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Lorsque le document est trop grand pour Atre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est film6 A partir de Tangle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mithode. rata lelure, I A 3 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 I i BLACK BEAUTY. THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A HORSE Kiiterod, accordin;,' to thi- Act of tlip I'arliameiit of Canida, in Ihe year one tliousiiiid fiK'lit hundred and ninety-four, by William iJsious, in the Office of the Minister of Airricultiire, at Ottawa. i THE At' IHn|;r>;S. BLACK BEAUT\ THE AUTOIllOC.RArilY O/-' A //OA'S/:. 7 TORONTO, CANADA : WILI^IAM SKIQGS LONDON : JARROI,!) A\D SONS. 1 894. ,f ^ TO MY DEAR AND HOVOURKD MOTHER, WHOSE LIFE, NO LKSS THAN HER PFN, HAS BEEN DEVOTED TO THE WELFARE OF OTHEKi, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTlONATKLy DEDICATED. I "He was a perfect horseman, and never lost liis temper with his horse, talking to and reabonmg with it if it shyed or bolted, as if it had been a rational being, knowing that from the fine organization of the animal, a horse, like a child, will get confused by panic fear, which is only increased by Dunishment."— /-rt^w the Lijc of C/mrles K/jt-s/ey, vol. ii. p. y. Hi il CHAI'TKK I. „A„» Mv Early Home .1 CHAPTER II. The Hust 6 CHAPTF.R III. Mv HliEAKING IN II CHAPTER IV. BiRiwicK Park 17 CHAPTER V. A Fair Start 20 CHAPTER VI. LiBFRTY 25 CHAPTER VII. Ginger .... 2a CHAPTER VIII. Ginger's Story continued 33 X Index. CHAPTER IX. p^f;„ Merryleus 39 CHAPTER X. A Talk in the Orchari* . 43 CHAPTER \I. Plain Spkaking .... ..... 50 CHAPTER XII. A Stormy Day ■ . ... 55 CHAPIER Mil. The DtviL's Trade Mark 60 CHAPTER XIV Jamks Howard 63 CHAPTER XV. The Old Ostler 66 CHAPTER XVI. The Fire .... 70 CHAPTER XVII. John Manly's Talk . 76 CHAPTER XVIII. Going for the Doctor 80 CHAPTER XIX. Only Ig jrance. . . 85 CHAi^'ER XX. Joe Green 89 CHAPTER XXI. The Parting 93 Index. xi CHAPTER XXII. EARLSHAT". ... CHAPTFR XXIII. A Strike for Liberty ' . 103 CHAPTER XXIV. The Ladv Anne, or a Runaway HoRsii • • • ■ I Oy CHAPTER XXV. Reuuen Smith 115 CHAPTER XXVI. How IT Ended . i20 CHAPTER XXVII. Ruined, and Going Down-hill • '23 CHAPTER XXVIII, A Job Horse and his Urivik.s ■•••••• 127 CHAPTER XXIX. Cockneys i3» CHAPTER XXX. A Thief • • • . m CHAPTER XXXI. A HUMUUG . . , 140 CHAPTER XXXII. A Horse Fair . 143 CHAPTER XXXIII. A London Cab Horse 149 A m " Index. CHAPTER XXXIV. '*^« , . . . 154 An Old War Horse CHAPTER XXXV. '6' Jerry Barker CHAPTER XXXVI. . . . i " ' ■' I'ooR Ginger . • • • " CHAPTER XLl. ^^^ THE BUTCHER CHAPTER XLIl. 192 THE Election .•••■" CHAPTER XLliI. »9S A Friend in Need . • • • CHAPTER XLIV, , .201 OLD CAPTAIN ANU HIS SUCCESSOR . • • ' CHAPTER XLV. • 205 Jerry's New Year I Iff; Index. xili iPait m. CHAPTER XLVI. ,,^.^ Jakes and the Lady ,,^ CHAPTER XLVI I. Hard Times ... 216 CHAPTER XLVin. Farmer Tuoroughgood and his Grandson Willie . . .221 CHAPTER XLIX. My Last Home . -22; ii ij LIST ^ OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Portrait of Authoress .... ' My earlv home" ' Well, oil! Pet, and how is your little D;»rkie?" ' Making straight for our mcailow " ' The black horse moved no more " ' My mas'cr went with me to the smith's forjje" . ' And there I stood snorting with astonishment and fear " ' Mv coat was brushed every day" .... ' One of those travelling carts hung all over with baskets" 'Liberty" ' As we stood together under the chestnut tree " . ' Come along, lassie, come along" .... 'The bearing rein. It was enough to drive one mad" ' We were often driven about in the park" . ' .Sent up to London and sold at Tattersall's " ' Merrylegs " 'The master on Ginger, the mistress on me" 'A talk in the orchard" ' Russian trotter, trained by the human voice" ' ' Sawyer,' he cried . . . ' is that pony made of flesh and blood ' ' That was a very near touch,' said my master" . ' ' The bridge is broken in the middle,' said John " 'James and the old man left the stable together" ' Coaxing, he led me out of the stable " . "Tis the fire engine " .... ' Now, John, ride for youi life" * The air was frosty, the moon was briijht" ' Only ignorance, only ignorance ! " ' There is a fellow flogging two horses to death " 'The breaking up" ' The first of the party who went were Miss Jessie and Flora" PACK Frontispiece 2 3 7 9 13 «5 17 21 26 27 29 II 34 35 40 43 45 47 52 55 58 68 72 TS 82 83 86 90 93 94 II X V i L ist of I i lustrations. PAGI " They came to bid US good-bye " 95 "'God bless you, John,' she said" 9^ "Earlshall" 98 " She was a perfect horsewoman " loS " My lady's hat was gone, and her long brown hair was streaming behind her'- ii2 " I uttered no sound but stood there and listened" . . , .118 "Obliged to leave the pleasant home" 119 "They were throwing out their legs and showing off their paces " . 145 " Into the great London ihoi-oii;4li are " . 146 "A comfortable clean-smelling stall with plenty of dry straw" . . 147 " A horse down " 1 5 > " We were lifted oft' our legs . . . and swung through the air" . • I55 " By the force of their charge I was driven from the spot where he fell " 159 ". . . On purpose to kill them" 160 " Jerry Barker ■' i6fi "Sunday rest" i. WT.t.i., nil) I'l-.i'. AM) now IS YorK mtti.k dakkie?" I 4 Black Beauty. father has a great name in these parts, and your jijrandfather won the cup two years at the Newmarket races ; your grand- mother had the sweetest temper of any horse I ever knew, and I think you have never seen me kick or bite. I hope you will grow up gentle and good, and never learn bad ways ; do your work with a good will, lift your feet up well when you trot, and never bite or kick even in play " I have never forgotten my mother's advice ; I knew she was a wise old horse, and our master thought a great deal of her. Her name was Duchess, but he often called her Pet. Our master was a good, kind man. He gave us good food, good lodging, and kind words ; he spoke as kindly to us as he did to his little children. We were all fond of him, and my mother loved him very much. When she saw him at the gate, she would neigh with joy, and trot up to him. He would pat and stroke her and say, " Well, old Pet, and how is your little Darkie ? " I was a dull black, so he called me Darkie ; then he would give me a piece of bread, which was very good, and sometimes he brought a carrot for my mother. All the horses would come to him, but I think we were his favourites. My mother always took him to the town on a market day in a light gig. There was a ploughboy, Dick, who sometimes came into our field to pluck blackberries from the hedge. When he had eaten all he wanted, he would have, what he called, fun with the colts, throwmg stones and sticks at them to make them gallop. We did not much mind him, for we could gallop off; but sometimes a stone would hit and hurt us. One day he was at this game, and did not know that the master was in the next field ; but he was there, watching what was going on : over the hedge he jumped in a snap, and catching Dick by the arm, he gave him such a box on the ear as made him roar with the pain and surprise. As soon as we saw the master, we trotted up nearer to see what went on. *' Bad boy ! " he said, " bad boy ! to chase the colts. This \ I My Early Home. 5 is not the first time, nor the second, but it shall be the last — there — take your money and go home, I shall not want you on my farm again." So we never saw Dick any more. Old Daniel, the man who looked after the horses, was just as gentle as our master, so we were well off. ■:b-.w§4?^ •^f^m 1 CHAPTER II. THE HUNT. |\VAS two years old, when a circum- stance happened which I have never forgotten. It was early in the spring ; there had been a little frost in the night, and a light mist still hung over the plantations and meadows. I and the other colts were feeding at the lower part of the field when we heard, quite in the distance, what sounded like the cry of dogs. The oldest of the colts raised his head, pricked his ears, and said, " There are the hounds ! " and immediately cantered off, followed by the rest of us to the upper part of the field, where we could look over the hedge and see several fields beyond. My mother and an old riding horse of our master's were also standing near, and seemed to know all about it. " They have found a hare," said my mother, " and if they come this way, we shall see the hunt." And soon the dogs were all tearing down the field of young wheat next to ours. I never heard such a noise as they made. They did not bark, nor howl, nor whine, but kept on a " yo ! yo, o, o ! yo ! yo, o, o ! " at the top of their voices. After them came a number of men on horseback, some of them in green coats, all galloping as fast as they could. The old horse snorted and looked eagerly after them, and we young colts 8 Black Beauty. wanted to be j;allopin,2^ with them, but the}' wore soon away into the fields lower down ; here it seemed as if they had come to a stand ; the doj^s left off barking, and ran about every way with their noses to the p;round. "They have lost tho scent," said the old horse; "perhaps the hare will get off." " What hare ? " I said. " Oh ! I don't know zv/iaf hare ; likely enough it may be one of our own hares out of the plantation ; any hare they can find will do for the dogs and men to run after ; " and before long the dogs began their " yo ! yo, o, o!" again, and Lick they came all together nt full speed, making straight for our meadow at the part where the high bank and hedge overhang the brook. " Now we shall see the hare," said my mother; and just then a hare, wild with fright, rushed by, and made for the plantation. On came the dogs, they burst over the bank, leapt the stream, and came dashing across the field, followed by the huntsmen. Six or eight men leaped their horses clean over, close up>on the dogs. The hare tried to get through the fence ; it was too thick, and she turned sharp round to make for the road, but it was too late ; the dogs were upon her with their wild cries ; we heard one shriek, and that was the end of her. One of the huntsmen rode up and whipped off the dogs, who would soon have torn her to pieces. He held her up by the leg 'orn and bleedii , and all the gentle- men seemed well pleased. As for me, I was so astonished that I did not at first see what was going on by the brook ; but when 1 did look, there was a sad sight ; two fine hcses were down, one was strug- gling in the stream, and the other was groaning on the grass. One of the riders was getting out of the water covered with mud, the other lay quite still. *' His neck is broke," said my mother. " And serve him right too," said one of the colts. I thought the same, but my mother did not join with us. The Hunt. 9 % "Well! no," she said, " ycu must not say that; but though I am an old horse, and have seen and heard a f^^reat deal, I never yet could make out why men are so fond of this sport ; they often hurt themselves, often spoil good horses, and tear up the fields, and all for a hare or a {o\, or a stag, that they could get more easily some other way ; but we are only horses, and don't know," 1st my was say- re stood )ked on. of thi "TIIF. IlIACK IIOKSr. MOVKP NO MOKK. ' riders had gone to the young man ; but my master, who had been watching what was going on, was the lirst to raise him. His head fell back and his arm3 hung down, and every- one looked very serious. There was no noise now ; even the dogs were quiet, and seemed to know that something was wrong. They carried him to our master's house. I heard afterwards that it was young George Gordon, the squire's only son, a fine, tall young man, and the priele of his family. /* lO Black Beauty. There was now riding off in all directions to the doctor's, to the farrier's, and no doubt to Squire Gordon's, to let him know about his son. When Mr. Bond, the farrier, came to look at the black horse that lay groaning on the grass, he felt him all over, and shook his head ; one of his legs '.vas broken. Then some one ran to our master's house and came back with a gun ; presently there was a loud bang and a dreadful shriek., and then all was still ; the black horse moved no more. My mother seemed much troubled ; she said she had known that horse for years, and that his name was " Rob Roy ; " he was a good bold horse, and there was no vice in him. She never would go to that part of the held afterwards. Not many days after, we heard the church bell tolling for a long time ; and looking over the gate we saw a long ■■jtrange black coach that was covered with black cloth and .vas drawn by black horses; after that came another .ind another and another, and all were black, while the bell kept tolling, tolling. They were carrying young Gordon to the churchyard to bury him. He would never ride again. What they did with Rob Roy I never knew ; but 'twas all for one little hare. CHAPTER in. MY BREAKING IN. WAS now beginning to grow handsome ; my coat had grown fine and soft, and was bright black. I had one white foot, and a pretty white star on .y fore- head. I was thought very handsome ; my master would not sell me till I was four years old ; he said lads ought not to work like men, and colts ought not to work like horses till they were quite grown up. When I was four years old. Squire Gordon came to look at me. He examined my eyes, my mouth, and my legs ; he felt them all down ; and then I had to walk and trot and gallop before him ; he seemed to like me, and said, " When he has been well broken in, he will do very well." My master said he would break me in himself, as he should not like me to be frightened or hurt, and he lost no time about it, for the next day he began. Every one may not know what breaking in is, therefore I will describe it. It means to teach a horse to wear a saddle and bridle and to carry on his back a man, woman, or child; to go just the way they wish, and to go quietly. Besides this, d a breechi ipper, ling. and to stand still whilst they are put on ; then to have a cart or a chaise fixed behind him, so that he cannot walk or trot without dragging it after him : and he must go fast or slow, just as his driver wishes. He must never start at what he sees, nor speak to other horses, nor bite, nor kick, nor have n I 2 Black Beauty. any will of his own ; but always do his master's will, even thouf^h he may be very tired or hunj,fry ; but the worst of all is, when his harness is once on, he may neither jump for joy nor lie down for wearmess. So you see this breaking in is a great thing. I had of course long been used to a halter and a headstall, and to be led about in the fields and lanes quietly, but now I was to have a ')it and bridle ; my master gave me some oats as usual, and after a good deal of coaxing, he got the bit into my mouth, and the bridle fixed, but it was a nasty thing ! Those who have never had a bit in their mouths cannot think how bad it feels ; a great piece of cold hard steel as thick as a man's finger to be pushed into one's mouth, between one's teeth and over one's tongue, with the ends coming out at the corner of your mouth, and held fast there bj' straps over your head, under your throat, round your nose, and under your chin ; so that no way in the world can you get rid of the nasty hard thing ; it is very bad ! yes, very bad ! at least I thought so ; but I knew my n^iother always wore one when she went out, and all horses did when they were grown up ; and so, vvhat with the nice oats, and what with m.y master's pats, kind words, and gentle ways, I got to wear my bit and bridle. Next came the saddle, but that was not half so bad ; my master put it on my back very gently, whilst old Daniel held my head ; he then made the girths fast under my body, patting and talking to me all the time ; then I had a few oats, then a little leadiiig about, and this he did every da\ till I began to look for the oats and the sadd'e. At length one morning, my master got on my back and rode me round the meadow on the soft grass. It certainly did feel queer ; but I must say I felt rather proud to carry tr.y master, and as he continued to ride me a little every day, I soon became accus- tomed to it. The next unpleasant business was putting on the iron shoes; that too was very hard at first. My master went with me to the smith" forge, to see that I was not hurt or got any fright. M *' MY MASIKK WKM WITH MK K) IlIK SMITHS TORIIK." M Black Beauty. The blacksmith took my feet in his hand one after the other and cut away some of the hoof. It did not pain me, so I stood still on three legs till he had done them all. Then he took a piece of iron the shape of my foot, and clapped it on, and drose some nails through the shoe quite into my hoof, so that the shoe was firmly on. My feet felt very stiff and heavy, but in time I got used to it. And now having got so far, my master went on to break me to harness ; there were more new things to wear. First, a stiff heavy collar just on my neck, and a bridle with great side- pieces against my eyes called blinkers, and blinkers indeed they were, for I could not see on either side, but only straight in front of me ; next there was a small saddle with a nasty stiff strap that went right under my tail ; that was the crupper. I hated the crupper — to have my long tail doubled up and poked through that strap was almost as bad as the bit. I never felt more like kicking, but of course I could not kick such a good master, and so in time I got used to everything, and could do my work as well as my mother. I must not forget to mention one part of my training, which I have always considered a very great advantage. My master sent me for a fortnight to a neighbouring farmer's, who had a meadow which was skirted on one side by the railway. Here were some sheep and cows, and I was turned in amongst them. I shall never forget the first train that ran by. I was feed- ing quietly near the pales which separated the meadow from the railway, when I heard a strange sound at a distance, and before I knew whence it came — with a rush and a clatter, and a puffing out of smoke — a long black train of something flew by, and was gone almost before I could draw my breath. I turned, and galloped to the further side of the meadow as fast as I could go, and there I stood snorting with astonishment and fear. In the course of the day many other trains went by, some more slowly ; these drew up at the station close by, and sometimes made an awful shriek and groan before they stopped. I thought it very dreadful, but the cows went on f , ^"^ fMis^^ •;. ■>■ .\'- .- . \ ai-^ 16 1 ' Black B entity. eatinf^ very quietly, and hardly raised their heads as the black frightful thing came puffing and grinding past. For the first few days I could not feed in peace ; but as I found that this terrible creature never came into the field, or did me any harm, I began to disregard it, and very soon I cared as little about the passing of a train as the cows and sheep did. Since then I have seen many horses much alarmed and restive at the sight or sound of a steam engine ; but thanks to my good master's care, I am as fearless at railway stations as in my own stable. Now if any one wants to break in a young horse well, that is the way. My master often drove me in double harness with my mother, because she was steady, and could teach me how to go better than a strange horse. She told me the better I be- haved, the better I should be treated, and that it was wisest always to do my best to please my master ; " but," said she, " there are a great many kinds of men ; there are good, thoughtful men like our master, that any horse may be proud to serve ; but there are bad, cruel men, who never ought to have a horse or dog to call their own. Beside, there are a great many foolish men, vain, ignorant, and careless, who never trouble theinselves to think ; these spoil more horses than all, just for want of sense ; they don't mean it, but they do it for all that. I hope you will fall into good hands ; but a horse never knows who may buy him, or who may drive him ; it is all a chance for us, but still I say, do your best wherever it is, and keep up your good name." CHAPTER IV. m BIRTWICK PARK. T this time I used to stand in the stable, and my coat was brushed every day till it shone like a rook's wing. It was early in May, when there came a man from Squire Gordon's, who took me away to the Hall. My master said, " Good bye, Darkie ; be a good horse, and always do your best." I could not say " good- bye," so I put my nose into his hand; he patted me kindly, and I left my first hon>e. As I lived some years with Squire Gordon, I may as well tell something about the place. Squire Gordon's Park skirted the village of Birtwick, It was entered by a large iron gate, at which stood the first lodge, and then you trotted along on a smooth road between clumps of large old trees ; then another lodge and another gate, which brought you to the house and the gardens. Beyond this lay C tl 1« *v — MY H)AT WAS HRUSIIKI) K\ ICKV HAY. f\ iS Black Ihaitty tlu^ lioTiu" padddck. tlic old orclKird and the stables. Tlu>re was accoiiuiiod.itioii lor inaiiv horses ami carriai^'es ; but I need only desi riix- the stable into which I was taken ; this was very roi>iny. witli four j^ood stalls; a lanre swin,i;inf» window opened into tlie yard, which made it pleasant and airy. The first stall was a larj^c^ scpiare one, shut in behind with a wooden ,i:ale ; the others were common stalls, j^ood stalls, liut not nearly so larj^'c ; it had a low rack for hay and a low m ini^'er fiM" corn ; it was called a loose box, bi'cause the horse that was put into it was not tied up. but left loose, to do as he liked. It is a ,i;reat thiii!