and has gained your confidence, you will, if
you treat him kindly, have little trouble in making him perform his
duty.
“In commencing to break the mule, take hold of him gently, talk to him
kindly. Don’t spring at him, as if he were a tiger you were in dread of.
Don’t yell at him; don’t jerk him; don’t strike him with a club, as is
often done; don’t get excited at his jumping and kicking. Approach and
handle him the same as you would an animal already broken, and through
kindness you will, in less than a week, have your mule more tractable,
better broken, and kinder than you would in a month, had you used the
whip. Mules, with very few exceptions, are born kickers. Breed them as
carefully as you will, the moment they are able to stand up, and you put
your hand on them, they will kick. It is, indeed, their natural means of
defense, and they resort to it through the force of instinct. In
commencing to break them, then, kicking is the first thing to guard
against and overcome. The young mule kicks because he is afraid of a
man. He has seen those entrusted with their care beat and abuse the
older ones, and he very naturally fears the same treatment as soon as a
man approaches him. Most persons entrusted with the care of these young
and green mules have not had experience enough with them to know that
this defect of kicking is soonest remedied by kind treatment. Careful
study of the animal’s nature, and long experience with the animal have
taught me that, in breaking the mule, whipping and harsh treatment
almost invariably make him a worse kicker. They certainly make him more
timid and afraid of you. And just as long as you fight a mule and keep
him afraid of you, just so long will you be in danger of his kicking
you. You must convince him through kindness that you are not going to
hurt or punish him. And the sooner you do this, the sooner you are out
of danger from his feet.”
PERFORMING MULES.
[Illustration: A “COMIC” MULE.]
Chief among circus attractions, especially in the eyes of the boys, are
the trick or “comic” mules. A couple of these animals are attached to
nearly every troupe, and quite a variety of tricks are performed by
them. The performance usually the most eagerly looked forward to, is
that reserved for the final part of the exhibition. The regular
performances being concluded, one of the mules is retained in the ring
and the ring-master invites some boy present among the audience to come
forward and take a ride—if he can. There are generally plenty of eager
respondents to this invitation, one of whom is permitted to enter the
ring. The ring-master leads the mule up to the boy as though to assist
him in mounting. If the boy is “green” he will probably be somewhat
astonished, as soon as the mule is brought near him, at having the pit
of his stomach made a target for the reception of the said mule’s heels.
If he has already seen a similar performance he will have anticipated
this little episode, which can always be calculated upon without fear of
disappointment. After many struggles the boy perhaps succeeds in
mounting the mule and then an amusing contest ensues between them—the
boy’s efforts being directed to maintain his hold, and the mule’s to
dislodge him. Running at full speed, the animal tries to throw his rider
by stopping suddenly, and if successful in this attempt, the boy is
either thrown head first among his companions, or, if he lands in the
ring, is chased out by the mule.
It is rarely that any one succeeds in maintaining his hold for more than
a few minutes, unless he is a capital rider, in which case he may be
able to master the animal; should this result be at all likely, the
ring-master will, on some pretext, interfere and select some less expert
rider from the audience. Finally an attaché of the circus, disguised as
a countryman, volunteers to ride the mule, and after considerable
caricature riding, and ridiculous posturing, he concludes the
performance.
Sometimes to enhance the interest in the affair a reward of five dollars
is offered to any one who will ride the mule three times around the
ring. This was usually done by Dan ——, a prominent circus manager. We
were present on one occasion when a big burly “rough” entered the ring
at Dan’s general invitation, to compete for the prize. The mule was
particularly spunky but he was finally forced to succumb, and
notwithstanding all Dan’s attempts to balk the rider, the mule was
ridden the requisite number of times around the ring. Lest any of our
readers should be led to cherish the delusion that _they_ might thus
earn a reward for displaying their mule breaking abilities, we may
mention that, in this case at least, the rider did _not_ receive the
money. The showman assured him that the offer was only in fun and
declined to hand over the amount. The rough thereupon “pitched in” and
administered a thrashing to the showman before he could be prevented. A
general fight was only averted by the exertions of the police. We
believe Dan, while he remained in that locality, did not repeat his
offer.
Very little special instruction is required for “comic mules.” The
kicking part of the performance may be taught according to the
instructions given for teaching horses the same act. The mule is allowed
with strangers to give full vent to all the natural viciousness of his
nature, and is encouraged therein. Toward his trainer, and those
connected with the establishment, such conduct is not allowed. He soon
learns from experience that the worst conduct toward boys in the ring is
meritorious, and being annoyed by their persistent efforts to ride him,
he resorts to every possible device, without requiring any instruction,
to get rid of his tormentors.
