Uncle Dick and Lisa's Old Time Animal Tales

There are several large horse residences in New York. They each have beds for hundreds of horses, and the dining tables are a hundred times larger than those of the ‘fifth Avenue” and “Windsor” put together. The Horse Hotel, the largest one of all, is on Third Avenue, between Sixty-fifth and Sixty-ninth streets. It is one vast iron building, six hundred feet long and two hundred feet wide, and covered an entire block. It is three stories high, with a basement, and two thousand horses belonging to the third Avenue Railroad Company reside there in a style of splendor and luxury unknown to horses who have never traveled from their native farms. There are waiting and reception rooms, nice quarters for horses who happen to have a cold or a headache; there is a fine hospital for those who are very sick; there is a house surgeon and shoemaker, to say nothing of a cobbler to put on new heels or otherwise repair their shoes; and there is a housekeeper and a whole army of waiters and chamber-maids; also, a chief cook, with a dozen assistants. Altogether, the hotel is unsurpassed for horse-luxury and elegance; and if the horse could tell what they think about it, doubtless there would be a mass meeting of the guests, with a vote of thanks to the manages, of at least a committee of three to wait on the housekeeper and the chief cook, with an appropriate set of resolutions expressive of appreciation of their kindness and attention,” and full of words like “elegant apartment’s “choice viands,” “politeness,” “urbanity,” etc, etc.-Charles Barnard in St. Nicholas.