^ to have a loose box. Into this fine box the j^room put me ; it was clean, sweet, and airy. I never was in a better box than that, and the sides were not so hij^h but that I could see all that went on throuj^h the iron rails that were at the top. He ju'ave me sotne very nice oats, he pat'od me, spoke kindly, and then went away. When I had eatiMi my corn, I looked round. In the stall next to mine, stooil a little fat grey pcMiy, with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty head, and a pert little nose. I put my head up to the iron rails at the top of my box, and said. " Hmv (V^ you do? what is your name ? " He turneil round as far as his halter would allow, held up his heail, and said, '* My name is Merryle<::s : I am very handsome, I carry the younj; ladies on my back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in the low chair. They chink a great deal of me. and so iUk\s James. Are you going to live next door to ;i)e in the lnix ? " I said " Yes." "Well, then." he said, " I hope you are good-tempered; I lo not like any one next door who bites." Just then a horse's head looked over from the stall beyond ; the ears were laid back, and the eye looked rather ill-tempered. This was a tall chestnut mare, with a long handsome neck . she looked across to me and said, — " So it is }ou who have turned me out of my box ; it is a very nirtivick Park. 19 \ stranf,'o thin^ for a colt like you, to come and turn a lady out of her own home." " I bep your pardon," I said. " I have turned no one out ; the man who hrouf,'ht me put me here, and I had nothing,' to do with it ; and as to my bein/,' a rolt, I am turned four years old, and am a {,aovvn-up horse: I never had words yet with horse or mare, and it is my wish to live at peace." "Well," she said, "we shall see ; of course I do not want to have words with a youn^' thinj? like yon." I said no more. In the afternoon when she went out, Merrylegs told me i.' about it. " The thing is this," said Merrylegs, " Ginger has a bad habit of biting and snapping; that is why they call her Ginger, and when she was in the loose box, she used to snap very much. One day she bit James in the arm and made it bleed, and so Miss F'lora and Miss Jessie, who are very fond of me, were afraid to come into the stable. They used to bring me nice things to eat, an apple or a carrot, or a piece of bread, but after Ginger stood in that box, they dare not come, and I missed them very m' ch. I hope they will now come again, if you do not bite or snap." I told him I never bit anything but grass, hay, and corn, and could not think what pleasure Ginger found in it. " Well, I don't think she does find pleasure," says Merry- legs ; " it is just a bad habit ; she says no one was ever kind to her, and why should she not bite ? Of course it is a very bad habit ; but I am sure, if all she says be true, she must have been very ill-used before she came here. John does all he can to please her, and James does all he can, and ou:* master never uses a whip if a horse acts right ; so I think she might be good-tempered here ; you see," he said with a wise look, " I am twelve years old ; I know a great deal, and I can tell you there is not a better place for a horse all round the country than this. John is the best groom that ever was, he has been here fourteen years ; and you never saw such a kind boy as James is, so that it is all Ginger's own fault that she did not stay in that box." c 2 f\ \ CHAPTER V. A FAIR START. HE name of the coachman was John Manly; he had a wife and one little child, and they lived in the coachman's cottage, very near the stables. The next morning he took me into the yard and gave me a good grooming, and just as I was going into my box with my coat soft and bright, the Squire came in to look at me, and seemed pleased. "John," he said, "I meant to have tried the new horse this morning, but I have other business. You may as well take him a round after breakfast ; go by the common and the Highwood, and back by the watermill and the river; that wil' show his paces." " I will, sir," said John. After breakfast he came and fitted me with a bridle. He was very particular in letting out and taking in the straps, to fit my head comfortably ; then he brought the saddle, that was not broad enough for my back ; he saw it in a minute and went for another, which fitted nicely. He rode me first slowly, then a trot, then a canter, and when we were on the common he gave me a light touch with his whip, and we had a splendid gallop. " Ho, ho ! my boy," he said, as he pulled me up, " you would like to follow the hounds, I think." As we came back through the Park we met the Squire and Mrs. Gordon walking; they stopped, and John jumped off. A Fair Stan, 21 " Well, John, how does he go ? " " First-rate, sir," answered John, " he is as fieet as a deer, and has a fine spirit, too ; but the lij,'htest touch of the rein will guide him. Down at the end of the common we met one of those travelHnp; carts hung all over with baskets, rugs, and such like ; you know, sir, many horses will not pass those carts quietly ; he just took a good look at it, and then went on as ^W^ was at the hall door as he rode up. " Well, my dear," she said, " how do you like him ? " " He is exactly what John said," he replied , " a pleasanter creature I never wish to mount. What shall we call him ? " "Would you like Ebony?" said she, "he is as black as ebony." " No, not Ebony." " Will you call him ' Blackbird,' like your uncle's old horse ? " " No, he is far hriudsomer than old Blackbird ever was." " Yes," she said, " he is really quite a beauty, and he has such a sweet good-tempered face and such a tine intelligent eye — what do you say to calling him ' Black Beauty ' ? " " Black Beauty — why, yes, I think that is a very good name. If you like, it shall be his name," and so it was. When John went into the stable, he told James that master and mistress had chosen a good sensible English name for me, that meant something, not like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They both laughed, and James said, " If it was not for bringing back the past, I should have named him ' Rob Roy,' for I never saw two horses more alike." "That's no wonder," said John, "didn't you know that farmer Grey's old Duchess was the mother of them both ? " I had never heard that before, and so poor Rob Roy who was killed at that hunt was my brother ! I did not wonder that my mother was so troubled. It seems that horses have no relations ; at least, they never knov/ each other after they are sold. A Fair Start. 23 John seemed very proud of me ; he used to make my mane and tail almost as smooth as a lady's hair, and he would talk to me a great deal ; of course I did not understand all he said, but I learned more and more to know what he vicant, and what he wanted me to do. I grew very fond of him, he was so gentle and kind, he seemed to know just how a hor:^e feels, and when he cleaned me, he knew the tender places, and the ticklish places ; when he brushed my head, he went as care- fully over my eyes as if they were his own, and never stirred up any ill-temper. James Howard, the stable boy, was just as gentle and plea- sant in his wa)', so I thought myself well off. There was another man who helped in the yard, but he had very little to do with Ginger and me. A few days after this I had to go out with (unger in the carriage. I wondered how we should get on together ; but except laying her ears back when I was led up to her, she behaved very well. She did her work honestl}', and did her full share, and I never wish to have a better partner in double harness. When we came to a hill, instead of slacken- ing her pace, she would throw her weight right into the collar, and pull away straight up. We had both tht; same sort of courage at our work, and John had oftener to hold us in than to urge us forward ; he never had to use the whip with either of us ; then our paces were much the same, and I found it very easy to keep step with her when trotting, which made it pleasant, and master always liked it when we kept step well, and so did John. After we had been out two or three times together we grew tpiite friendly and sociable, which made me feel very much at home. As for Me'rylegs, he and I soon became great friends; he was such a cheerful, plucky, good-tempered little fellow, that he was a favourite with every one, and especially with Miss Jessie and Flora, who used to ride him about in the orchard, and have fine games with him and their little dog I'Visky. Our master had two other horses th;it stood in another m 24 Black Beauty. stable. One was Justice, a roan cob, used for riding, or for the luggage cart ; the other was an old brown hunter, named Sir Oliver ; he was past work now, but was a great favourite with the master, who gave him the run of the park ; he some- times did a little light carting on the estate, or carried one of the young ladies when they rode out with their father ; for he was very gentle, and could be trusted with a child as well as Merrylegs. The cob was a strong, well-made, good-tempered horse, and we sometimes had a little chat in the paddock, but of course I could not be so intimate with him as with Ginger, who stood in the same stable. • 'i'ij!!i;(;;:!i;r/''^ni'j '';!'■' «► H r,'- CHAPTER Vr. LIBERTY. WAS quite happy in my new place, and if there was one thins: that I missed, it must not • be thouf^ht I was discontented ; all who had to do with me were good, and I had a light airy stable and the best of food. What more could I want ? Why, liberty ! For three years and a half of my life I had had all the liberty I could wish for ; but now, week after week, month after month, and no doubt year after year, I must stand up in a stable night and day •except when I am wanted, and then I must be just as steady and quiet as any old horse who has worked twenty years. Straps here and straps there, a bit in my mouth, and blinkers over my eyes. Now, I am not complaining, for I know it must be so. I only mean to say that for a young horse full of strength and spirits, who has been used to some large field or plain, where he can fling up his head, and toss up his tail and gallop away at full speed, then round and back again with a snort to his companions — I say it is hard never to have a bit more liberty to do as you like. Sometimes, when I have had less exercise than usual, I have felt so full of life and spring, that when John has taken me out to exercise, I really could not keep (piiet ; do vvhat I would, it seemed as if I must jump, or dance, or prance, and /' trmti Mill WW 2b Black Dtaiily, many a good shake I know I must have given him, specially at the first ; but he was alwaj's good and patient. " Steady, steady, my boy," he would say ; " wait a bit, and we'll have a good swing, and soon get the tickle out of your feet." Then as soon as we were out of the village, he would give me a few miles at a spanking trot, and then bring me back as fresh as before, on'y clear of the fidgets, as he called them. Spiritcr horses, when not enough exercised, are o^ten J LIBERTY. called skittish, when it is only play; and some grooms will punish them, but our John did not, he knew it was only high spirits. Still, he had his own ways of making me understand by the tone of his voice or the touch of the rein. If he was very serious and quite determined, I always knew it by his voice, and that had more power with me than anything else, for I was very fond of him. I ought to say that bometimes we had our liberty for a few hours ; this used to be on fine Sundays in the summer-time. Liberty. 27 The carriage never went out on Sundays, because the church was not far off. It was a great treat to us to be turned out into the home paddock or the old orchard ; the grass was so cool and soft to 'AS WE STOOD TOinnilUR UMIKli nilC CIIKSTNUT TkKL.' our feet, the air so sweet, and the freedom to do as we liked was so pleasant ; to gallop, to lie down, and roll over on our backs, or to nibble the sweet grass. Then it was a very good time for talking, as we stood together under the shade of the large chestnut tree. CHAPTER VII. GINGER. NE day when Ginger and I were standing alone in the shade we had a great deal of talk ; she wanted to know all about my bringing up and breaking in, and I told her. "Well," said she, "if I had had your bringing up I might have been as good a temper as you are, but now I don't believe I ever shall." " Why not ? " I said. " Because it has been all so different with me," she replied. " I never had any one, horse or man, that was kind to me, or that I cared to please, for in the first place I was taken from my mother as soon as I was weaned, and put with a lot of other young colts ; none of them cared for me, and I cared for none of them. There was no kind master like yours to look after me, and talk to me, and bring me nice things to eat. The man that had the care of us never gave me a kind word in my life. I do not mean that he ill-used me, but he did not care for us one bit further than to see that we had plenty to eat and shelter in the winter. A footpath ran through our field, and very often the great boys passing through would lling stones to make us gallop. I was never hit, but one fine young colt was badly cut in the face, and I should think it would be a scar for life. We. did not care for them, but of course it made us more wild, and we settled it in our minds Gtitgcr, COME AI.O.NC, I.ASSIK, COME ALONG, that boys were our enemies. We had very good fun in the free meadows, galloping up and down and chasing each other round and round the field ; then standing still under the shade of the trees. But when it came to breaking in, that was a bad time for me ; several men came to catch me, and when at last they closed me in at one corner of the iield, one caught me by the forelock, another caught me by the nose, and held it so tight I could hardly draw my breath ; then another took my under jaw in his hard hand and wrenched my mouth open, and so by force they got on the halter, and the ^o Black Beauty. bar into my tnoiith ; then one dr.ipfpfed ine alonjj by the halter, another tloj^f^in.t,' behind, and this was the first experience I had of men's kindness, it was all force ; they did not give me a chance to know what they wanted. I was high bred and had a great deal of spirit, and was very wild, no doubt, and gave them, I daresay, plenty of trouble, but then it was dread- ful to be shut up in a stall day after day instead of having my liberty, and I fretted and pined and wanted to get loose. You know yourself, it's bad enough when you have a kind master and plenty of coaxing, but there was nothing of that sort for me. " There was one — the old master, Mr. Rvder — who I think could soon have brought me round, and could have done any- thing with me, but he had given up all that hard part of the trade to his son and to another experienced man, and he only came at times to oversee. His son was a strong, tall, bold man ; they called him Samson, and he used to boast that he had never found a horse that could throw him. There was no gentleness in him as there was in his father, but only hardness, a hard voice, a hard eye, a hard hand, and I felt from the first that what he wanted was to wear all the spirit out of me, and just make me into a quiet, humble, obedient piece of horse-flesh. ' Horse-flesh ! ' Yes, that is all that he thought about," and Ginger stamped her foot as if the very thought of him made her angry. And she went on ; " If I did not do exactly what he wanted, he would get put out, and make me run round with that long rein in the training field till he had tired me out. I think he drank a good deal, and I am quite sure that the oftener he drank the worse it was for me. One day he had worked me hard in every way he could, and when I lay tknvn I was tired and miserable, and angry ; it all seemed so hard. The next morning he came for me early, and ran me round again for a long time. I had scarcely had an hour's rest, when he came again for me with a saddle and bridle and a new kind of bit. I could never quite tell how it came about ; he had only just mounted me on the training Ginccf pfrnund, when somothiiif,' I did put him diit of temper, and he rhucked me '-"rd witli the rein. The new hit w;is very pain- fid, and I reaied uj) suddenly, which an;;ered him still more, and he bej^an to tloi,' me. I felt my whole spirit set a(^'ainst him, and I be,i,'an to kick, and phuif^e, and rear as I had n(;ver done before, and we had a re;^nlar fif^ht : for a lonf^ time he stuck to the saddle and punished me cruelly with his whip and spurs, but my blood was thoronj^hly up, and I cared ff)r nothing he could do if only I could j^et him off. At last, after a terrible struj,'jj;le, I threw him off backwards. I heard him fall heavily on the turf, and without lookinj^ behind me, I f^alloped off to the other end of the field ; there I turned round and saw my persecutor slowly risinj; from the j^round and fjoinf^ into the stable. I stood under an oak tree and watched, but no one came to catch mc. The time went on, the sun was very 1k»i, the flies swarmed round me, and settled on my bleedin;j; flanks where the spurs had (hif^ in. I felt hunj^'ry, for J[ had not eaten since the early morning,', but there was not enouf^h grass in that meadow for a goose to live on. I wanted to lie down and rest, but with the saddle strapped tightly on, there was no comfort, and there was not a drop of water to dri'ik. The afternoon wore on, and the sun got low. I saw the ciher colts led in, and I knew they were having a good feed. " At last, just as the sun went down, I saw the old master come out with a sieve in his hand. He was a very fine old gentleman with quite white hair, but his voice was what I should know him by amongst a thousand. It was not high, nor yet low, Init full, and clear, and kind, and when he gave orders it was so steady and decided, that everyone knew, both horses and men, that he expected to be obeyed. He came quietly along, now and then shaking the oats alxnit that he had in the sieve, and speaking cheerfully and gently to me, ' Come along, lassie, come along, lassie ; come along, come along.' I stood still and let him come up ; he held the oats to me, and I began to eat without fear ; his voice took all my fear away. He stood by, patting and stroking me whilst I was eating, and seeing i. ¥ 32 Black Beauty the clots of blood on my side he seemed very vexed ; * Poor lassie ! it was a bad business, a bad business ! ' then he quietly took the rein and led me to the stable ; just at the door stood Samj I k back and ison. 1 laid my ears back ana snapped at him. ' Stand back,' said the master, * p.nd keep out of her \tay ; you've done a bad day's work for this filly.' He growled out something about a vicious brute. ' Hark ye,' said the father, ' a bad-tempered man will never make a good-tempered horse. You've not learned your trade yet, Samson.' Then he led me into my box, took off the saddle and bridle with his own hands, and tied me up ; then he called for a pail of warm water and a sponge, took off his coat, and while the stableman held the pail, he sponged my sides a good while so tenderly that I was sure he knew how sore and bruised they were. ' Whoa ! my pretty one,' he said, * stand still, stand still.' His very voice did me good, and the bathing was very comfortable. The skin was so broken at the corners of my mouth that I could not eat the hay, the stalks hurt me. He looked closely at it, shook his head, and told the man to fetch a good bran mash and put some meal into it. How good that mash was ! and so soft and healing to my mouth. He stood by all the time I was eating, stroking me and talking to the man. ' If a high- mettled creature like this,' said he, ' can't be broken in by fair means, she will never be good for anything.' "After that he often came to see me, and when my mouth was healed, the other breaker, Job they called him, went on training me ; he was steady and thoughtful, and I soon learned what he wanted." ■,A 'v '•/■ ••the iikakim; ki:i.\. it was liNOuaii to ukive onk mad. CHAPTER VIII. ginger's SrOKY CONTINUED. HE next time that Ginger and I were together m the paddock, she told me about her hrst place. " After my breaking in," she said, " I was bought by a dealer to match another chestnut horse. For some weeks he drove us together, and then we were sold to a fashionable gentleman, and w^Te sent up to London. I had been driven with a bearing rein by the dealer, and I hated it worse than anything else ; but in this place we were reined far tighter; the coachman and his master thinking we looked more stylish so. We were often driven about in the Park and other fashionable places. D 1 H » 34 Black Beauty. You who never had a bearing rein on, don't know what it is, but I can tell you it is dreadful. " I like to toss my head about, and hold it as high as any horse ; but fancy now yourself, if you tossed your head up high and were obliged to hold it there, and that for hours together, not able to move it at all, except with a jerk still higher, your neck aching till you did not know how to bear it. Beside that, to have two bits instead of one ; and mine was a sharp one, it hurt my tongue and my jaw, and the blood from my tongue coloured the froth that kept flying from my lips, as I chafed and fretted at the bits and rein; it was worst when we had to stand by the hour waiting for our mis- tress at some granc par- ty or enter- tainment ; and if I fretted or stamped with im- patience the whip was laid on. It was enough to drive one •'WE WERE OFTEN DRIVEN AKOUT IN THE PARK." mad." 4 ' ™1 'sent up to LONDON AND bOLD AT TATTERSALL'a.'