Another humorous scene sometimes enacted by the mules is a prize fight,
the principals being rigged up in costume and furnished with boxing
gloves, while two small donkeys are made to seat themselves and hold
sponges, as though personating the seconds. Sometimes this latter
character is assumed by the clown and ring-master, though it makes
little difference. The actions of the mules have a very slight
resemblance to a combat and the costumes make them look funny and
satisfy the audience. The training required is merely to make them stand
erect.
[Illustration: AN ASININE PRIZE FIGHT.]
Mules, though possessing less intelligence than horses, may be taught
many of the tricks which the latter perform, and the same instructions
will suffice for training them.
The sure-footedness of mules has enabled trainers to teach them, in
several cases, a very effective and showy trick—that of walking over a
number of empty bottles placed upright on a floor or platform. This feat
is always highly successful wherever performed, and it is really an
excellent one. The bottles used are large, stout porter bottles, which
will readily sustain a great weight if placed directly on top. To teach
the trick the bottles are at first secured in a platform composed of a
double thickness of planks, in the upper one of which holes are cut. In
these holes the bottles are placed; the bottoms resting on the lower
layer of planks, while the upper one holds them securely in place.
Before teaching this trick the animal is usually taught the ordinary
pedestal trick, as explained in a preceding chapter, as a preparatory
lesson. He will then more readily acquire the bottle feat. He is first
made to place one fore foot on top of a bottle’s neck, then the other
fore foot on another. Then the first foot is tapped with the whip to
make him raise it and advance it to the succeeding bottle; as he does
this his hind foot is struck gently to force him to place it on the
vacated bottle. Six or eight bottles are sufficient to commence with,
additions being made as the animal becomes proficient. When the trick is
learned it is unnecessary to secure the bottles in any way; if the mule
places his foot squarely on the top, as he should be made to do, there
is no danger of either breaking or upsetting them.
[Illustration: THE PORTER BOTTLE FEAT.]
There is a trick related of a couple of English costermongers, or
perambulating vegetable dealers, which is amusing if not of practical
value. These two worthies were in the habit of passing their donkey
through a Devonshire toll gate, on their return trip, free of charge, by
making him walk through on his hind legs, arm in arm with them, and
taking advantage of the twilight to represent him as a friend slightly
under the influence of liquor!
At the south, where mules are almost universally used for many purposes
for which horses are used at the north, the negroes are in the habit of
directing their movements in many cases entirely by the voice. The
animals of that section being as a rule more gently treated, are of a
better disposition than their northern brethren. The course of training
practiced by their stable masters is by no means systematic, but the
animals manage by some means to learn to understand and obey the far
from lucid commands. We have often been surprised to see how readily the
mules would detect the meaning of what, to our ears, was entirely
unintelligible. Probably practice had taught them what was required just
as the mules which convey travelers through the wild mountain passes of
Spain are reported to stop immediately upon hearing the hail of any of
the banditti who infest those regions—habitual experience of the customs
of those gentry having taught them to come to a stand still.
There is an amusing, though, possibly, not strictly authentic, story
told in connection with the performance of the pantomime of Humpty
Dumpty, some years ago, in this city. In this spectacle a small mule was
made to appear quite comically by the dexterity of his heels. During the
season the regular animal fell ill, and an amateur was substituted. When
one of the characters touched the new mule to make him kick, he began in
admirable style. He kicked off the fellow and kicked him twice before he
touched the boards. Then he ran toward several of the other dramatis
personæ, and kicked them. Every movable object on the stage, animate or
inanimate, he kicked off. Next he began on the scenery. He kicked down a
whole forest, three good sized cottages, a picturesque cascade, a
granite prison, a robber’s cave, a royal palace, the Rialto and Vesuvius
in eruption, and was about to attack the grand transformation scene from
Midsummer Night’s Dream, when a rope was thrown around his neck, and he
was dragged off by the whole strength of the company, assisted by all
the able bodied supernumeraries. The audience, many of whom supposed the
obstreperous mule part of the performance, were delighted at his energy,
and demanded with deafening plaudits, a repetition of the scene. The
uproar was so great that the manager came out and said that an
intermission of fifteen minutes would be given to enable some of the
actors to recover the breath that the active mule had kicked out of
them, and pledged his honor that the brute should never make another
appearance on the Olympic stage. At this the audience roared louder than
ever, and for nearly half an hour the performance was suspended by the
universal guffaw. Every night afterward while the piece ran, the kicking
mule was called for, and the manager of the theater it is said, in
consequence, had to insert an advertisement in the daily papers, stating
that the animal was mysteriously knocked in the head the same night of
his highly successful débût.
[Illustration]