Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dust
On October's day, towards evening
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plow
Salt on a deep chest seasoning
Bring me a wheel of oaken wood
A rein of polished leather
A heavy horse and a tumbling sky
Brewing heavy weather...
They plowed the land, they carried the freight, they moved the people. The heavy horses were the tractors and trucks, the buses and taxis of their times. One hundred years ago over 100,000 of these great animals were at work on the streets of New York City alone. Today with little call for their labor in the work place and with the great expense of their upkeep, their numbers have dwindled greatly. The largest of horses grow smaller in number year by year...