* D ? . i 'I f ; 36 Black Beauty. " Did not your master take any thought for you ? " I said. " No," said she, " he only cared to have a styHsh turn-out, as they call it ; I think he knew very little about horses, he left that to his coachman, who told him I was an irritable temper; that I had not been well broken to the bearing rein, but I should soon get used to it ; but iie was not the man to do it, for when I was in the stable, miserable and angry, instead of being soothed and tjuieted by kindness, I got only a surly word or a blow. If he had been civil, I would have tried to bear it. I was willing to work, and ready to work hard too ; but to be tormented for nothing but their fancies angered me. What right had they to make me suffer like that ? Besides the sore- ness in iny mouth and the pain in my neck, it always made my windpipe feel bad, and if I had stopped there long, I know it would have spoiled my breathing; but I grew more and ...ore restless and irritable, I could not help it ; and I began to snap and kick when any one came to harness me ; for this the groom be-'t me, and one day, as they had just buckled us into the carriage, and were straining my head up with that rein, I began to plunge and kick with all my might. I soon broke a lot of harness, and kicked myself clear ; so that was an end of that place. " After this, I was sent to Tattersall's to be sold ; of course I could not be warranted free from vice, so nothing was said about that. My handsome appearance and good paces soon brought a gentleman to bid for me, and I was bought by another dealer ; he tried me in all kimls of ways and with different bits, and he soon found out what I could not bear. At last he drove me quite without a bearing rein, and then sold me as a perfectly quiet horse to a gentleman in the country ; he was a good master, and I was getting on very well, but his old groom left him and a new one came. This man was as hard- tempered and hard-handed as Samson ; he always spoke in a rough, impatient voice, and if I diil not move in the stall the moment he wanted me, he would hit me above the hocks with his stable broom or the fork, whichever he might have in Giiioc/s Stuiy Continued. n I his hand. Everythinpj he did was roup^h, and I bof^'an to hate him ; he wanted to make me afraid of him, but I was too high- nettled for that ; and one day when he hail aggravated nie more than usual, I bit him, which of course put him in a great rage, and he began to hit me about the head with a riding whip. After that, he never dared to come into my stall again, either my heels or my teeth were ready for him, and he knew it. I was quite quiet with my master, but of course he listened to what the man said, and so I was sold again. " The same dealer heard of me, and said he thought he knew one place where I should do well. ' 'Twas a pity,' he said, ' that such a fine horse should go to the bad, for want of a real good chance,' and the end of it was that I came here not long before yOu did ; but I had then made up my mind that men were my natural enemies, and inat I must defend myself. Of course it is very different her , but who knows how long it will last ? I wish I could think about things as )'ou do ; but I can't after all I have gone through." "Well," I said, "I think it would be a real shame if you were to bite or kick John or James." "I don't mean to," she said, "while they are good to me. I did bite James once pretty sharp, but John said, ' Try her with kindness,' and instead of punishing me as I expected, James came to me with his arm bound up, and brought me a bran mash and stroked me ; and I have never snapped at him since, and I won't either." I was sorry for Ginger, but of course I knew very little then, and I thought most likely she made the worst of it ; however, I found that as the weeks went on, she grew much more gentle and cheerful, and had lost the watchful, cUtiant look that she used to turn on any strange person who came near her; and one day James said, " I do believe that mare is getting fond of me, she quite whinnied after me this morning when I had been rubbing her forehead." " Aye, aye, Jim, 'tis the Birtwick balls/' said John, " she'll be as good as Black Beauty by-and-by ; kindness is all the !i 38 Black Beauty. physic she wants, poor thing ! " Master noticed the change too, and one day when he got out of the carriage and came to speak to us as he often did, he stroked her beautiful neck,. " Well, my pretty one, well, how do things go with you now ? you are a good bit happier than when you came to us, I think." She put her nose up to him in a friendly, trustful way, while he rubbed it gently. " We shall make a cure of her, John," he said. " Yes, sir, she's wonderfully improved, she's not the same creature that she was ; it's the Birtwick balls, sir," said John, laughing. This was a little joke of John's ; he used to say that a regular course of the Birtwick horse-balls would cure almost any vicious horse ; these balls, he said, were made up of patience and gentleness, firmness and petting, one pound of each to be mixed up with half-a-pint of common sense, and given to the horse every day. CHAPTER IX. MERRYLEGS. R. BLOMEFIELD, the Vicar, had a lar!:::e family of boys and girls ; sometimes they used to come and play with Miss Jessie and Flora. One of the girls was as old as Miss Jessie ; two of the boys were older, and there were several little ones. When they came, there was plenty of work for Merrylegs, for nothing pleased them so much as getting on him by turns and riding him all about the orchard and the home paddock, and this they would do by the hour together. One afternoon he had been out with them a long time, and when James brought him in and put on his halter, he said, — " There, you rogue, mind how you behave yourself, or we shall get into trouble." " What have you been doing, Merrylegs ? " I asked. " Oh I " said he, tossing his little head, " I have only been giving those young people a lesson, they did not know when they had had enough, nor when I had had enough, so I just pitched them off backwards, that was the only thing they could understand." " What ? " said I, " you threw the children off? I thouglit you did know better than that I Did you throwMiss Jessie or Miss Flora ? " He looked very much offended, and said, — " Of course not, I would not do such a thing for the best oats that ever came into the stable ; why, I am as careful of our young ladies as the master could be, and as for the little M """ — nr'iifiriri III 40 Black Beauty. ones, it is I who teach them to ride. When they seem frightened or a htile unsteady on my back, I go as smooth and as quiet as old pussy when she is after a bird ; and when they are all right, I go on again faster, you see, just to use them to it ; so don't you trouble yourself preaching to me ; I am the best friend, and the best riding master those children have. It is not them, it is the boys ; boys," said he, shaking his mane, " are quite different ; they must be broken in, as ' MKRRYLF.GS. we were broken in when we were colts, and just be taught what's what. The other children had ridden me about for nearly two hours, and then the boys thought it was their turn, and .'o it wjs, and I was quite agreeable. They rode me by turns, and I galloped them about up and down the fields and all about the orchard for a good hour. They had each cut a great hazel stick for a riding whip, and laid it on a little too hard ; but I took it in good part, till at last I thought we had Merrylegs. 4^ had enouf^h, so I stopped two or three times by way of a hint. Boys, you see, think a horse or pony is Hke a steam engine or a thrashing machine, and can go on as long and as fast as they please ; they never think that a pony can get tired, or have any feelings; so as the one who was whipping me could not understand, I just rose up on my hind legs and let him slip off behind — that was all ; he mounted me again, and I did the same. Then the other boy got up, and as soon as he began to use his stick I laid him on the grass, and so on, till they were able to understand, that was all. They are not bad boys ; they don't wish to be cruel. I like them very well ; but you see I had to give them a lesson. \y hen they brought me to James and told him, I think he was very angry to see such big sticks. He said they were only fit for drovers or gipsies, and not for young gentlemen." " If I had been you," said Ginger, " I would have given those boys a good kick, and that would have given them a lesson." " No doubt you would," said Merrylegs, " but then I am not quite such a fool (begging your pardon) as to anger our master or make James ashamed of me ; besides, those children are under my charge when they are riding ; I tell you they are intrusted to me. Why, only the other day I heard our master say to Mrs. Blomefield, ' My dear madam, you need not be anxious about the children, my old Merrylegs will take as much care of them as you or I could : I assure you I would not sell that pony for any money, he is so perfectly good- tempered and trustworthy ; ' and do you think I am such an ungrateful brute as to forgot all the kind treatment I have had here for five years, and all the trust they place in me, and turn vicious because a couple of ignorant boys used me badly? No ! no ! you never had a good place where they were kind to you ; and so you don't know, and I'm sorry for you, but I can tell you good places make good horses. I wouldn't vex c people anyi ; 1 1 said Merrylegs, and he gave a low "ho, ho, ho," through iA 42 Black Beauty. his nose, as he used to do in the morning when he heard James's footstep at the door. " Besides," he went on, " if I took to kicking, where should I be ? Why, sold off in a jiffy, and no character, and I might find myself slaved about under a butcher's boy, or worked to death at some seaside place where no one cared for me, except to find out how fast I could go, or be flogged along in some cart with three or four great men in it going out for a Sunday spree, as I have often seen in the place I lived in before I came here ; no," said he, shaking his head> " I hope I shall never come to that." ,!>- i i R — — < '-• r— -" 5— T-r— aM '^ J „ ■ « ■■?»■' — T",!. •!•"', — ••THK master on CilNOF.R, THK MlbTRKSS ON MB. CHAPTER X. A TALK IN THE ORCHARD. INGER and I were not of the regular tall carriage horse breed, we had more of the racing blood in us. We stood about fifteen and a half hands high ; we were therefore just as good for riding as we were for driving, and our master used to say that he disliked either horse or man that could do but one thing ; and as he did not want to show off in London Parks, he preferred a more active and useful kind of horse. As for us, our greatest pleasure was when we were saddled for a riding party ; the master on Ginger, the mistress on me, and the young ladies on Sir Oliver /* 44 Black Beauty. and Morrvlt\i,'s. It was so cheerful to be trottinj^ and canterinj; all toj^a^her, that it always put us in hij::h spirits. I had the best of it, for I always carried the mistress; her weif^ht was little, her \(Mce was sweet, and her liand was so light on the ri'in. that I was guidetl almost without feeling it. Oh ! if people knew what a comfort to horses a light hand is, and liinv it keeps a good mouth and a good temper, they surely would not chuck, and drag, and pull at the rein as they often do. Our mouths are so teiuier, that where they have not htiMi sjioileti or hardened with bad or ignorant treatment, they feel the slightest movement of the driver's hand, and we know in an instant what is required of us. Mj- mouth had never been spoiled, and I believe that was why the mistress preferred me to ("linger, although her paces were certainly quite as good. She used t)ften to envy me, and said it was all the fault of breaking in, and the gag bit in London, that her mouth was not so perfect as mine ; and then old Sir Oliver would say, "There, there! don't vex yourself; you have the greatest honour ; a mare that can carry a tall man of our master's weight, with all your spring and sprightly action, does not need to hold her head down because she does not carry the lady ; we horses must take things as they come, and always be contented and willing so long as we are kindly u^ed." I had often wondered how it was that Sir Oliver had such a very short tail ; it really was only six or seven inches long, with a tassel of hair hanging from it ; and on one of our holidays in the orchard I ventured to ask him by what accident it was that he had lost his tail. " Accident ! " he snorted with a fierce look, " it was no accident ! it was a cruel, shameful, cold- blooded act ! When I was young I was taken to a place where these cruel things were done ; I was tied up, and made fast so that I could not stir, and then they came and cut oft my long beautiful tail, through the flesh and through the bone, and took it away."' " How dreadful ! " I exclaimed. A Talk in the Orchara. 45 "Dreadful! ah! it was dreadful; but it was not only the pain, though that was terrible and lasted a long time ; it was not only the indignity of having my best ornament taken from me, though that was bad ; but it was this, how could I ever brush the ilies off my sides and my hind legs anymore? You who have tails just whisk the flies off without thinking about it, and you can't tell what a torment it is to have them settle upon you and sting and sting, and have nothing in the world to lash them off with. I tell you it is a life-long wrong, and a life-long loss ; but, thank Heaven 1 they don't do it now." m y^- Y. "A TALK IN Till-; OR(IIAU|i. .>i- 46 Black Beauty, " What did they do it for then ? " said Ginpfer. " For fashion ! " .aid the old horse with a stamp of his foot ; " for fashion ! if you know what that means ; there was not a well-bred young horse in my time that had not his tail docked in that shameful way, just as if the good God that made us did not know what we wanted and what looked best." '* I suppose it is fashion that makes them strap our heads up with those horrid bits that I was tortured with in London," said Ginger. " Of course it is," said he ; " to my mind, fashion is one of the wickedest things in the world. Now look, for instance, at the way they serve dogs, cutting off their tails to make them look plucky, and shearing up their pretty little ears to a point to make them look sharp, forsooth. I had a dear friend once, a brown terrier ; * Skye ' they called her, she was so fond of me, that she never would sleep out of my stall ; she made her bed under the manger, and there she had a litter of five as pretty little puppies as need be ; none were drowned, for they were a valuable kind, and how pleased she was with them 1 and when they got their eyes open and crawled about, it was a real pretty sight ; but one day the man came and took them all away ; I thought he might be afraid I should tread upon them. But it was not so ; in the evening poor Skye brought them back again, one by one in her mouth; not the happy little things that they were, but bleeding and crying pitifully ; they had all had a piece of their tails cut off, and the soft flap of their pretty little ears was cut quite off. How their mother licked them, and how troubled she was, poor thing! I never forgot it. They healed in time, and they forgot the pain, but the nice soft flap that of course was intended to pro- tect the delicate part of their ears from dust and injury, was gone for ever. Why don't they cut their own children's ears into points to make them look sharp? why don't they cut the end off their noses to make them look plucky ? one would be just as sensible as the other. What right have they to torment and disfigure God's creatures ? " A Talk in the Orchard. 47 Sir Oliver, though he was so gentle, was a fiery old fellow, and what he said was all so new to me and so dreadful, that I found a bitter feeling toward men rise up in my mind that I never had before. Of course Ginger was much excited ; she flung up her head with flashing eyes, and distended nostrils, declaring that men were both brutes and blockheads. " Who talks about blockheads ? " said Merrylegs, who just came up from the old apple tree, where he had been rubbing himself against the low branch ; " Who talks about block- heads ? I believe that is a bad word." ^•'^ j-l^i -^'V "RUSSIAN TROTTKR, TRAINED BY THK HUMAN VOiri:." " Bad words were made for bad things," said Ginger, and she told him what Sir Oliver had said. " It is all true," said Merrylegs sadly, " and I've seen that about the dogs over and over again where I lived first ; but we won't talk about it here. You know that master, and John, and James are always good to us, and talking against men in such a place as this, doesn't seem fair or grateful, and you know there are good masters and good grooms besides ours, though, of course, ours are the best." This wise speech of good little Merrylegs, which we knew was quite true, cooled us all down, especially Sir Oliver, 48 Black Beauty, !l who was dearly fond of his master ; and to turn the subject I said, " Can any one tell me the use of blinkers ? " " No 1 " said Sir Oliver, shortly, " because they are no use." " They are supposed," said Justice in his calm way, " to prevent horses from shying and starting, and getting so fright- ened as to cause accidents " " Then what is the reason they do not put them on riding horses; especially on ladies' hcrses ? " said I. " There is no reason at all," said he, quietly, " except the fashion : they say that a horse would be so frightened to see the wheels of his own cart or carriage coming behind him, that he would be sure to run away, although of course when he is ridden, he sees them all about him if the streets are crowded. I admit they do sometimes come too close to be pleasant, but we don't run away ; we are used to it, and understand it, and if we had never blinkers put on, we should never want them ; we shonld see what was there, and know what was what, and be much less frightened than by only seeing bits of things, that we can't understand." Of course there may be some nervous horses who have been hurt or frightened when they were young, and may be the better for them, but as I never was nervous, I can't judge. " I consider," said Sir Oliver, " that blinkers are dangerous things in the night ; we horses can see much better in the dark than man can, and many an accident would never have happened if horses might have had the full use of their eyes. Some years ago, I remember, there was a hearse with two horses returning one dark night, and just by farmer Sparrow's house, where the pond is close to the road, the wheels went too near the edge, and the hearse was overturned into the water ; bi^lh the horses were drowned, and the driver hardly escaped. Of course after this accident a stout white rail was put up that might be easily seen, but if these horses had not been partly blinded, they would of themselves have kept farther .-/ Talk in the Orchard. 49 from the edge, and no accident would have happened. When our master's carriage was overturned, before you came here, it was said that if the lamp on the left side had not gone out, John would have seen the great hole that the road-makers had left ; and so he might, but if old Colin had not had blinkers on, he would have seen it, lamp or no lamp, for he was far too knowing an old horse to run into danger. As it was, he was very much hurt, the carriage was broken, and how John escaped nobody knew." " I should say," said Ginger, curling her nostril, " that these men, who are so wise, had better give orders, that in future, all foals should be born with their eyes set just in the middle of their foreheads, instead of on the side ; they always think they can improve upon nature and mend what God has made." Things were getting rather sore again, when Merrylegs held up his knowing little face and said, " I'll tell you a secret ; 1 believe John does not approve of blinkers, I heard him talking with master about it one day. The master said, that 'if horses had bee.i used to them, it might be dangerous in some cases to leave them off,' and John said he thought it would be a good thing if all colts were broken in without blinkers, as was the case in some foreign countries ; •■:j let us cheer up, and have a run to the other end of the orchard ; I believe the wind has blown down some apples, and we might just as well eat them as the slugs," Merrylegs could not be resisted, so we broke off our long con- versation, and got up our spirits by munching some very sweet apples which lay scattered on the grass. E f 4r CHAPTER XI. PLAIN SPEAKIN'G. ^rjilrr^. }\E lonj^cr I lived at Birtwick, the more jiroud and h;i]ipy I felt at haviiij; such a place. Our master and mistress were respected and beloved by all who knew them ; they were f^^ood and kind t(i everybody and everythinpf ; not oidy men and women, but horses and donkeys, dog.5 and cats, cattle and birds ; there was no oppressed or ill- used creature that had not a friend in them, and their servants took the same tone. If any of the village children were known to treat any creature cruelly, they soon heard about it from the Hall. The Squire and farmer Grey had worked tofjether, as they said, for more than twenty years, to p^et bearing,' reiii^ on the cart horses done away with, and in our parts you seldom saw them ; but sometimes if mistress mot a heavily-lailen horse, with his head strained up, she would stop the carriaf,'e and j,'et out, and reason with the driver in her sweet serious voice, ami try to show him how foolish and crui;! it was. I don't think any man could withstand our mistress. I wish all ladies were like her. ( Ui master too, used to come down very heavy sometimes; I r Mnembrr he was riilinjj; me towanls ■i-A « Plain Speaking. 51 u i home one morninf;^, when we saw a powerful ninn drivin.e; to- wards us in a Hj^ht pony chaise, with a beautiful little bay pony, with slender legs, and a hij^h-bred sensitive head and face. Just as he came to the Park gates, the little thing turned to- wards them ; the man, without word or warning, wrenched the creature's head round with such a force and suddenness, that he nearly threw it on its haunches ; recovering itself, it was going on when he began to lash it furiously; the pony plunged forward, but the strong heavy hand held the pretty creature back with force almost enough to break its jaw, whilst the whip still cut into him. It was a dreadful sight to me, for I knew what fearful pain it gave that delicate little mouth ; but master gave me the word, and we were up with him in a second. " Sawyer," lie cried in a stern voice, " is that pony made of flesh and blood ? " " Flesh and blood and temper," he said ; " he's too fond of his own will, and that won't suit me." He spoke as if he was in a strong passion ; he was a builder who had often been to the Park on business. " And do you think," said master sternly, " that treatment like this will make him fond of your will ? " " He had no business to make that turn ; his road was straight on ! " said the man roughly. " You have often driven that pony up to my place," said master ; " it only shows the creature's memory and intelligence ; how did he know that you were not going there again ? but that has little to do with it. I must say, Mr. Sawyer, that more unmanly, brutal treatment of a little pony, it was never my painful lot to witness; and by giving way to such passion, you injure your own character as much, n.'} more, than you injure your horse, and remember, we shall all hdve to be judged according to our works, whether they be towards man or towards beast." Master rode me home slowly, and I could tell by his voice how the thing had grieved him. He was just as free to speak f9ti\ . ' ♦ 1 Ik "'SA\\VI;K,' IIK iKlKIl ... 'IS niAl Id.W MAUK (11 l-l.KSlI AM) Ill.OOIlr " Plain Speaking. 53 i to gentlemen of his own rank as to those below him ; for another day, when we were out, we met a Captain Lan^^ley, a friend of our master's ; he was driving a splendid pair of greys in a kind of break. After a little conversation the Captain said,— " What do you think of my new team, Mr. Douglas ? you know, you are the judge of horses in these parts, and I should like your opinion." The master backed me a little, so as to get a good view of them. "They are an uncommonly handsome pair," he said, " and if they are as good as they look, I am sure you need not wish for anything better ; but I see you get hold of that pet scheme of yours for worrying your horses and lessening their power." " What do you mean," said the other, " the bearing reins ? Oh, ah ! I know that's a hobby of yours ; well, the fact is, I like to see my horses hold their heads up." "So do I," said master, "as well as any man, but I don't like to see them held up ; that takes all the shine out of it. Now you are a military man, Langley, and no doubt like to see your regiment look well on parade, ' Heads up,' and all that ; but you would not take much credit for your drill, if all your men had their heads tied to a backboard ! It might not be much harm on parade, except to worry and fatigue them, but how would it be in a bayonet charge against the enemy, when they want the free use of ever} muscle, and all their strength thrown forward ? I would not give much for their chance of victory, and it is just the same with horses; you fret and worry their tempers, and decrease their power ; you will not let them throw their weight against their work, and so they have to do too much with their joints and muscles, an'' of course it wears them up faster. You may depend upon it, horses were intended to have their heads free, as free as men's are ; and if we could act a little more according to common sense, and a good deal less according to fashion, we should find many things work easier; besiiles, you know as 54 Black Beauty. well as I, that if a horse makes a false step, he has much less, chance of recoverir.i^ himself if his head and neck are fastened back. And now,' said the master, laiif,'hinj^, " I have j,Mven ^ny hobby a good trot out, can't you make up your mind to mount him too. Captain ? your example would go a long way." " I believe you are right in theory," said the other, " and that's rather a hard hit about the soldiers; but — well — I'll think about it," and so they parted. I \ I '"THAT WAS A vr.UY KKVK TOfi II,' S\IM MY MASTKK." chapti:k XII. Ij;- A STORMY DAY. NE day lato in the autuinn, my master had a lon^ journey to f^o on business. I was put into the do^-cart, and John went witli his master. I always hked to go in the do/,'-cart, it was so lij,'ht, and the hij.,di wheels ran alonj; so pleasantly. There had been a fj^reat deal of rain, and now the wind was very hif,di, and blew the dry leaves across the road in a shower. W'l' went alonf^ merrily till we came to the toll-bar and the low wooden bridge. The river banks were rather high, and the bridge, instead of rising, went across just level, so that in the middle if the river was full, the water would be nearly up to the woodwork and planks; but as there were good substantial rails on each side, people did not mind it. 'n I 5^> 11 ]>hX(k Ju'dH/V \c mini ;it IIk (i it wiMiliI In A\C ■AU\ \\\c \\\v\ \\;i^ nsiiu ;i l>:i nll\. so it was no inattiM, W'luMi W(> ;;ot to th(> town, of ionise I had a r^o\\i\ bait, bnl as the m.istci's Imsiiu'ss iMi;;a,i;(>d liini a loni; limi", wr did not start lor honu till latliiM" late in the alliMHoon. 11 \V WIIK was tluMi miii'li l\i]L,dirr. and 1 lu-aid t1u> niaslor sav to John, lu' had lu-vcr hcvw out in such a slonu ; and so 1 thon,i;ht, as wo wi'iit alonji; tlu^ skirts ol a wood, whcro tho qriMt liMiulu-s W(ri> sw,i\in,L; about lil\i> twii;s, and th(> nisliiiig sound was ten ihli\ " I wish wr were w»dl out of this wood." said \\\\ inasl(>r. " Yes. sir." said |ohn. "it would he rather awkward if one ol these braiu lu>^ iMine down upon us."" The woicN W(M(> se.neelv out o\ his mouth when there was .\ i;ri\»n. .md a eraek. and a splitting; sound, and l(>aiini;, erashinq down .\nu>ni;st the oIIkm" tn^'s. eame an oak. torn up li\ tlu> i>>ots. .md it lell rii^hl across the ro.id just IxMore us. 1 will iu>\ersa\ 1 w,»s not Irii^htened. lor 1 was. I stopj^ed still, .md 1 belie\i> I ticMiibled ; orcoiirse 1 did not turn round or run .)w,i\- ; I w,\s not bromd't "j^ to that. John jumped out .md was m ,\ moment at mv he.ul. " riiat w.is .1 \iM\ lUMr touch." s.iid nw m.i'^tcr; " what's to be doiu' now ? " Well. sir. we can't diixf o\er tint tre(^ nor yet j^(>t round It ; there will be nothint; tor it. but to ,l;o b.ick to the lour criis-i w,u<. ,md th.it will be ,i i;ood six miles belore we qct rouiui to the woodtMi biid,m> aqaiu ; it will ni.ikc us kite, but the luMse is Iresh." So b.ick we wiMit. aiul round b\- tlu> cross ro;ids : but b\- tlio time wi> uot to the bridge, it w.is mmv iumiIv d.irk. W(> could just see that the w.itiM' w,is o\ ei the niiddli- ol' it : but as that happened sonu-times when the t1i>i'nls were out. ma^^ter did not stop. We were i^oim; .ilonq .\t a t;ood p. ice. but the moiutMit I . / S/()/ II! V l\l\' 57 # •^ i 111V feel loiK Iicl ilic rii-.t |>;iil of til"' l)ii(UM', • Trll sine (licrc w.is soiiictliin;; uioii;;. I (I.ih' not f^o Imu.iKl, .iiid I iikkIi- ;i (Ic, III stop. "(..1 on. r.(;iiit\-." sail! iiiv ma'^tcr, and lie ^avc in(> a IoikIi with tin- wliip. Imt I date not slii'; lie Ka\r nic a sliarp (lit. I ininiiiil. l>nl I dare not ^'o forward. " 'riific's soniclluni; wronK. sir." said jolin, and lie sprang out ol" llic do^'-cart and canic to my head and looked all alunit. lie Iri'.'d to lead nic forward. "Conic on, Px'aiity, what's the inatt«M?" Ol coiiiM- I (diild not tell him, hut I knew very well thai the hridiM- was not safe. just then tlir man at the toll-K:it<' on the otlu'r side ran out of the house, lossiii;.,' .i torch about like one mad. " lloy, hov. ho\-. halloo, sto|) ! " li<- cried. "What's the matter?" shouted my master. " Th(> hridf^c is broken in the midille, and part of it is carried away; if you come<)n you'll be into the ri\er." "Thaidv dod!" said my master. " \'oii I'eaiity ! " said (olm, and took the bridl(> and !;eiitl\- turned me roun(^ lillle(l off after that huioiis blast which tore up th(> tree. It };rew darker and darker, stiller and stiller. I trotted (piietly alouf,', the wliicls hardly makinj; ;i sound on the soft load. I''or .i j^^ood whih; neither master nor John sjjoke, and then master be/^'aii in a serious voice. I could not understand nnuh of what they said, but I loiind they thoiij^dit.if I hail ;.,'one on as the master wanted mi", most likely the briili^'e would have I'iveii way under us, and horse, chaise, master and man would have fallen into tiie rivi-r ; and as the current was llowiiif,' very strouf^ly, and there was no li^ht and no lu'lj) at hand, it was more than likely we should all ha\e been drowned. Masti;r said, (iod had ^iven men reason, by whit h they could lind out thiuf^s for them- selves, but he had ;^Mven animals knowled^'e which did not depend on reason, and which was jniich more prompt and perfect in its way. and by which they had often saved the hvcs of men. John had niaii\' stories to tell of dogs and i Tlir. liKIDC.K IS DKOKKN I.N IIIF. MIDDI.K,' SAID JOHN." A Stormy Day. 59 horses, and the wonderful thin.cfs they had done ; he thou^'ht people did not value their animals half en.;^ :h, nor make friends of them as they ought to do. I a.;i ire he makes friends of them if ever a man did. At last we came to the Park p:^tes, and found the gardener lookinj; out for us. He said that mistress had been in a ilread- ful way ever since dark, fearins^ some accident had happened, and that she had sent James off on Justice, the roan cob, towards the wooden bridpje to make inquiry after us. We saw a light at the hall door and at the upper windows, and as we came up, mistress ran out, saying, "Are you realh' safe, my dear? Oh ! aa ^ been so anxious, fancying all sorts of things. Have yon had accident ? " "No, my dear; :'l.- if your IMack Beauty had not lieen wiser than we were, ^ e should all have been carried down the river at the wooden br^uge.'' I heard no more, as they went into the house, ar. Tol .i took me to the stable. Oh, what a good supper he gave me that night, a good bran mash and some crushed beans with my oats, and such a thick bed ol straw ! anc I was glad of it, for I was tired. '\\ TUrH*H4U>v«« ■ ■■w CHAPTER XIII THE DliVIL S TRADE MARK. NE day when John and I had been out on some business of our master's, and were returning^ gently on a lonj,' straif^ht road, at some distance we saw a boy trying to leap a pony over a gate ; the pony would not take the leap, and the boy cut him with the whip, but he only turned off on one side. He whipped him again, but the pony turned off on the other side. Then the boy got off and gave him a hard thrashing, and knocked him about the head; then he got up again and tried to make him leap the gate, kicking him all the time shamefully, but still the pony refused. When we were nearly at the spot, the pony put down his head and threw up his heels and sent the boy neatly over into a broad quickset hedge, and with the rein dangling from his head he set off home at a full gallop. John laughed out quite loud : " Served him right," he said. " Oh ! oh ! oh ! " cried the boy as he struggled about amongst the thorns ; " I say, come and help me out." " Thank ye," said John, " I think you are quite in the right place, and maybe a little scratching will teach you not to leap a pony over a gate that is too high for him," and so with that John rode off. " It may be," said he to himself, " that j'oung fellow is a liar as well as a cruel one ; we'll just go home by farmer Bushby's, Beauty, and then if anybody wants to know, you and I can tell 'em, ye see" ; so we turned I The Dci'U\ Trade Mark. 61 ch to the ri,!;,'ht, and soon came up to the stack yaivl, and within sif,'hi of the house. The farmer was hurrying out into the road, and his wife was standing at the gate, looking very frightened. "■ Have you seen my boy? '' said Mr. Bushby, as we came up ; " he v.-ent out an hour ago on my black pony, and the creature is just come back without a rider." " I should think, sir," said John, " he had better be without a rider, unless be can be ridden properly." " What do \ou mean ? " said the farmer. " Well, sir. I saw your son whipping, and kicking, and knocking that good little pony about shamefully, because he would not leap a gate that was too high for him. The pony behaved well, sir, and sl^owed no vice ; but at last he just threw up his heels, and tipped the young gentleman into the thorn hedgr , he wanted me to help him out ; but I hope you will excuse me, sir, I did not feel inclined to do so. There's no bones broken, sir, he'll only get a few scratches. I love horses, and it roiles me to see them badly used ; it is a bad plan to aggravate an animal till he uses his heels ; the first time is not always the last." During this time the mother began to cry, " Oh ! my poor Bill, I must go and meet him, he must be hurt." " You had better go into the house, wife," said the farmer : " Bill wants a lesson about this, and I must see that he gets it ; this is not the first time nor the second that he has ill- used that pony, and I shall stop it. I am much obliged to you, Manly. Good evening." So we went, John chuckling all the way home ; then he told James about it, who laughed and said, " Serve him right. I knew that boy ul school ; he took great airs on himself because he was a farmer's son ; he used to swagger about and bully the little boys ; of course we elder ones would not have any of that nonsense, and let him know that in the school and the playground, farmers' sons and labourers' sons were all alike. I well remember one day, just before afternoon school, 1''^ 62 Black Beau y I found liiin at tlio l;\r,i:t> window ratrhiii,!,' flies and pnllinjj off tlu'ir win.i^s. Hi' did not slh> nic, and I ^mao liiin a box on the ears that laid him sptawlinc: on the floor. Well, an,!Li;iv as I was, I was almost fri|L:;htened. he roared and bellowed in surh a stvle. The boys rushed in from the phwjjtround, and the master ran in from the road to sec who was beintr nmrtlereci. Of course I said fair and sipiare at (Mice what I had done, and win ; then I showed the master the poor flies, some crushed and some erawlinj,' about helpless, and I showed him the winj:i;s on the window sill. I never saw Imui so anf^ry before; but as Bill >ill was still howlnj.' and whiiiinm the beginning, and a tormenter to the end. On the other hand, where we saw people who loved their neighbours, and were kind to man and beast, we might know that was God's mark, for ' God is Love.' " " Your master never taught you a truer thing," said John ; *' there is no religion without love, and people may talk as much as they like about their religion, but if it does not teach them to be good and kind to man and beast, it is all a sham — all a sham, James, and it won't stand when things come to be turned inside out and put down for what they arc."' \ \ 1 CH M'TICK XIV. JAMIIS m)\VAKn. NIC inorninf,', early in Dt'cciiilxr, Jolin had just led nie intci my box after my daily exercise, and was strajipinj^' my cloth on, and James was cominfj in from the corn chamber with some oats, when the master came into the stable ; he looked rather si'riotis, and held an open letter in his hand, John fastened the door of my box, touched his cap, and waited for orders. "Good morninj;, John." said the master; " I want to know if you have any complaint to make of James." " Complaint, sir ? No, sir." "Is he industrious at his work and respectful to you ? " " Yes, sir, always." " You never find he slights his work when your back is turned ? " " Never, sir." " That's well ; but I n.ust put another question : have you no reason to suspect when he f^oes out with the horses to exercise them, or to take a message, that he stops about talking to his ac(piaintan";es, or gv:)es into houses where he has no business, leaving the horses outside ? " " No, sir, certainly not, and if anybody has been sayi:;g that about James, I don't believe it, anil I don't mean to believe it unless I have it fairly proved bcforn witnesses ; it's not for nie to say who has been tryirig to take aw '.y James' character ; but I will say this, sir, that a steadier, ph asanter, honestcr, l| ^^1 64 Black L 'ica ttty f I smarter younp: fellow I never had in this stable. I can trust his word and I can trust his work ; he is -cntle and clever with the horses, and I would rather have them in char-e with him than with half the younj,' fellows I know of in laced hats and liveries ; and whoever wants a character of James Howard " said John, with a decided jerk of his head, " let them come t . John Manly." The master stood all this time ;-rave and attentive ; but as John finished his speech, a broad smile spread over his face, and looking kindly across at Jan:co, who, all this time hacl stood still at the door, he said, "James, my lad, set down the oats and come here; I am very i^dad to find that John's opinion o{ 3(,ur character agrees so exactly with my own. John is a cautious man," he said, with a droll smile, "and it is not always easy to get his opinion about people, so I tlionght if 1 beat the bush on this side the birds would % out, and 1 should learn what I wanted to know quickly; so now we will come to business. I have a letter from 'my brother-in-law, Sir Clifibrd Williams, of Clifford Hall. He wants me to iind him a trusl^vorthy young groom, about twenty or twenty-one, who kn,>ws his l)nsincss. His old coachman, who has lived with him thirty years, is getting feeble, and he wants a man to w< - k with him and get into his ways, who would be able, wlu n the old man was pen- sioned o{i, to step into his i,lace„ He wnul.i have eighteen shillings a week at first, a stable suit, a driving suit, a bed- room over tlie coach-house, an.i a bnv nndrrliim Sir Clifford IS a good master, and if you could gvt th. place, it wouhl be a good start f<,r you. I y are hi.i^di inettlei!, it makes them vicious or dauj^ertms ; their teuipers are mostly made when (lu'y are 'M: k'\ 4'^m \ youii}^;. Hless 3-011 ! they are hke eliil- dreii. Ir;iii) 'em \\p ill (he way tht\v sht>uld f;o, as the f;ood hook sa\s, and wlien (!iey are old (hey will not depart honi it, if they havea eh. nice, 111'" T5m* / ^ ';'■•'} -•■?! ;ii;H :;'' that is." ■'! i! •' .1 lil.e to hear '-; ;' y.'i) (all." :-.;iid Jam n>. " lh:it'sth(> way we lay it dmvn at home, at our master s." " Who is yonv masdM', yount; ) man ? if it be a propiM" (|ues{ion. I should jud^^e lu> is a {^ood one, from what I see." " lie is S(inire Gordon, of \V\[{. wiek Tark, (he other side the Bo.ncon Hills," said j.iines. " Ah I si\ so. I have luMrd (ell of him ; (ine judge of horses, ain't ho ? the he>( ruler m (he eoiiiily ? " bWUvS AND Till'- 01 l> M\\ III f TIIIC Sl-AHlrt IvHiKlllKK." I --T m yy^c- oidosficr. 69 sm< (> <|„. ,„„„■ yoMPfr nuislcr was Ie through. I listened and heard a soft rushing sort of noia and a Iav crackling and snapping. I did not know what it wa , but there was something in the sound so strange, that The Fire. 71 it made me tre. ible all over. The other horses were now all awake ; some were pulling at their halters, others were stamp- ing. At last I heard steps outside, and the ostler who had put up the traveller's horse, burst into the stable with a lantern, and began to untie the horses, and try to lead them out ; but he seemed in such a hurry, and so frightened himself that he frightened me still more. The first horse would not go with hitn ; he tried the second and third, they too would not stir. He came to me next and tried to drag me out of the stall by force, of course that was no use. He tried us all by turns and then le^t the stable. No doubt we were very foolish, but danger seemed to be all round, and there was nobody we knew to trust in, and all was strange and uncertain. The fresh air that had come in through the open door made it easier to breathe, but the rushing sound overhead grew louder, and as I looked upward, through the bars of my empty rack, I saw a red light flickering on the wall. Then I heard a cry of " Fire " outside, and the old ostler quietly and quickly came in ; he got one horse out, and went to another, but the flames were playing round the trap door, and the roaring overhead wa^^ dreadful. The next thing I heard was James's voice, quiet and cheery, as it always was. " Come, my beauties, it is time for us to be off, so wake up and come along," I stood nearest the door, so he came to me first, patting me as he came in. " Comie, Beauty, on with your bridle, my boy, we'll soon be out of this smother." It was on in no time ; then he took the scarf off his neck, and tied it lightly over my eyes, and patting and coaxing he led me out of the stable. Safe in the yard, he slippeil the scarf off my eyes, and shouted, " Here somebody ! take this horse while I go liack for the other." A tall broad man stepped forward and took me, and James darted back into the stable. I set up a shrill whinny as I saw him go. Ginger told me afterwards, that winiiny was tl^e best TJie Fire. n lis THK 11 RE ICNniNE. thin^ I could have done for her, for had she not heard mc out- side, she would never have had courage to come out. There was much confusion in the yard ; the horses being got out of other stables, and the carriages and gigs being pulled out of houses and sheds, lest the llames should spread further. On the other side the yard, windows were thrown up, and people were shouting all sorts of things ; but I kept my eye fixed on the stable door, where the smoke poured out thicker than ever, and I could see flashes of red light ; presently 1 heard above all the stir and din a loud clear voice, which I knew was master's — " James Howard ! James Howard ! are you there ? " There was no answer, but I heard a crash of something falling in the 74 Black Beauty. stable, and the next moment I gave a loud joyful neigh, for I saw James coming through the smoke, leading Ginger with him ; she was coughing violently and he was not able to speak. " My brave lad ! " said master, laying his hand on his shoulder, " are you hurt ? " James shook his head, for he could not yet speak. " Aye," said the big man who held me ; " he is a brave lad, and no mistake." " And now," said master, "when you have got your breath, James, we'll get out of this place as quickly as we can, ' and we were moving towards the entry when from the Market Place there came a sound of galloping feet and loud rumbling wheels. " 'Tis the fire engine ! the fire engine ! " shouted two or three voices, " stand back, make way ! " and clattering and thundering over the stones, two horses dashed into the yard with the heavy engine behind them. The firemen leaped to the ground ; there was no need to ask where the fire was — it was torching up in a great blaze from the roof. We got out as fast as we could into the broad quiet Market Place ; the stars were shining, and except the noise behind us, all was still. Master led the way to a large Hotel on the other side, and as soon as the ostler came, he said, " James, I must now hasten to your mistress ; I trust the horses entirely to you, order whatever you think is needed," and with that he was gone. The master did not run, but I never saw mortal man walk so fast as he did that night. There was a dreadful sound before we got into our stalls ; the shrieks of those poor horses that were left burning to death in the stable— it was very terrible ! and made both Ginger and me feel very bad. We, however, were taken in and well done by. The next morning the master came to see how we were and to speak to James. I did not hear much, for the ostler was rubbing me down, but I could see that James looked very I 1 The Fire, 75 happy, and I thou^^^ht the master was proud of him. Our mistress had been so much alarmed in the night, that the journey was put off till the afternoon, so James had the morn- ing on hand, and went first to the inn to see about our harness and the carriage, and then to hear more about the fire. When he came back, we heard him tell the ostler about it. At first no one could guess how the fire had been caused, but at last a man said he saw Dick Towler go into the stable with a pipe in his mouth, and when he came out he had not one, and went to the tap for another. Then the under ostler said he had asked Dick to go up the ladder to put down some hay, but told him to lay down his pipe first. Dick denied taking the pipe with him, but no one believed him. I remembered our John Manly's rule, never to allow a pipe in the stable, and thought it ought to be the rule everywhere. James said the roof and floor had all fallen in, and that only the black walls were standing ; the two poor horses that could not be got out were buried under the burnt rafters and tiles '-it I 1 <*>, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I l^illB |2.5 ■^ Uii 122 us 140 1^ 1-25 1.4 1.6 < 6" ► <^ V] / VJ # Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WIBSTIR, N.Y. 14510 (716) 873-4903 ^> hJ^ ;V <^ ^ *» ^ * ^ V*. o'^ ^..^' '^ ■■-■■■■ '■ * . ■■ ■ • ■-' ■': ** ...u^.^.^i '■',.,. . ^ I , , ■ . , , CHAPTER XVII. JOHN MANLY S TALK. HI'2 rest of our journey \v;is very easy, and a little after sunset we reached the house of my master's friend. We were taken into a clean snu^ stable ; there was a kind coachman, who made us very comfortable, and who seemed to think a good deal of James when he heard about the tire. " There is one thing quite clear, young man," he said, " your horses know who they can trust ; it is one of the hardest things in the world to get horses out of a stable when there is either tire or Hood. I don't know why they won't come out, but they won't — not one in twenty." We stopped two or three days at this place and then riturned home. All went well on the journey; we were glad to be in oi?r own stable again, and John was equally glad to see us. Before he and James left us for the night, James said, " I wonder who is coming in my place." " Little Joe Green at the Lodge," said John. " Little Joe Green ! why, he's a child ! " " He is fourteen and a half," raid John. •' But he is such a little chap ! " " Yes, he is small, but he is quick, and willing, and kind- hearted too, and then he wishes \ery much to come, and his John Maniys Talk, 77 father would like it ; .uid I know the mrx'^ter would like to give him the chance. He said, if I thoii^'ht he would not do, he would look out for a bif,';,n!r boy ; but I said I was quite agreeable to try him for six weeks." " Six weeks ! " said James, " why, it will De six months before he can be of much use ! it will make yt)u a deal of work, John." " Well," said John with a laugh, " work and I are very good friends ; I never was afraid of work yet." "You are a very good man," said James. " I wish I may ever be like you." " I don't often speak of myself," said John, " but as you are going away from us out into the world, to shift for yourself, I'll just tell you how I look on these things. I was just as old as Joseph when my fatlur and mother died of the fever, within ten days of each other, and left me aiul my crippled sister Nelly alone in the world, without i^. relation that we could look to for help. I was a farmer's boy, not earning enough to keep myself, much less both of us, and she must have gone to the workhouse, but for our mistress (Nelly calls her, her angel, and she has good right to do so). She went and hired a room for her with old widow Mallet, and she gave her knitting and needlework, when she was able to do it ; and when she was ill, she sent her dinners and many nice com- fortable things, and was like a mother to her. Then the master, he took me into the stable under old Norman, the coachman that was then. I had my food at the house, and my bed in the loft, and a suit of clothes and three shillings a week, so that I could help Nelly. Then there was Norman ; he might have turned round and said, at his age he could not be troubled with a raw boy from the plough-tail, but he was like a father to me, and took no end of pains with mo. When the old man died some years alter, I stepped into his place, and now of course I have top wages, and can lay by for a rainy day or a sunny day as it may happen, and Nelly is as happy as a bird. So you see, James, I am 3 «: 7« lilack Beauty. not the iiuiM tluit shoiiKl turn up his noso at a little hoy, and vex a f^ooil, kind master. No! no! I shall miss sow very much, James, hut we shall pull through, aii«l thi>re's nothinj,' like doinj,' a kindness when 'tis put in your way, and I am },'lad I e an i\o it." "Then." Siiid Jamrs, "you don't hold with that saying, ' Ever\l)odv look alter himself, and take care of nuinher one . ■> • " No, indei'd," said John, "where should I and Nelly have been, if master and mistress ami old Norman had only taken care of number one ? Why — she in the workhouse and I hoeinj^ turnips ! Where would Hlack Beauty and Ciin,t,'er have been if you had only thou,t,dit of mnnber one ? — why, roasted to diMth ! No, Jim, no! that is a sellish, heathenish sayinjj;, whoever uses it, and any man who thinks he has nothinj^ to do but take care of numln-r one, why, it's a pity but what he had been tlrowneil like a puj^py or a kitten, before he j^ot his eyes open, that's what I think," saiil John, with a very decided jerk of his heavl. James lauj;hed at this ; but there was a thickness in his voice when he said, " You have been my best friend except my niother ; I hope you won't forf;et me ? " " No, lad, no! " said John. " .\ntl if ever I can do you a good turn, I hope you won't for^'et me ? " The next day Joe came to the stables to learn all he could before James left. He learned to sweep the stable, to bring in the new straw ami hay ; he began to clean the harness, and helped to wash the carriage. As he was quite too short to do anything in the way of grooming Ginger and me, James taught him upon Merrylegs, for he was to have full charge of him ; under John. He was a nice little bright fellow, and always came whistling to his work. Merrylegs was a good tleal put out, at being " mauled about," as he said, " by a boy who knew nothing ; " but towards the end of the secoml week, he told me conlidentially that he thought the boy would turn out well. Joliii Manly s Talk. 79 At :a„ the ,1a,. „„,<■ whon Jame,, ha.l ,„ l.av,. „s ; cho.rful asj,. Uway, was, he Inokc.l ,,„i,. ,iow„.h,.ar,o,l ,ha. n,or„;„. You sec, 1,0 sa„i t„ John, •• I a„, ,,,„,; „ ,, ^ jtnd „,.,rcss, and .Hon the h„rsos, a„,i ,„y „,,, y^„i^l the new p ace there will not l,e a so„l that . shall Know If were not that 1 shall .-et a hi.her place, a„,l be ,,!,l. o le my mother better, r ,l.,n't think I sl,„„ld have „,ade up m "'"I'l to ,t ; ,t IS a real pinch, John." ^ ^ " Aye, J.a.nes, la.l, so i, is, h,„ I shonW not think n,„rh of you, tfyou could leave your hon.e for the Hrst ti,n a „; fce .t,. cheer up. y„„'ll n.ake friends there, and ifyou ; t o^ well-as I a,n sure , will, it will he a line thi^ for your mother, and she will he proud enough that you have «. . „ such a f^oocJ place as tluit." ^ So John cheered him „p, but every one was sorry to lose James; as for Merryle-^s. he pine,! after hin. for sevvnU cKv and went cpnte off his appetite. So John took him ou e tr 1 nornmgs w.th a leadin,^ rein, when he exercised me and trotfn, and .allopin, .,y my side. ,ot up the liU e Te lo*:' spirits af,^am, and he was soon all ri-ht. Joe's father would often come in and ^ive a little holn x. understood the work, and Joe took a ^r^t d ' o t',;: o^ learn, and John was quite encouraged about hi.n. I 11 \ri 1 K" will, i^)N.. 1 «m; nil- I'lM 1 i>iv. \1 ni;lit. .\ l.w li.w ■ ilt.'i I.nn«'% li,\,l 1, (i. 1 \\.\,\ i\(1<-n m\ li.w .in. I \\.\>^ l\m!:.l.'\\n in tn\ -ti.iw l.\^t a^-Ki'i^. wliiMi 1 \\;i-; sii.l.l.nh iiwi^Uc l'\ (Ii.- '■t.iMr brll invMn:; \> i\ l.'H.l. 1 liciiJ (he il>>ni ot ].'lin'- h.Mi .(' .'pen. ;ni>l hi- (ret lunniivi; up (.Mhr 11. (11. 1 Ic w .\'- b.ii k ;i';.iin in no linic : hi- v^r-- •" nnl-H'lvc.l (hr st.iMr .l.nii. .\\\>\ cmu" in. cilliii!; >Mi(, " \\ .ikt' lip. ImmiiIv. \i'ii inn^t r.o will niMx . if r\ (M \iMi .ii.l . " an.i .ilnio'^l hiM.'ir 1 » mil.l (hinlv, lu~ h.i.l f;>M thr ^.iii.ilr on in\ b.\> k .in. I thr biiilK' on in\ hiM.l ; ho ]u^\ I, in ioun>l toi hi- ro, ii. .in. I lh(Mi lo.^k nu- al .i jju'iik tv.^t up t.i th«' n.\ll tU^or. 1 lu' S.iuiii' stood then' witli a Luu]'' in hi-- h.m.l. " N.n\ l.-hn." hi^ -^.ii.l " ri.l.- loi \oni lilt-, thai is, ior yom >i\i-'t i.'ss's hti' : thiMi^ is n.^t ,i uiiMiu-iit t.* l.i-.i- ; !;i\r this note- to P.^ t.M \\ hit*' ; ciNi' \.Mn h.Ms<> a ii'--t at llu- inn. and he b,\ik a^.un ,\s soon ,1-- \ on van." j.^hn saul. " ^ I -^. sir.'" ,\n.i wa-^ on iiu hatk in a tninnti". Thi' U.u.ii nrv w h.'' liNt^l .\t thi' l.^ii;*' ha.i h<-,u.l the In-ll iini:, ;in.l w.^s iv,i>i\ with tho j;,Ui' open, and awav we wi-iit thioM!;h tho Talk. ;uiti thtonj;h thr Mll.i;;t-. and down the lull till wc oanio t<> the toll-c.^to. John twUi-d \ riy l(>nd and thninpcd upon tho .l.^M' : tho m.in was si'ion out and tluni; i>pi-ii tht- ,i:ato. "N."\\." said lohn, " ^y.^ \'^\\ ]\ccy tlv." i:,ito open lor tho docliM ; hcMo's tlu' nionc\," and otTwi- went aj;ain. t (to/t/i^' /,'/■ I In' /hnfor 8i livn '-iilr ; |iiln) ..ihl |.i mi'. "Now, I>r;iiilv. •'" \'"ii In I.' iiMcl mi I (lid ; I \v,m(r(| dm \vIiI|) ll'H spill, iiiiil ("i I w . > mil" ; I /;.llli«|)r.| ;is 1,1.1 ;|.; I nillM I. IS' IHV l<"<'l t" til"' |;i<'l|lli|; I «li>n( Itclit'vc (li;i( II IV "III >'i.mill.tllin who w<'ii (In- i.ii r ill NfW- iii.ii kcl ( miM liivr );ii|ii' l.r^lrr. WliiMi wi; ( ,iiiii' In tin- Im iil;;i', [ollll |il|llri| nil' lip ,1 lldic ;l!lii|;Ii a villa(M'. Ilicn lliri>ii(;li a ilaik wodil. thru iipliill, tlii'ii (liiwiiliill, till alltr an v\y}\\ iiiiirs' inn wi- tanir to (Ik* town, tlirnii^jli (In- slici-ts ;ini| inln llic M iikif riacr. It was nil ipiilc still r\i r|>l t lir rliittt-r nl liivli'toii till' stones — rvrrvlxtily was aslirp. 'I"ln« clinii li rim k .Irnik tlinv as wr ilii'w lip at Dnilnr Wliitr's (Imii-. |ii|in ran;; tin- Im'II Iwiic. aiul tlicn kniicknl at tin- iI'hh likr tlininlir. A windiiwwas tlimwn up, and I )i)i li»i W'liiti', in hi; iii);hl< ,ip, put his hrad out and said, " What do yoii want ?" "Mrs. ( iiirdon is very ill, sir ; niasfcr wants ymi to !;i> at mik r, \\v thinks she will die if ynii tannni fMt thcic. licit; i. .i iiolc." Wait, li(> saiil I will cnmc III' shut till" window and was sonn .it thr dmtr. " The wnist of it is," he said, " that my horse ha . Iteeii out all day and is (piite done up; iiiv son has just heen miiI (or, .md III' has taken the other. Wli.it is to he < lone ? Can I have your horse ? " " He has come at a },mIIo|) nearly all the way, sir, and F was to ^ive him a rest here ; liiit I think my master would not l>e af;ainst it if yon think lit, sir." " All riKlit." he said. " I will soon he ready." John stood by mi- and stroked my net k, I was very hot. The tloeloi t anie out with his riding; whip. ''\u\\ need not take that , sir," said )o|in. " I'.lat k I'.eanly will f,'o till he dro|>s: take laie of him, sir, i( joii tan; I should not like ait\' liaiiii In i miii' to liim." "NOW, JOHN, KIDIi FOK \OUK LIKli ' - S' Gi>i//x for iJii' Potfor, 83 "No! no! |<.lni." -.11:1 tlir Doctor, "I liopc not," and in a tiiiniitr \vc li;i(l Kit jolni l;ii lulnnd. I will not tfll aWout oiii \\,i\' l>a(l< : tli'' |)o(tor \va<; a hcavitT man than |olin, and not >o j^-ood ;i ridi r ; liowrvcr, I did niy vcrv Ifst. Tlir man at tlu; toll-^Mt«' liad it open. Wlicn we came to the Inll. tlir Doctor drew nic ii|». "Now, my K'ood Icllow." lie said. " take sonic lucatli." I was f^lad 111 did, lor I was nearly -pent, but tliat bit atliiiij,' helped uw " nn AIR WAS iKosiY, I UK MOON WAS iiKnan." on, and soon wc were in tlu; Park, joe was at the lodp^c fjate, my master was at the Hall door, for he had heard us cominj,'. He spoke not a word ; the doctor went into the house with him, and Joe led me to the stable. I was ^lad to fut on/y if,'norance ? Don't you know that it is the worst thin;,' in the world, next to wickedness ? — and which does tln' mischief heaven only knows. If people can say, 'Oh ! I did not know, I did not mean any harm,' they think it is all ri;,dit. I suppose Martha Mulwash did not mean to kill that baby, when she dosed it with Dalby and sootliin<,' syrups ; but she did kill it, and was tried for manslau^^'hter," " And serve her rij^ht, too," said Tom. " A woman should not undertake to nurse a tender little child without knowing what is good and what is bad for it." "Bill Starkey," continued John, "did not mean to frighten his brother into lits, when he dressed up like a ghost, and ran after him in the moonlight ; but he did ; and that bright, hand- some little fellow, that might have bei-n the priile of any mother's heart, is just no better than an itiiot, and never will be, if he live to be eighty years old. You were a good deal cut up yourself, Torn, two weeks ago when those young ladies left your hothouse door open, with a frosty east wind blowing right in ; you said it kil'ed a good many of your plants." 88 Black Beauty. I **A p:ood many!" said Tom, "there was not one of the tender cuttings that was not nipped off; I shall have to strike all over again, and the worst ot it is, that I don't know where to go to get fresh on-js. I was nearly mad when I came in and Sdw what was done." " And ye<"," said John. '* I am sure the young ladies did not mean it ; it was only ignorance ! " I heard no more of this conversation, for the medicine did well and sent me to sleep, a id in the morning I felt much better : but ^ often thought of John's words when I came to know more of the world. I I k 'I \ CHAPTER XX. JOE GREEN. Mi T*^ OE GREEN went on very well ; he learned quickly, and was so attentive and careful, that John began to trust him in many thinj^s ; but, as I have said, he was small of his age, and "t was seldom that he was allowed to exercise either Ginger or me ; but it so happened one morning that John wms out with "Justice," in the luggage cart, and the master wanted a note to be taken imme- diately to a gentleman's house, about three miles distant, and sent his orders for Joe te saddle me and take it ; adding the caution that he was to ride steadily. The note was delivered, and we were quietly returning till we came to the brickheld. Here we saw a cart heavily laden with bricks ; the wheels had stuck fast in the stiff mud of some deep ruts ; and the carter was shouting and flogging the two horses unmercifully. Joe pulled up. It was a sad sight. There were the two horses straining and struggling with all their might to drag the cart out, but they could not move it ; the sweat streamed from their legs and flanks, their sides heaved, and every muscle was strained ; whilst the man, fiercely pulling at the head of the fore-horse, swore and lashed most brutally. "Hold hard," said Joe, " don't go on flogging the horses 1 m^^aimmm.mmmi % ■ i I ! 1 ■* r >' ( 'TUKRH :.q,^ F-.„o\v iio,;.;iN,; nvo 110RSK5 S TO DFAT}! Joe Green. 91 -i^^ » like that ; the wheels are so stuck that they Cc)nnot move tlie cart." The man took no heed, but went on lashinj;,". " Stop ! pray stop," said Joe ; " I'll help you to lighten the cart, the-/ can't move it now." " Mind y >ur own business, you impudent youn.i; rascal, and I'll mind mine.'' The man was in a towering passion, and the worse for drink, and laid on the whip again. Joe ttu'ned my head, and the next moment we were going at a round gallop towards the house of the master brickmaker. I cannot say if John would have approved of our pace, but Joe and I were both of one mind, and so angry, that we could not have gone slower. The house stood by the roadside. Joe knocked at the door and shouted, " Hulloa ! is Mr. Clay at home ? " The door was opened, and Mr. Clay himself came out. "Hulloa! young man! you seem in a hurry ; any orders from the Squire this morning ? " " No, Mr. Clay, but there's a fellow in your brickyard flogging two horses to death. I told him to stop, and he wouldn't ; I said f'd help him to lighten the cart, and he v/ouldn't ; so I have come to tell you; pray, sir, go." Joe's voice shook with excitement. "Thank ye, my lad," said the m;.n, running in for his hat ; then pausing for a moment — " Will you give evidence of what you saw if I should bring the fellow up before a magistrate ? " " That I will," said Joe, " and glad too." The man was gone, and we were on our way home at a smart trot. " Why, what's the matter with you, Joe ? you look angry all over," said John, as the boy flung himself from the saddle. " I am angry all over, I can tell you," said the boy, and then in hurried, excited words he told all that had happened. Joe was usually such a quiet, gentle little fellow that it was wonderful to see him so roused. " Right, Joe I you ilid right, my boy, whether the fellow gets a summons or not. Many folks would have ridden by and said 'twas not their business to intiifere. Now I say, that PI 92 Black Beauty. with cruelty and oppression it is everybody's business to inter- fore wlien they see it ; you did right, my boy." Joe was quite cahn by this time, and proud that John approved of him, and he cleaned out my feet, and rubbed me down with a firmer hand than usual. They were just going home to dinner when the footman came down to the stable to say that Joe was wanted directly in master's private room ; there was a man brought up for ill- using horses, and Joe's evidence was wanted. The boy flushed up to his forehead, and his eyes sparkled. "They shall have it," said ho. " Put yourself a bit straight," said John. Joe gave a pull at his necktie and a twitch at his jacket, and was off in a moment. Our master being one of the county magistrates, cases were often brought to him to settle, or say what should be done. In the stable we heard no more for some time, as it was the men's dinner hour, but when Joe came next into the stable I saw he was in high spirits ; he gave me a good-natured slap and said, " We won't see such things done, will we, old fellow ? " We heard afterwards that he had given his evidence so clearly, and the horses were in such an exhausted state, bearing marks of such brutal usage, that the carter was committed to take his trial, and might possibly be sentenced to two or three months in prison. It was wonderful what a change had come over Joe. John laughed, and said he had grown an inch taller in that week, and I believe he had. He was just as kind and gentle as before, but there was more purpose and determination in all that he did — as if he had jumped at once from a boy into a man. 'THK CRF.AKINC UP. CHAPTER XXI. 4. ■ 'I i TJIE PARTING. HAD now lived in this happy place three years, \ it sad chanf^es were about to come over us. \/e heard from time to time that our mistress was ill. The doctor was often at the house, and the master looked grave and anxious. Then we heard that she must leave her home at once, and go to a warm country for two or three years. The news fell upon the household like the tolling of a death-bell. Everybody was sorry ; but the master began directly to make arrangements for breaking up his establishment and leaving England. We used to hear it talked about in our stable ; indeed, nothing else was talked about. '.^S&SS • ^iitSs^a -. 94 Black Beauty. John went about his work silent and sad, and Joe scarcely whistled. There was a great deal of coming and going ; Ginger and I had full work. The first of the party who went were Miss Jessie and Flora llli: lIKbT or THK party who went WKKE miss JESSIE AND FLORA. with their governess. They came to bid us good-bye. They hugged poor Merrylegs like an old friend, and so indeed he was. Then we heard what had been arranged for us. Master had sold Ginger and me to his old friend, the Earl of W , for he thought we should have a good place there. Merry- The Parting. 95 lej^s he had pivcn to the Vicar, wlio was wantinj^ a pony for Mrs. Bloinelield, but it was on the condition that he should never be sold, and when he was past work that he should be shot and buried. Joe was enga,!,fed to take care of him, and to help in thr house, so I thought that Merrylegs was well off, John had the offer of several good places, but he said he should wait a little and look round. % Tiirv CAMF. TO Bin t^s noon-nvE. The evening before they left, the master came into the stable to give some directions, and to give his horses the last pat. He seemed very low-spirited ; I knew that by his voice. I believe we horses can tell more by the voice than many men can. " Have you decided what to do, John ? " he said. " I find you have not accepted cither of those offers." 96 Black Beauty. " No, sir, I have made up my mind that if I could get a situation with some first-rate colt-breaker and horse-trainer, it would be the right thing for me. Many young animals are frightened and spoiled by wrong treatment which need not be, if the right man took them in hand. I always get on well with horses, and if I could help some of them to a fair start, I should feel as if I was doing some good. What do you think of it, sir ? " " I don't know a man anywhere," said master, " that I should think so suitable for it as yourself. You understand "'GOD BLESS YOO, JOHN,' SHK SAID." horses, and somehow they understand you, and in time you might set up for yourself; I think you could not do better. If in any way I can help you, write to me ; I shall speak to my agent in London, and leave your character with him." Master gave John the name and address ; and then he thanked him for his long and faithful service ; but that was too much for John. " Pray don't, sir, I can't bear it ; you and my dear mistress have done so much for me that I could never repay it ; but we shall never forget you, sir, and please God we may some day see mistress back again The Parting. 97 tl like herself; we must keep up hope, sir." Master gave John his hand, but he did not speak, and they both left the stable. The last sad day had come ; the footman and the heavy lu^'fjage had gone off the day before, and there were only master and mistress and her maid. Ginger and I brought the carriage up to the Hall door for the last time. The servants brought out cushions and rugs and many other things, and when all were arranged, master came down the steps, carrying the » .istress, in his arms (I was on the side next the house, and could see all that went on) ; he placed her carefully in the carriage, while the house servants stood round crying. "Good-bye, again," he said, "we shall not forget any of you ;" and he got in. " Drive on, John." Joe jumped up, and we trotted slowly through the Park, and through the village, where the people were standing at their doors to have a last look and to say, " God bless them." When we reached the railway station, I think mistress walked from the carriage to the waiting-room. I heard her say in her own sweet voice, " Good-bye, John, God bless you." I felt the rein twitch, but John made no answer; perhaps he could not speak. As soon as Joe had taken the things out of the carriage, John called him to stand by the horses, while he went on <-he platform. Poor Joe ! he stood close up to our heads to hide his tears. Very soon the train came puffing up into the station ; then two or ^hree minutes, and the doors were slammed to; the guard whistled and the train glided away, leaving behind it only clouds of white smoke, and some very heavy hearts. When it was quite out of sight, John came back — "We shall never see her again," he said; "never." He took the reins, mounted the box, and with Joe drove slowly home ; but it was not our home now. H CHAPTER XXII. EAKLSHALl.. ^.r:" HE next morninp; after breakfast, Joe put Merry- lep;s into the niistross's low chaise to take him totheVicarage ; hecanie first and said good-bye to us, and Merrylegs ^ / neighed to us from the yard. Then John put the saddle on " F-AXI.SHAt.I,." Ginger and the leading-rein on nie, and rode us across the country about fifteen miles to Earlshall Park, where the Earl of W lived. There was a very fine house, and a great deal of stabling; we went into the yard through a stone gateway, and John asked for Mr. York. It was some time before he came. He was a fine-looking, middle-aged man, and his voice said at once that he expected to be obeyed. He was luirlshall. 99 veiy friendly and polite to John, and ;ifter giving us a slight look, he calli'd a groom to take us to our boxes, and invited John to take some refreshment. We were taken to a light airy stable, and placed in boxes adjoining each other, where we were rubh(>d down and fed. In about half an hour John and Mr. York, who was to be our new coachman, came in to see us. " Now, Mr. Manly," he said, after carefully looking at us both, " I can see no fault in these horses, but we all know that horses have their peculiarities as well as mi..., and that sometimes they need different treatment ; I should like to know if there is anything particular in either of these, that you would like to mention." "Well," said John, " I don't believe there is a better pair of horses in the country, and right grieved I am to part with them, but they are not alike. The black one is the most perfect temper I ever knew ; I suppose he has never known a hard word or a blow since he was foaled, and all his pleasure seems to be to do what you wish ; but the chestnut I fancy must have had bad treatment; we heard as much from the dealer. She came to us snappish and suspicious, but when she found what sort of a place ours was, it all went off by degrees ; for three years I have never seen the smallest sign of temper, and if she is well treated there is not a better, more willing animal than she is ; but she is naturally a more irritable constitution than the black horse ; flies tease her more ; any- thing wrong in the harness frets her more ; and if she were ill-used or unfairly treateds he would not be- unlikely to give tit for tat ; you know that many high-mettled horses will do so." " Of course," said York, " I quite understand, but you know it is not easy in stables like these to have all the grooms just what they should be ; I do my best, and there I must leave it. I'll remember what you have said about the mare." They were going out of the stable, when John stopped and said, " I had better mention that we have never used the H 2 I'i k "■KTW"* jr"T~ ■ TT lOO /f/ih4' luautv. brariiif;-i<'in witli rillin <>! tluiii; the Iilack Itorsr nrvrr hati one on. aiiil tlir il»;il( r '^;iii| it was flic f^a^;-l)i( that spoiled the other's temper." " \V(>1I," said York, "if they roinr here, tlicy tniist wi-ar the b;-iein. I pieler a loose rein myself, ami his lord- ship is always very reasonaMe aiioiit horses; hut my lady — that's another lhin|4. '-he will have stylr ; and if her carriage liorses arc not reined up tif;ht, she woiddn't look at them. I always stand out a>,'ainst the ^ai^ hit, and shall do so, hut it must he tif^ht up when niy lady rides!" "I am very sonv for it, ver\ sorry," said John ; "hut I must ^Mi now, or 1 shall lose the train." Ilr eain»' round to each of ns to pat and speak to iis for the last time ; his voii(> sound«>d very sad. I lu'ld my fare close to him, that was all I could do to say f;ood hye ; aiul then he was gone, and I have never seen him siiue. The next day Lord \V came t(» look at ns ; he .seemed very pleast^l with our appearaiu'c. " 1 hav(> f;reat i-onfidencc in these horses," he said, " from the character my friend Mr. (Gordon has f,Mven me oftluMii. Of conrst> tht>y ;ue not a match in colour, but my idea is, that tlu>y will \\k> very well for the carriaj^e whilst we are in the country. l?efore we f;o to London I must try to match Haron ; the Mack horse. 1 believe is perfect A)r ridinj;." Y(Mk then told him what John had said about lis. " Well," said he, " you nuist keep an eye to the marc, and put the bearing-rein easy; I ilan' say they will kV^ very well with a little humourinfj at tirst. I'll juention it to your lady." In the afternoon we wcmc harnessed ami jnit in the carriaj^e, and as the stable clock struck three we were led round to the front of the house. It was all very strand, ami three or four times as large as the old house at Hirtvvick, but not half so pleasant, if a horse may have an opinion. Two footmen were standing ready, dressed 'n drab livery, with scarlet breeches « ll /ini/s/iti/i. lOI ;in^, and \.\i\[ into the ( arriaf,'n. This was the first titiir of wearing; flic lirarin/^-rcir), and I must say, thoii{,di it certainly was a niiisamc not to he ahic to f,' 's," she said, and then after a pause — " Are you never going to get those horses' heads up, York ? Raise them at once, and let us have no more of this humouring and nonsense." York came to me first, whilst the groom stood at Ginger's head. He drew my head back, and fixed the rein so tight that it was almost intolerable ; then he went to Ginger, who was impatiently jerking her head up and down against the bit, as was her way now. She had a good idea of what was coming, and the moment York took the rein off the terret in order to shorten it, she took her opportunity, and reared up so suddenly, that York had his nose roughly hit, and his hat knocked off; the groom was nearly thrown off his legs. At once they both ilew to lier head, but she was a match for them, and went on plunging, rearing, and kicking in a most desperate manner ; at last she kicked right over the carriage pole and fell down, after giving me a severe blow on my near quarter. There is no knowing what further mischief she might have done, had not York promptly sat himself down fiat on her head, to prevent her struggling, at the same time I I ! i 104 Black BeatUy. \ I calling out, "Unbuckle the black horse! run for the winch, and unscrew the carriage pole ; cut the trace here, somebody, if you can't unhitch it." One of the footmen ran for the winch, and another brought a knife from the house. The groom soon set me free from Ginger and the carriage, and led me to my box. He just turned me in as I was, and ran back to York. I was much excited by what had happened, and if I had ever been used to kick cr rear, I am sure I should have done it then ; but I never had, ;>:id there I stood angry, sore in my leg, my head still strained up to the terret on the saddle, and no power to get it down. I was very miserable, and felt much inclined to kick the first person who came near me. Before long, however, Ginger was led in by two grooms, a good deal knocked about and bruised. York came with her, and gave his orders, and then came to look at me. In a moment he let down my ead. "Confound these bearing-reins!" he said to himself; "I thought we should have some mischief soon — master will be sorely vexed; but there — if a woman's husband cnn't rule her, of course a servant can't ; so I wash my hands of it; and if she cxn't get to the Duchess' garden party, I can't help it." York did not say this before the men ; he always spoke respectfully when they were by. Now, he felt me all over, and soon found the place above my hock where I had been kicked. It was swelled and painful ; he ordered it to be sponged with hot water, and then some lotion was put on. Lord W uas much put out when he learned what had happened ; he blamed York for giving way to his mistress, to which he replied, that in future he would much prefer to receive his order ; only from his lordship; but I think nothing came of it, for ^hings went on the .iame as before. I thought York might havt stood up better foi his horses, but perhaps I am no judge. Ginger was nev'cr put into the carriage again, but when she ii I A Strike J or Liberty. 105 ^1 was well of her bruises, one of Lord W 's younger sons said he would like to have her ; he was sure she would make a f[ood hunter. As for me, I was obliged still to go in the carriage, and had a fresh partner called Max ; he had always been used to the tight rein. I asked him how it was he bore it. " Well," he said, " I bear it because I must ; but it is shortening my life, and it will shorten yours too, if you have to stick to it." " Do you think," I said, " that our masters know how bad it is for us ? " " I can't say," he replied, " but the dealers and the horse- doctors know it very well. I was at a dealer's once, who was training me and another horse to go as a pair ; he was getting our heads up, as he said, a little higher and a little higher every day. A gentleman who was there asked him why he did so ; ' Because,' said he, ' people won't buy them unless we do. The London people always want their horses to carry their heads high, and to step high ; of course it is very bad for the horses, but then it is good for trade. The horses soon wear up, or get diseased, and they come fff''' ^ ''■■! CHAPTER XXIV. THE LADY ANNE, OR A RUNAWAY HORSE ARLY in the spring, Lord W and part of his family went up to London, and took York with them. I and Ginger and some other horses were left at home for use, and the head groom was left in charge. The Lady Harriet, who remained at the Hall, was a great invalid, and never went out in the carriage, and the Lady Anne preferred riding on horseback with her brother or cousins. She was a perfect horsewoman, and as gay and gentle as she was beautiful. She chose me for her horse, and named me " Black Auster." I enjoyed these rides very much in the clear cold air, sometimes with Ginger, some- times with Lizzie. This Lizzie was a bright bay mare, almost thorough-bred, and a great favourite with the gentlemen, on account of her fine action and lively spirit ; but Ginger, who knew more of her than I did, told me she was rather nervous. •There was a gentleman of the name of Blantyre staying at the Hall ; he always rode Lizzie, and praised her so much, that one day Lady Anne ordered the side-saddle to be put on her, and the other saddle on me. When we came to the door the gentleman seemed very uneasy. "How is this?" he said; "are you tired of your good Black Auster ? " V.y^^^'VTil^fif ' "-^KTrfT " ■ t^i^smm ->.-.^«i9?fr^ silK WAS A I'KRl'KLT HOKSICWOMAN. The Lady Anne. log " Oh ! no, not at all," she replied ; " but I am amiable enough to let you ride him for once, and I will try your charming Lizzie. You must confess that in size and appear- ance she is far more like a lady's horse than my own favourite." " Do let me advise you not to mount her," he said ; " she is a charming creature, but she is too nervous for a lady. I assure you she is not perfectly safe ; let me beg you to h::ve the saddles changed." " My dear cousin," said Lady Anne, laughing, " pray do not trouble your good careful head about me ; I have been a horsewoman ever since I was a baby, and I have followed the hounds a great many times, tliough I know you do not approve of ladies hunting ; but still that is the fact, and I intend to try this Lizzie that you gentlemen are so fond of; so please help me to mount like a good friend as you are." There was no more to be said ; he placed her carefully on the saddle, looked to the bit and curb, gave the reins gently into her hand, and then mounted me. Just as we were moving off, a footman came out with a slip of paper and message from the Lady Harriet — " Would they ask this question for her at Dr. Ashley's, and bring the answer ? " The village was about a mile off, and the Doctor's house was the last in it. We went along gaily enough till we came to his gate. There was a short drive up to the house between tall evergreens. Blantyre alighted at the gate, and was going to open it for Lady Anne, but she said, " I will wait for you here, and you can hang Auster's rein on the gate." He looked at her doubtfully — " I will not be five minutes," he said. "Oh, do not hurry yourself; Lizzie and I shall not run away from you." He hung my rein on one of the iron spikes, and was soon hidden amongst the trees. Lizzie was standing quietly by the side of the road a few paces off with her back to me. My % no BUxck Ihauty. yiMin.t:^ mistn-ss was siltiii;,' r:\sily with a loose roin, liinnminf; a little sonj^. 1 listoiuMl to my i"i(l«M"s footsti'i)s until tlu'y tvac'hoil the lioiiso. and hoard him knock at llic door. Th(M(! was a mcMdo'.v on the op|H>siti' side of the road, tht> f^ato of which stood o|HMi ; just then some cart-horses and several yonnj; colts cami- trottinj^ out in a v(My disord(M"ly mamur, whilst a hoy hehind was eraekini; a j^reat whi|). The colts were wild and frolicsome, and oni> of them bolti-d across the road, and hhindered uj) against Lizzie's hind lei^s ; and whether it was the stupid colt, or the loud cracking; of the whip, or l)t)th toj^ether, I cannot say, hut she i^ave a violent kick, ar.d dashed oif into a headlong j^allop. It was so suddiMi that Lady Anne was nearly unseated, hut she s(hmi recovered herself. I f;ave a loud shrill neigh for helji : again and again I neighed, pawing the ground impatiently, and tossing ni\' head to get the rein loose. I had not long to wait, lilantyre came run- ning to the gate ; he looked anxiously about, and just caught sight of the ilying figure, now far away o\\ the road. In an instant he sprang to the saddle. I needed no whip or spur, tor I was as eager as my rider ; he saw it, and giving me a free rein, ami leaning a littU^ forw.ird, we dashed after them. I'or about a mile ami a half the road ran straight, and then bent to the right, after which it divided into two roads. Long before we came to the beml she was out of sight. Which way had she turned ? A woman was standing at her garden gate, shading her eyes with her hand, and lookiiig eagerly up the road. Scarcely drawing the rein, Blantyre shouted, " Which way ? " " To the right," cried the woman, pointing with her hand, and away we went up the rightdiand road ; then for a moment we caught sight of her ; another bend and she was hidden again. Several times we caught glimpses, and then lost tluMu. We scarcely seemed to gain ground upon them at all. An old road-mender was standing near a heap of stones — his shovel drojiped and his hands raised. As we came near he made a sign to speak. Blantyre drew the rein a little. " To the common, to the common, sir ; she has turned off .' \ The Lady /lnnc. I I I there." I knew tliis common very well ; it was for the most part very uneven f^roimd, coverc-d with heather and dark f^reen furze -bushes, with here and there a scnil)by ohi thorn-tree ; there were also open spaces, of fine short fi-: _ S soon as my knees were suffi- ciently healed, I was turned into a small meadow for a month or two ; no other creature was there, and though I enjoyed the liberty •^ and the sweet grass, yet I had been so long UFctl to society that I felt very lonely. Ginger and I had become fast friends, and now I missed her company extremely. ■;;■ ,.,;; I often neighed when I heard horses' -■""'" feet passing in the road, but I seldom got an answer ; till one morning the gate was opened, and who should come in but dear old Ginger. The man slipped off her halter and left her there. With a joyful whinny I trotted up to her ; we were both glad to meet, but I soon found that it was not for our pleasure that she was brought to be with me. Her story would be too long to tell, but the end of it was that she had been ruined by hard riding, and was now turned off to see what rest would do. Lord George was young and would take no warning; he was £24 Black Beauty. a hard rider, and would hunt whenever he could get the chance, quite careless of his horse. Soon after I left the stable there was a steeplechase, and he determined to ride. Though the groom told him she was a little strained, and was not fit for the race, he did not believe it, and, on the day of the race, urged Ginger to keep up with the foremost riders. With her high spirit she strained herself to the utmost ; she came in with the first three horses, but her wind was touched, beside which, he was too heavy for her, and her back was strained ; " And so," she said, " here we are — ruined in the prime of our youth and strength — you b}' a drunkard, and I by a fool ; it is very hard." We both felt in ourselves that we were not what we had been. However, that did not spoil the pleasure we had in each other's company ; we did not gallop about as we once did, but we used to feed, and lie down together, and stand for hours under one of the shady lime trees with our heads close to each other ; and so we passed our time till the family returned from town. One day we saw the Earl come into the meadow, and York was with him. Seeing who it was, we stood still under our lime tree, and let them come up to us. They examined us carefully. The Earl seemed much annoyed. "There is three hundred pounds liung away for no earthly use," said he ; *' but what I care most for is, that these horses of my old friend, who thought they would find a good home with me, are ruined. The mare shall have a twelvemonth's run, and we shall see what that will do for her ; but the black one, he must be sold : 'tis a great pity, but I could not have knees like these in my stables." " No, my lord, of course not," said York, "but he might get a place where appearance is not of much consequence, and still be well treated. I know a man in Bath, the master of some livery stables, who often wants a good horse at a low figure ; I know he looks well after his horses. The inquest cleared the horse's character, and your lordship's recommenda- tion, or mine, would be sufficient warrant for him." f Ruined, and Going Down-hill. 125 "You had better write to him, York. I should be more particular about the place than tl. money he would fetch." After this they left us. "They'll soon take you awny," said Ginfrer, "and I shall lose the only friend I have, and most likely we shall never see each other again. 'Tis a hard world ! " About a week after this, Robert came into the field with a halter, which he slipped over my head and led me away. There was no leave-taking of Ginger ; we neighed to each other as I was led off, and she trotted anxiously along by the hedge, calling to me as long as she could hear the sound of my feet. Through the recommendation of York, I w?s bought by the master of the livery stables. I had to go by train, which was new to me, and required a good deal of courage the first time ; but as I found the puffing, rushing, whistling, and more than all, the trenibling of the horse-box '"r. which I stood did me no real harm, I soon took it quietly. •IM 126 Black Beauty. \ I Uhen I reached the end of my jouiney. I found myself in a tolerably comfortable .table and well attended to. These stables were not so airy and pleasant as those I had been used to. The stalls were laid on a slope instead of being level, and as my head was kept tied to the manger, I was obliged always to stand on a slope, which was very fatiguing. Men do not seem to know yet. that Worses can do more work if they can stand comfortably and can turn about ; however I was well fed and well cleaned, and, on the whole. I think our master took as much care of us as he could. He kept a good many horses and carriages of different kinds, for hire. Some- times his own men drove them ; at others, the horse and chaise were let to gentlemen or ladies who drove themselves " ''';''(:;;,,;j||(jltfP^il/liii ;1 ' »« II CHAPTER XXVIII. A JOB HORSE AND HIS DRIVERS. ITHERTO I had always been driven by people wno at least knew how to drive ; but in this place I was to get my experience of all the different kinds of bad and ignorant driving to which we horses are subjected ; for I was a "job horse," and was let out to all sorts of people, who wished to hire me ; and as I was good-tempered and gentle, I think I was oftcner let out to the ignorant drivers than some of the other horses, because I could be depended upon. It would take a long time to tell of all the different styles in which I was driven, but I will mention a few of them. First there were the tight-rein drivers — men who seemed to think that all depended on holding the reins as hard as they could, never relaxing the pull on the horse's mouth, or giving him the least liberty of movement- They are always talking about " keeping the horse wen in hand," and " holding a horse up," just as if a horse was not made to hold himself up. Some poor broken-down horses whose mouths have been made hard and insensible by just such drivers as these, may, perhaps, find some support in it ; but for a horse who can depend upon his own legs, and who has a tender mruth, and is easily guided, it is not only tormenting, but it is stupid. 128 Black Beauty Then there are loose-rein drivers, who lit the reins He easily on our backs, and their own hand rest lazily on their knees. Of course, such gentlemen have no control over a horse, if anythint^ hajipens sutldenly. If a horse shies, or starts, or stumbles, they are nowhere, and cannot help the horse or themselves, till the mischief is done. Of course, for myself, 1 had no objection to it, as I was not in the habit either of starting or stumbling, anil had only been used to depend on my driver for guidance and encouragement ; still, one likes to feel the rein a little in going down-hill, and likes to know that one's driver is not gone to sleep. Besides, a slovenly wi.y of driving gets a horse into bad, and often lazy habits ; and when he changes hands, he has to be whipped out of them with mere or less pain and trouble. Squire Gordon always kept us to our best paces, and our best manners. He said that spoiling a horse, and letting him get into bad habits, was just as cruel as spoiling a child, and both had to suffer for it afterwards. Besides, these drivers are often careless altogether, and will attend to anything else more than their horses. I went out in the phaeton one day with one of them ; he had a lady, and two children behind. He flopped the reins about as we started, and of course, gave me several unmeaning cuts with the whip, though I was fairly off. There had been a good deal of road-mending going ( n, and even where the stones were not freshly laid down there were a great many loose ones about. My driver was laughing and joking with the iady and the children, and talking about the country to the riigrht and the left ; but he never thought it worth while to keep an eye on his horse, or to drive on the smoothest parts of the road ; and so it easily happened that I got a stone in one of my fore feet. Now, if Mr. Gordon, or John, or in fact, any good driver had been there, he would have seen that something was wrong, before I had gone three paces. Or e\'en if it had been dark, a practised hand would have felt by the rein that i^ I I ,l> A Job Horse and his Drivers. 129 there was snmethinpf wronf» in the step, and they would have pjot down and picked out the stone. But this man went on lauf,diinf; and talkinj^, whilst at every step the stone became more firmly wedded between my shoe and the froj; of my iof . The stone was sharp on the inside and round on the outs'de, which, as every one knows, is the most dan/:,'erons kind that a horse can pick up ; at the same time cutting his foot, and makmg him most liable to stumble and fah. Whether the man was partly blind, or only very careless, I can't say ; but he drove me with that stone in my foot for a good half-mile before he saw anything. By that time I was going so lame with the pain, thnt at last he saw it and called out, " Well, here's a go ! Why, they have sent us out with a lame horse ! What a shame ! " He then chucked the reins and flipped about with the whip, saying, " Now, then, it's no use playing the old soldier with me ; there's the journ y to go, and it's no use turning lame and lazy." Just at this time a farmer came riding up on a brown cob; he lifted his hat and pulled up. " I beg your pardon, sir," he said, " but I think there is something the matter with your horse, he goes very much as if he had a stone in his shoe. If you will allow me, I will look at his feet ; these loose scattered stones are confounded dangerous things for the horsej." " He's a hired horse," said my driver; " I don't know what's the matter with him, but it is a great shame to send out a lame beast like this." The farmer dismounted, and slipping his rein over his arm, at once took up my near foot. " Bless me, there's a stone ! lame ! I should think so ! " At first he tried to dislodge it with his hand, but as it was now very tightly wedged, he drew a stone-pick out of his pocket, and very carefully, and with some trouble, got it out. Then holding it up, he said, " There, that's the stone your horse had picked up ; it is a wonder he did not fall down and break his knees into the bargain 1 " ISO s t B/ac/j Beauty. n Uell, to be sure!" said my driver, "that is a queer Ihnig ! I never knew that horses picked up stones before." " Didn't you ? " said the farmer, rather contemptuously. But they do, though, and the best of them will do it and canUielp it sometimes on such roads as these. And if you don t want to lame your horse, you must look sharp and ^.et them out quickly. This foot is very much bruised," he said setting It gently down and patting me. " If I might advise' sir, you had better drive him gently for a while; the foot is a good deal hurt, and the lameness will not go off directly." Then, mounting his cob and raising his hat to the ladv he trottcH off. •^' When he was gone, my driver be,.;;an to flop the reins about, and v.h.p the harness, by which I understood that I was to ^o on which of course I did, glad that the stone was gone, but still in a good deal of pain. ^ This was the sort of experience we job horses often came in If "ml COCKNEYS. it' HEN there is the steam-engine style of driving. These drivers were mostly people from towns, who never had a horse of their own, and generpi.y travelled by rail. They always seemed to think that a horse was something like a steam-engine, only smaller. At any rate, they think that, if only they pay for it, a horse is bound to go just as far, and just as fast, and with just as heavy a load as they please. And be the roads heavy and muddy, or dry and good ; be they stony or smooth, up-hill or down-hill, it is all the same — on, on, on, one must go at the same pace, with no relief, and no consideration. These people never think of getting out to walk up a steep hill. Oh, no, they have paid to ride, and ride they will 1 The horse ? Oh, he's used to it ! What were horses made for, if not to drag people up-hill ? Walk ! A good joke indeed 1 And so the whip is plied and the rein is chucked, and often a rough scolding voice cries out, " Go along, you lazy beast 1 " And then another slash of the whip, when all the time we are doing our very best to get aU)tig, imcomplain- ing and obedient, though often sorely harassed and down- hearted. This steam-engine style of driving wears us up faster than K 2 CHAPTER XXIX. 11 1.1 2 Black Bcauly, any other kind. I would far rather go twenty miles with a good considerate driver than I would go ten with some of these ; it would take less out of me. Another thing— they scarcely ever put on the drag, however steep the down-hill may be, and thus bad accidents some- times happen ; or if they do put it on, they often forget to tnke it (iff at the bottom of the hill ; and more than once, I have had to pull halfway up the next hill, with one; of the wheels lodged fast in the drag-shoe, before my driver chose- to think about it ; and that is a terrible strain on a horse. Then these Cockneys, instead of starting at an easy pace as a gentleman would do, generally set oft" at full speed from the very stable-yard ; and when they want to stop, they first whip us and then pull up so sudilenly, chat we are nearly thrown on our luiunches, and our mouths jagged with the bit ; they call that pulling up with a dash ! and when they turn a corner, they do it as slunply as if there were no right side or wrong side of the road. I well r;Mnember one spring evening I and Rory had been out for the day. (Rory was the horse that mostly went with me when a pair was ordered, and a good honest fellow he was.) We had our own driver, and as he was always con- siderate and gentle with us, we had a very pleasant day. We were coming home at a good smart pace about twilight ; our road turned sharp to the left ; but as we were close to the hedge on our own side, and there was plenty of room to pass, our driver did not pull us in. As we neared the corner I heard a horse and two wheels coming rapitUy down the hill towards us. The hedge was high, and I could see nothing, but the ne.xt moment we were upon each other. Happily for me, I was on the side next the hedge. Rory was on the right side oi" the pole, and hatl not even a shaft to protect him. The man who war driving was making straight for the corner, and when he came in sight of w: he had no time to pull over to his own f.ide. The whole shock came upon Rory. The gig shaft ran right into the chest, making him stagger back with a cry Cockneys. 133 that I shall never forf^et. The other horse was thrown upon his Iiaunchcs, and one shaft broken. It turned out that it was a horse from our own stables, with the high-wheeled gig that the young men were so fond of. The driver wa« one of those random, ignorant fellows who don't even know which is their own side of the road, or if they know, don't care. And there was poor Rory with his ilesh torn open and bleeding, and the blood streaming down. They said if it had been a little more to one side, it would have killed him ; and a good thing for him, poor fellow, if it had. As it was, it was a long time before the wound healed, and then he was sold for coal-carting ; and what that is, up and down those steep hills, only horses know. Some of the sights I saw there, where a horse had to come down-hill with a heavily-loaded two-wheel cart behind him, on which no drag could be placed, make me sad even now to think of. After Rory was disabled, I often went in the carriage with a mare named Peggy, who stood in the next stall to mine. She was a strong, well-made animal, of a bright dun colour, beautifully dappled, and with a dark-brown mane and tail. There was no high breeding about her, but she was very pretty, and remarkably sweet-tempered and willing. Still, there was an anxious look about her eye, by which I knew that she had some trouble. The first time we went out together I thought she had a very odd pace ; she seemed to go partly a trot, partly a canter— three or four paces, and then a little jump forward. It was very unpleasant for any horse who pulled with her, and made me quite iidgety. When we got home, I asked her what made her go in that odd, awkward way. " Ah," she said, in a troubled manner, " I know my paces are very bad, but what can I do ? It really is not my fault ; it is just because n)y legs are so short. I stand nearly as high as you, but your legs are a good three inches longer above your ■knee than mine, and of course you can take a much longer '.VI Bfa< k Jhaufy sli'p, ;Miil !;i> mm h l:r^(ri. N iliil II •« mnkt' iM\m 11 : \ w i^li I I iMilil Ii;U(' iliMii- ^;n ; I WMiilil 1\;i\p hml li>li^ If'l:;'^ (hm ni\ lionhli"; coini' liniu my ^ln>i( l*'}^"^,"* siiiil I ''^;«}. '" ■' \\ ■,\\ il<"5)ii>mliii!; I'Mii'. " \\\\\ Ibnv i=- \(." I ':;nil. " \\l\i'n \ nii WW ;(< qjioni; ;inil !;nni| <)'nn>(M I'll ;mil \\ lUmt; ■^ " \\ Iw . \ 'Ml '^;c'('," 'Aiiiil --111'. " mrn will >;i> mi Im'^I. ;inil i( kmc (■:in'1 Kir|> n)> 1" ollin Ihm'wc;, iI m nnlliiiu; hut whip, whip, hip. ;lll till' Imii'. \llil '-.K I ll:l\c ll;til rlllllilli": ;l I'lMni \v;l\- ;ip;lli. ;ini| ;l iMr;l( ili'iil ol wi'ik. hill Iir mxi'i ^~\ uliicil ni \\1ii)'jmi| mi' (m nnl !;i'm>; (n'^ln . i |r \\ ,1; M I \ li 'Mil 1 II nil I I'll I \ \\ 1 h I w .1; \\ il h hnn iii>\\ . hn( (ii- h.iil to li'iiM' aiiil rn In .1 l.iiKi' (nwii. ;iiiil (Inn I WHS 'i^lil I0 :i 1,11 niri " SiMur i.ii inri .. \ iMi Know . :ii (• 1 ipihil mH'-lcrs ; hnl 1 (liinK II11S oiii' \\;l'; ;i liW\ ^^imI oI 111.111. Ilr rnn'il nolhllli; nhniil (nhhI hoi';i's 01 qiioil .hniii!;, hi' oiiU iiicil loi Ki'iii!; I;is(. | wnU ns l.u-1 ;\s 1 1 iMil.l. hnl (h.il wonlil not itii. iiml hi' Wiic^ lll\v;^\•^ \vhii>pin!: ; '-0 1 \\\A mtotlir^ \\,i\ nl muKmi^ ,1 spmi!; Imwniil to lvri')> np On 111.11 krl iii<;lit'- hi' n-ril to A,\\ \('l\ l;i1r ;i( thi- inn, .iiiil ihi n liiivr honir .it .1 i;.illo)i. " Oni" .i.iik nii.ht ho w.i'- r.illopm!; home ;\s iimi.i1, wlirii .ill on .1 ^iiilili n iho wheel i .iiiie .ii;,ini',t '-ome i;ie,i1 he,i\\ tlinif; \\\ llie 10, 111, .iiiil tnincl the jms; o\ ei in \\ niinnte. He w;!-^ ihvown out .niil hr- .iini 'oioken, .iiiil 'Miine ol lir- nlv;. \ think. .\t .in\ i,Ue. it w.e- the emi oi ni\ hxiii;; with hiiii. .iiiil I w;is MiM SO1 1 \ . Ihit \oii ^.ee it will he the '.,1111.' e\ei\wheie lor me, i1 men ifins! >;i> '-o I.e-t. 1 wr-h iii\ le;-. were lonj;ei ' " Tool re!;!:\ ' 1 w.is \ei\ mi(i\ |oi h.'i , ,ins tv> he put Willi 1.i''t ones; .ill llv whip|>in". » onii". to then sh.iie. ,ni.l the\ > .in't help it. ( 0( kitrys. >i.") Sli'^ n';i=: (iftcii i|t;i(| in tlic [•li;i''l'iii. ntid \v:it; \f'iv itiu' li lil;rfl l»\- miinc ()( IIh- I'ulirt;, lict ,\\\<^\r t^lif u:m m> !'<'nll»' ; ;irifl t^'iinn Jim'' ;i (III t lii'^ '"Jm" \v;m suM In I wi |;mIi(i; w hi i 'li m\' ( liirii ;ilvf=;, ;ilii| \\;illli'i| M q;i((', (jiiiiil I|ii|^f>. I iiiil lii'i ';i'\'i"i;il tinier out in llii' <'ii|ii(iv. f;"iii;^ :i (yioil S;ii| !i:iim<' (hi ^liviii!,' ;iiii( ';l:nlMi!;, \<\ wliii li III' li;ii| |im( ,'i (Miiiij |>!;n I'. I aqj.cil liliii wlcit iii:m|i' lnni '■■M\ . " Well. I ll;mllv klli.w." lie q;ili| ; " I \v;in liiiiiij wliri) I w;m yMiliif;, iinij w;i'; ;i (mmhI i|r;il ft i(;lilf-ni'i| ';f'vri;il Imir;, ;mii| if | S:i\V nnytllillK Slinil'n', I l|';i'il (n llllll ;il|i| jm.!; ;i| il y,,|l ^f'C, uillliiill l)lilil;i'is fine f nn'l 'xcr n\ iiinlci ■;|;iiii| \\li;i( ;i lliini'iq illlli'^4 Dill' iiiMli ;i|',v;i\' . i';i\r nir n \vl)i|i|iiii<;. wliii II nl (ninm- iikmIi' tnc ';l;ii I lui, ;ini| ilnlrinl iii!il

U'iilli iiiiin w.r; i kIim.; u iIIi Iiiiii, ;ini| !» l;ii(;i' |iiiM I' 111 wliilr piiprr or i;i|; I. jew ;n 1 1 1 ;<; |im| on i.rif !^iil<' |'( mi' ; I sliinj Jiiiil sinilnl (mi\v;iii| m\' ni;i';(ii ;n; ii<;ii;i| \vlli|i|)ri| mr ■UlKilllv. I 'III I lie m|i I liiii n i in - 1 mil . ' \'i mi'i i' v\|i.|i(' ! you're \vi(>i)|; ! ymi •.limilij ncvn \vlii|i;i liipr.rdu ';|i\in(': lie shies l.crniisc III' is (i i,!;li|i'iii'i|. :,ih| ynii i„,|v (ti!;|il,|, h,,,, •"""'. ;""! 'ii;iIm' (III- liiil.il wnrsc' Sm I <.ii|i|)nM- ;,|| ,,,.•,, .I.uri • In SI.. I mil sine I .InlTl \V;llll |i. shy du llic s.ikc ,,| || ; I, III linw !,lli.llli| mil' kiiMVV ull;il is il;l n;;i'i i .ir, iilnl \v|l;i| r; nnl, |( oiir is never ;llln\\i d (.. r.rl ll .nl (i. ;ili\ llllll,; .' | .m, II,. VI I ,i(l,i|i| of wli.il I know. Now I wa'i |.iihi!;IiI ii|) II, a p.nk wliiie lliere wrie ijeei ; o( r.un .e. I klHW IIhiii ,i ; \\ , || ,r; | ,||,| ;, sheep or ;i eow. Iml llirs' ;iieno| I iiininon, ;iiii| I km .w in, my sensilile lioiM ■, win. ai,. IiipIiI, mil a| llinn. ,ini| wliu kirk up (Jilile ,1 :.liliiil3' lieloie Uny will p,i :, ,i p.nlilni k win ir IImh iue ileei." Iff I' :l. 1.^6 Black Beauty. I knew what my companion said was true, and I wished that every younj::; horse had as good masters as Farmer Grey and Squire Gordon, Of course we sometimes came in for good driving here. I remember one morning I was put into the hght gig and taken to a house in Puhcney Street. Two gentlemen came out ; the taller of them came round to my head ; he looked at the bit and bridle, and just shifted the collar with his hand, to see if it fitted comfortably. " Do you consider this horse wants a curb ? " he said to the ostler. '* Well," said the man, " I should say he would go just as well without ; he has an uncnmmon good mouth, and though he has a fine spirit, he has no vice ; but we generally find people like the curb." " I don't like it," said the gentleman ; " be so good as to take it off, and put the rein in at the cheek ; an easy mouth is a great thing on a long journey, is it not, old fellow ? " he said, patting my neck. Then he took the reins, and they both got up. I can re- member now how quietly he turned me round, and then with a light feel of the rein, and drawing the whip gently across my back, we were off. I arched my neck and set off at my best pace. I found I had someone behind me who knew how a good horse ought to be driven. It seemed like old times again, and made me feel (juite gay. This gentleman took a great liking to me, and after trying me several times with the saddle, he prevailed upon my master to sell me to a friend of his, who wanted a safe, pleasant horse for riding. Ami so it came to pass that in the summer 1 was sold to Mr. Barry. j CHAPTER XXX. A THIEF, ;; •■ II new master was an un- married man. He lived at Bath, and was much engaged in business. His doctor advised him to take horse exercise, and for this purpose he bought me. He hired a stable a short distance from his lodgings, and engaged a man named Filcher as groom. My master knew very little about horses, but lie treated me wfll, and I should have had a good and easy place, but for circumstances of which he was ignorant. He ordered the best hay, with plenty of oats, crushed beans, and bran, with vetches, or rye grass, as the man might think needful. I heard the master give the order, so I knew there was plenty of good food, and I thought I was well off. For a few days all went on well ; I found that my groom under- stood his business. He kept the stable clean and airy, and he groomed me thoroughly, and was never otherwise than gentle. He had been an ostler in one of the great hotels in Bath. He had given that up, and now cultivated fruit and vegetables for the market ; and his wife bred and fattened poultry and rabbits for sale. After a while it seemed to me 1.^,8 Black Beauty. that my oats came very short ; I had the beans, but bran was mixed with them instead of oats, of which there were very few ; certainly not more than a quarter of what there should have been. In two or three weeks this began to tell upon my strength and spirits. The grass food, though very good, was not the thing to keep up my condition without corn. However, I could not complain, nor make known my wants. So it went on for about two months : and I wondered my master did not ' see that something was the matter. However, one afternoon he rode out into the country to see a friend of his — a gentle- man farmer, who lived on the road to Wells. This gentleman had a very quick eye for horses ; and after he had welcomed his friend, he said, casting his eye over me — " It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not look so well as he did when you first had him. Has he been well ? " " Yes, I believe so," said my master, " but he is not nearly so lively as he was ; my groom tells me that horses are always dull and weak in the autumn, and that I must expect it." " Autumn ! fiddlestick ! " said the farmer ; " why this is only August ; and with your light work and good food he ought not to go down like this, even if it was autumn. How do you feed him ? " My master told him. The other shook his head slowly, and began to feel me all over. " I can't say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, but I am much mistaken if your horse gets it. Have you ridden very fast?" " No ! very gently." " Then just put your hand here," said he, passing his hand over my neck and shoulder ; " he is as warm and damp as a horse just come up from grass. I advise you to look into your stable a little more. I hate to be suspicious, and, thank heaven, I have no cause to be, for I can trust my men, present or absent ; but there are mean scoundrels wicked enough to rob a dumb beast of his food ; you must look into it." And turning to his man who had come to take me, " Give this horse a right good feed of bruised outs, and don't stint him." ?. A Thief. '39 " Dumb beasts ! " yes, we are ; but if I could have spoken, I could have told my mas'er where his oats went to. My groom used to come every morning about six o'clock, and with him a little boy, who always had a covered basket with him. He used to go with his lather into the harness-room where the corn was kept, and I could see them, when the door stood ajar, fill a little bag with oats out of the kin, and then he used to be off. Five or six mornings after this, just ns the boy had left the stable, the door was pushed open and a policeman walked in, holding the child tight by the arm ; another policeman followed, and locked the door on the inside, saying, " Show me the place where your father keeps hie rabbits' food." The boy locked very frightened and began to cry; but there was no escape, and he led the way to the corn-bin. Here the policeman found another empty bag like that which was found full of oats in the boy's basket. Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but they soon saw him.and.though he blustered a good deal, they walked him off to the " lock- up," and his boy w i t h h i m. I heard after- wards that the boy was not held to be guilty, but the man was sentenced to prison for two months. %\ 1 .^1 CHAPTER XXXI. A HUMBUG. Y master was not immediately suited, but in a few days my new groom came. He was a tall, good-looking fellow enough ; but if ever there was a humbug in the shape of a groom, Alfred Smirk was the man. He was very civil to me, and never used me ill ; in fact, he did a great deal of stroking and patting, when his master was there to see it. He always brushed my mane and tail with water, and my hoofs with oil before he brought me to the door, to make me look smart ; but as to cleaning my feet, or looking to my shoes, or grooming me thoroughly, he thought no more of that than if I had been a cow. He left my bit rusty, my saddle damp, and my crupper stiff. Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome ; he spent a great deal of time about his hair, whiskers, and necktie, before a little looking-glass in the harness-room. When his master was speaking to him, it was always, "Yes, sir; yes, sir," touching his hat at every word ; and everyone thought he was a very nice young man, and that Mr. Barry was very fortunate to meet with him. I should say he was the laziest, most con- ceited fellow I ever came near. Of course, it was a great thing not to be ill-used, but then a horse wants more than that. I had a loose box, and might have been very comfortable if he 141 had not been too indolent to clean it out. He never took all the straw away, and the smell from what lay underneath was very bad ; while the strong vapours that rose up made my eyes smart and inflame, and I did not feel the same appetite for my food. One day his master came in and said, " Alfred, the stable smells rather strong. Should not you give that stall a good scrub, and throw down plenty of water ? " "Well, sir," he said, touching his cap, "I'll do so if you please, sir, but it is rather dangerous, sir, throwing down water in a horse's box ; they are very apt to take cold, sir. I should not like to do him an injury, but I'll do it if you please, sir." " Well," said his master, " I should not like him to take cold, but I don't like the smell of this stable. Do you think the drains are all right ? " " Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the drain does some- times send back a smell ; there may be something wrong, sir." "Then send for the bricklayer and have it seen to," said his master. " Yes, sir, I will." The bricklayer came and pulled up a great many bricks, and found nothing amiss ; so he put down some lime and charged the master five shillings, and the smell in my box was as bad as ever. But that was not all ; standing as I did on a quantity of moist straw, my feet grew unhealthy and tender, and the master used to say — " I don't know what is the matter with this horse ; he goes very fumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid he will stumble." " Yes, sir," said Alfred, " I have noticed the same myself, when I have exercised him." Now, the fact was, that he hardly ever did exercise me, and when the master was busy, I often stood for days together without stretching my legs at all, and yet being fed just as high as if I were at hard work. This often disordered my health, and made me sometimes heavy and dull, Lat more often rest- less and feverish. He never even gave me a meal of green- 142 Black Beauty. meat or a bran ma?li. which would have cooled me, for he was altogether as ignorant as he was conceited ; and then, instead of exercise or change of food, I had to take horse balls and draughts ; which, beside the nuisance of having them poured down my throat, used to make me feel ill and uncomfortable. One day my feet were so tender that, trotting over some fresh stones with my master on my back, I made two such serious stumbles that, as he came down Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the farrier's, and asked him to see what was the matter with me. The man took up my feet one by one and examined them ; then, standing up and dusting his hands one against the other, he said — " Your horse has got the ' thrush,' and badly too ; his feet are very tender ; it is fortunate that he has not been down. I wonder your groom has not seen to it before. This is the sort of thing we find in foul stables, where the litter is never properly cleared out. If you will send him here to-morrow, I will attend to the hoof, and I will direct your man how to apply the liniment which I will give him." The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed and stuffed with tow, soaked in some strong lotion ; and a very unpleasant business it was. The farrier ordered all the litter to be taken out of my box day by day, and the floor kept very clean. Then I was to have bran mashes, a little green-meat, and not so much corn, till my feet were well again. With this treatment I soon regained my spirits ; but Mr. Barry was so much disgusted at being twice deceived by his grooms, that he determined to give up keeping a horse, and to hire when he wanted one. I was therefore kept till my feet were quite sound, and was then sold again. I a w CHAPTER XXXII. A HOKSIi FAIR, j%%>^y"' // 'Z O doubt a horse fair is a very ^ amusing place to those who have nothing to lose ; at any rate, there is plenty to see. Long strings of young horses out of the country, *^ fresh from the marshes ; and droves of shaggy little Welsh ponies, no higher than Merrylegs ; and hun- dreds of carthorses of all their long tails braided up, and a good many like myself, handsome and high-bred, but fallen into the middle class, through some accident or blemish, unsoundness of wind, or some other complaint. There were some splendid animals quite in their prime, and fit for anything ; they were throw- ing out their legs and showing off their paces in high style, as they were trotted out with a leading rein, the groom running by the side. But round in the background there were a number of poor things, sadly broken down with hard work ; with their knees knuckling over, and their hind legs swinging sorts, some of them with and tied with scarlet cord ; n 144 Black Beauty. out at every step ; and there were some very dejected-looking old horses, with the under lip hanging down, and the ears lying back heavily, as if there was no more pleasure in life, and no more hope ; there were some so thin, j^ou night see all their ribs, and some with old sores on their backs and hips ; these were sad sights for a horse to look upon, who knows not but he may come to the same state. There was a great deal of bargaining ; of running up and beating down, and if a horse may speak his mind so far as he understands, I should say there were ..ore lies told and more trickery at that horse fair than a clever man could give an account of. I was put with two or three other strong, useful- looking horses, and a good many people came to look at us. The gentlemen always turned from me when they saw my broken knees ; though the man who had me swore it was only a slip in the stall. The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then to look at my eyes, then feel rU the way down my legs, and give me a hard feel of the skin and flesh, and then try my paces. It was wonderful what a difference there was in the way these things were done. Some did it in a rough offhand way, as if one were only a piece of wood ; while others would take their hands gently over one's body, with a pat now and then, as much as to say, " by your leave." Of course I judged a good deal of the buyers by their manners to myself. There was one man, I thought if he would buy me I should be happy. He was not a gentleman, nor j-ctoneofthe loud flashy sort that called themselves so. He was rather a small man, but well-made, and quick m all his motions. I knew in a moment, by the way he handled me, that he was used to horses ; he spoke gently, and his grey eye had a kindly, cheery look in it. It may seem strange to say — but it is irue all the same — that the clean fresh smell there was about him made me take to him ; no smell of old btcf and tobacco, which I hated, l)ut a fresh smell as if he had come out of a hayloft. He offered twenty-three pounds for me ; but that was refused, r ^1 Horse Fair. M5 and he walked away. I looked after him, but he was gone, and a very hard-looking, loud-voiced iimn came; I was dread- fully afraid lie would have me ; but he walked off. One or two more came who did not mean busin3.-;s. 1 hen the hard-faced man came back again and offered twenty-three pounds. A very close bargain was being driven ; lor my salesman began to think he should not get all he asked, and must come down. But just then the grey-eyed man came back again. I Xii! '^ • 1' 'I " riii.Y \vi:kk tiikowinc, out thkir i.f.hs and showint, on- tiiicir I'A( ks. I could not help reaching out my head towards him. He stroked my Hice kindly. " Well, old chap," he said, " I think we should suit each other. I'll gi\e twenty- four for liiiii." " Say twenty-ti\'e, and \'ou shall have liim." "TwciUy-four ten," said my friend, in a vt'ry decided tone, "and not anniluT sixpcnci; — )es or no ? " 146 Black Beauty. " Done," said the salesman ; " and you may depend upon it there's a monstrous deal of quality in that horse, and if you want him for cab work, he's a bargain." The money was paid on the spot, and my new master took my halter, and led me out of the fair to an inn, where he had a saddle and bridle ready. He gave me a good feed of oats, and stood by whilst I ate it, talking to himself and talking to me. Half an hour alter we were on our way to London, through plea- sant lanes and country roads, until we came into the great London thoroughfare, on which we travelled steadily till in the twilight we reached the great city. The gas lamps were already lighted ; there were streets to the right, and streets to the left, and streets crossing each other for mile upon mile. I thought we should never come to the end of them. At last, in passing through one, we came to a long cabstand, when my rider called out, in a cheery voice, " Good-night, governor ! " •• Halloo 1 " cried a voice, " have you got a good one ? " " I think so," replied 'INTO llIK liKI'AT I.ONIION TIIOKOUCJll !■ AKE." lUy QWncr. A Horse Fair. 147 A COMFORTARI.!'- CI.EAN-SMEI.I.ING STAI.l. WITH PLENTY OF DRY STRAW." " I wish you luck with him." " Thank ye, s^overnor," and he rode on. We soon turned up one of the side streets, and about half-way up that we turned into a very narrow street, with rather poor-lookinj^ houses on one side and what seemed to be coach-houses and stables on the other. My owner pulled op at one of the houses and whistled. The door flew open, and a younj; woman, followed by a little girl and boy, ran out. There was a very lively greetinj^ as my rider dismounted. " Now then, Harry, my boy, open the gates, and mother will bring us the lantern." The next minute they were ali standing round me in a small stable-yard. " Is he gentle, father ? " " Yes, Dolly, as gentle as jour own kitten ; conu; and pat hmi." L 2 148 Black Beauty. At once the little hand was patting about all over my shoulder without fear. How good it felt ! " Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him down," said the mother. " Do, Polly, it's just what he wants, and I know you've got a beautiful mash ready for me." " Sausage dumpling and apple turnover," shouted the boy, which set them all laughing. I was led into a comfortable clean-smelling stall with plenty of dry straw, and after a capital supper, I lay down, thinking I was going to be happy. CHAPTER XXXIII. LONDON CAB H O R S K 1^- W^^i^^^^^iM Y new master's name was Teremiah Barker, but, as everyone called him Jerry, I shall do the same. Polly, his wife, was just as ,s^ood a match as a man could have. She was a plump trim, tidy little woman, with smooth dark hair, dark eyes, and a merry little mouth. The boy was nearly twelve years old, a tall, frank, good-tempered lad ; and little Dorothy (Dolly they called her) was her mother over again at eight years old. They were all wonderfully fond of each other , 1 never knew such a happy, merry family before or since. Jerry had a cab of his own, and two horses, which he drove and attended to himself. His other horse was a tall, white, rather large-boned animal, called Captain ; he was old now, but when he was young he must have been splendid ; he had still a proud way of holding his head and arching his neck ; in fact, he was a high-bred, fine-mannered, noble old horse, every inch of him. He told me that in his early youth he went to the Crimean War; he belonged to an officer in the cavalry, and used to lead the regiment ; I will tell more of that hereafter. The next morning, when I was well groomed, Polly and Dolly came into the yard to see me, and make friends. Pa^-ry had been helping his father since the early morning, and haa I50 Black Beauty. stated his opinion that I should turn out a " regular brick/^ Polly brought me a slice of apple and Dolly a piece of bread, and made as much of me as if I had been the " Black Beauty '' of olden time. It was a great treat to be petted again, and talked to in a gentle voice, and I let them see as well as I could that I wished to be friendly. Polly thought I was very hand- some, and a great deal too good for a cab if it was not for the broken knees. " Of course, there's no one to tell us whose fault that was " said Jerry, " and, as long as I don't know, I shall give him the benefit of the doubt ; for a firmer, neater stepper I never rode; we'll call him ' Jack,' after the old one— shall we, Polly ? " " Do," she said, " for I like to keep a good name going." Captain went out in the cab all the morning. Harry came in after school to feed me and give me water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab. Jerry took as r.,uch pains to see if the collar and bridle fitted comfortably as if he had been John Manly over again. When the crupper was let out a hole or two, it all fitted well. There was no bearing-rein— no curb- nothing but a plain ring-snaffle. What a blessing that was ! After driving through the side street we came to the large cabstand where Jerry had said "Good-night." On one side of this wide street were high houses with wonderful shop-fronts, and on the other was an old church and churchyard surrounded by iron palisades. Alongside these iron rails a number of cabs were drawn up, waiting for passengers : bits of hay were lying about on the ground ; some of the men were standing together talking ; some were sitting on their boxes reading the newspaper ; and one or two were feeding their horses with bits of hay, and a drink of water. We pulled up in the rank at the back of the last cab. Two or three men came round and began to look at me and pass their remarks. " Very good for a funeral," said one. " Too smart-looking," said another, shaking his head in a very wise way ; " you'll find out something wrong one of these fine mornings, or my name isn't Jones." ?cnrcrTT5; "1 CI o a a: o '52 Black Beauty. " We^l," said Jerry, pleasantly, " I suppose I need not find it out till it finds me out, eh? and, if so, I'll keep up my spirits a little longer." Then came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a great grey coat with great grey capes and great white buttons, a grey hat, and a blue comforter loc^sely tied round his neck ; his hair was grey, too, but he was a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way for him. He look H me ^ ■' over, as if he had been goin^ to buy me; and then, s".. .>• ^ ung himself up with a grunt, he said, " He's the right scr' ■ u, Jerry ; I don't care ^\hat you gave for him, he'll b^ wort" '^" Thus my character was established on the stand. This man's name was Grant, but he was called " Grey Grant," or " Governor Grant." He had been the longest on that stand of any of the men, and he tool; iL upon himself to settle matters and stop disputes. He was generally a good- humoured, sensible man ; but if his temper was a little out, as it was sometimes, when he had drunk too much, nobody liked to come too near his fist, for he could deal a very heavy blow. The first week of my life as a cab horse was very trying ; I had never been used to London, and the noise, the hurry, the crowds of horses, carts, and carriages that I had to make my way through made me feel anxious and harassed ; but I soon found that I could perfectly trust my driver, and then I made myself easy, and got used to it. Jerry was as good a driver as I had ever known ; and, what was better, he took as much thought for his horses as he did for himself. He soon found out that I was willing to work and do my best ; and he never laid the whip on me, un- less it was gently drawing the end of it over my back when I was to go on ; but generally I knew this quite well by the way in which he took up the reins ; and I believe his whip was more frequently stuck up by his side than in his hand. In a short time I and my master understood each other as well as horse and man can do. In the stable, too, he did all ■that he could for our comfort. The stalls were the old- A London Cab Horse. 153 fashioned style, too much on the slope ; but he had two mov- able bars fixed across the back of our stalls, so that at nij^ht, and when we were resting,', he just took off our halters, and put up the bars, and thus we could turn about and stand whichever way we pleased, which is a great comfort. Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much change of food as he could, and always plenty of it ; and not only that, but he always gave us plenty of clean, fresh water, which he allowed to stand by us both night and day, except, of course, when we came in warm. So.ne people say that a horse ought not to drink all he likes ; but I know if we are allowed to drink when we want it, we drink only a little at a time, a it does us a great deal more good than swallowing down ha': a '" :ket- ful at a time, because we have been left witho" till are thirsty and miserable. Some grooms will go ' n\^ to their beer and leave us for hours with our dry hay ani osts and nothing to moisten them ; then, of course, we ulp down too much at once, which helps to spoil our breati ,1^, and some- times chills our stomachs. But the best thing that we had here was our Sundays for rest. We worked so hard in the week, that I do not think we could have kept up to it but for that day ; besides, we had then time to enjoy each other's company. It was on these days that I learned my companion's history. :.l%l li CHAPTER XXXIV. AN OLD WAR HORSE. APTAIN had been broken in and trained for an army horse ; his first owner was an officer of cavalry going out to the Crimean War. He said he quite enjoyed the train- ing with all the other horses, trotting to- gether, turning together, to the right hand or to the left, halting at the word of command, or dashing forward at full speed at the sound of the trumpet or signal of the officer. He was, when young, a dark, dappled iron grey, and considered very handsome. His master, a )^oung, high-spirited gentleman, was very fond of him, and treated him from the first with the greatest care and kindness. He told me he thought the life of an army horse was very pleasant ; but when it came to being sent abroad, over the sea in a great ship, he almost changed his mind. " That part of it," said he, " was dreadful ! Of course we could not walk off the land into the ship ; so they were obliged to put strong straps under our bodies, and then we were lifted off our legs in spite of our struggles, and were swung through the air over the water, to the deck of the great vessel. There we were placed in small, close stalls, and never for a long time saw the sky or were able to stretch our legs. The ship sometimes rolled about in high wind>^, and we were i An Old IVar Horse. 155 knocked about, and felt bad enou,<:^h. However, at la^t it came to an end, and we were hauled up, and swung over again to the land ; we were very glad, and snorted and neighed for joy when we once more felt firm ground under our feet. "We soon found that the country we had come to was very different to our own, and that we had many hardships to endure besides the fighting; but many of the men were so fond of their horses, that they did everything they could to make them comfortable, in spite of snow, wet, and all things out of order." I "we were LIFTKI) oik our I.ECS . . . AND SWUNC. IHROUGH THE AIR." "But what about the fighting?" siid I. "Was not that worse than anything else ? " " Well," said he, " I hardly know ; we alv. ays liked to hear the trumpet sound, and to be called out, and were impatient to start off, though sometimes we had to stand for hours, waiting for the word of command ; and when the word was given, we used to spring forward as gaily and eagerly as if there were no cannon balls, bayonets, or bullets. I believe so long as we telt our rider firm in the saddle, and his hand steady on the I^6 Black Beauty. bridle, not one of us gave way to fear, not even when the terrible bombshells whirled through the air and burst into a thousand pieces. " I with my noble master went into many actions together without a wound ; and though I saw horses shot down with bullets, pierced through with lances, and gashed with fearful sabre-cuts, though we left them dead on the field or dying in the agony of their wounds, I don't think I feared for myself. My master's cheery voice, as he encouraged his men, made me feel as if he and I could not be killed. I had such perfect trust in him, that whilst he v/as guiding me I was ready to charge up to the very cannon's mouth. I saw many brave men cut down, many fall mortally wounded from their saddles. I had heard the cries and groans of the dying, I had cantered over ground slippery with blood, and frequently had to turn aside to avoid trampling on wounded man or horse, but until one dreadful day I had never felt terror ; that day I shall never forget." Here old Captain paused for a while and drew a long breath. I waited, and he went on — " It was one autumn morning, and, as usual, an hour before daybreak our cavalry had turned out, ready caparisoned for the day's work, whether it might be fighting or waiting. The men stood by their horses waiting, ready for orders. As the light increased, there seemed to be some excitement among the officers ; and before the day was well begun we heard the firing of the enemy's guns. " Then one of the officers rode up and gave the word for the men to moumt, and in a second every man was in his saddle, and every horse stood expecting the touch of the rein or the pressure of his rider's heels, all animated, all eager ; but still we had been trained so well that, except by the champing of our bits and the restive tossing of our heads from time to time, it could not be said that we stirred. "My dear master and I were at the head of the line, and as all sat motionless and watchful, he took a little stray lock of my mane which had turned over on the wrong side, laid it An Old War Horse. '57 over on the right, and smoothed it down with his hand ; then patting my neck, he said, ' We shall have a day of it lo-day, Bayard, my beauty ; but we'll do our duty as we have done.' He stroked my neck that morning more, I think, than he had ever done before ; quietly on and on, as if he were thinkir-; of something else. I loved to feel his hand on my neck, and arched my crost proudly and happily; but I st )od very still, for I knew all his moods, and when he liked me to be quiet and when gay. " I cannot tell all that happened on that day, but I will tell of the last charge tha. we made together : it was across a valley right in front of the enemy's cannon. By this time we were well used to the roar of heavy guns, the rattle of musket fire, and the flying of shot near us ; but never had I been under such a fire as we rode through on that day. From the right, from the left, and from the front, shot and shell poured in upon us. Many a brave man went down, many a horse fell, flinging his rider to the earth ; many a horse without a rider ran wildly out of the ranks : then, terrified at being alone with no hand to guide him, came pressing in amongst his old companions, to gallop with them to the charge. " Fearful as it was, no one stopped, no one turned back. Every moment the ranks were thinned, but as our comrades fell, we closed in to keep them together ; and instead of being shaken or staggered in our pace, our gallop became faster and faster as we neared the cannon, all clouded in white smoke, while the red fire flashed th.'ough it. " My master, my dear master, was cheering on his comrades with his right arm raised on high, when one of the balls whi/zing close to my head, struck him. I felt h'm stagger with he shock, though he uttered no cry ; I i.."ied to check my speed, but the sword dropped from his right hand, the rein fell loose from the left, and sinking backward from the saddle, he fell to the earth ; the other riders swept past us, and by ^he force of their charge I was driven from the spot where he fell. "I vvanted to keep my place by his side, and not leave Vt 1 158 Black Beauty. him under that rush of horses' feet, but it was in vain • and now without a master or a friend, I was alone on that great slaughter ground ; then fear took hold on me, and I trembled as I had never trembled before ; and I too, as I had seen other horses do, tried to join in the ranks and gallop with -nen. ; but I was beaten off by the swords of the soldiers just then a soldier whose horse had been killed under him caught at my bri.Ue and mounted me ; and with this new master I was again going forward: but our gallant company was cruelly overpowered, and those who remained alive after the fierce fight for the guns came galloping back over the same ground Some of the horses had been so badly wounded tha they could scarcely move from the loss of blood ; other noble cr.atures were trying on three legs to .Irag themselves along, a others were struggling to rise on their fore feet when their hind legs had been shattered by shot. Their groans were piteous to hear, and the beseeching look in their eyes as those who escaped passed by and left them to their fVvte. I shal never forget. After the battle the wounded men were brought in, and the dead were buried." " And what about the wounded horses ? " I said. " Were tiiey '.>ft to die?" '' No, the ■ • ^-' farriers went over the field with their pistols and shot .1 ..:..t were ruined; some that had ouly slight wounds were brought back and attended to, but the -Greater part of the noble, willing creatures that went out that nmrnin^ never came back ! In our stables there was only about one in four that returned. " I never saw my dear mas! :r again. I believo he fl:il dead from the saddle. I .uncr hned any other master so well l went Tto many other engagements, but was only once ^vounded, and the. not seriously; and when the war was IIV llIK lOKlK III'- llll. K ( llARi.l', 1 U,\^ HKIV'I.N lUOM llll'. >l'nl Wlll.l.l' III'. M.I |..' i6o Black Beauty» •■' Ah ! " said he, " I should think they never saw it. No doubt it is very fine when there is no enemy, when it is just exercise and parade and sham-fight. Yes, it is very fine then ; but when thousands of good brave men and horses are killed, or crippled for life, it has a very different look." " Do you know what they fought about ? " said I. " No," he said, "that is more than a horse can understand, but the enemy must have been awfully wicked people, if it was right to go all that way over the sea on purpose to kill them." S-f r'i ';''i^*Pi-:.r Jlil^ ^\ — V^'J Vn pu%^as« CHAPTER XXXV. JERRY BARKER. this— NEVER knew a better man than my new master; he was kind and good, and as strong for the right as John Manly ; and so good- tempered and merry, that very few people could pick a quarrel with him. He was very fond of making little songs, ant! singing them to himself. One he was very fond of was *' Come, father and moi'ier, And sister and brother, Come, all of you, turn to And help one another." And so they did. Harry was as clever at stable-work as a much older boy, and always wanted to do what he could. Then Polly and Dolly used to come in the morning to help with the cab — to brush and beat the cushions, and rub the glass, while Jerry was giving us a cleaning in the yard and Harry was rubbing the harness. There used to be a great deal of laughing and fun between them, and it put Captain and me in much better spirits than if we had heard scolding and hard words. They were always early in the morning, for Jerry would say — " If you in the morning Throw minutes away, You can't pick ihein up In the course of the day. You may hurry and scinry, And thury and w >rry, You've lost them (or ever, For evi'r and aje, ' M l62 Black Beauty He could not bear any careless loitering and waste of time ; and nothing was so near making him angry as to find people who were always late wanting a cab horse to be driven hard, to make up for their idleness. One dav two wild-looking young men came out of a tavern close by the stand, and crlled Jeriy. " Here, cabby ! look sharp ; we are rather late. Put on the steam, will you, and take us to the Victoria in time for the one o'clock train ? You shall have a shilling extra." " I will take you at the regular pace, gentlemen ; shillings don't pay for putting on the steam like that." Larry's cab was standing next to ours ; he flung open the door, and said, " I'm your man, gentlemen ! Take my cab ; my horse will get you there all right ; " and as he shut them in, with a wink towards Jerry, said, " It's against his conscience to go beyond a jog-trot." Then, slashing his jaded horse, he set off as hard as he could. Jerry patted me on the neck — " No, Jack, a shilling would not pay for that sort of thing, would it, old boy ? " Although Jerry was determinately set against hard driving to please careless people, he always went a good fair pace, and was not against putting on the steam, as he said, if he only knew why. I well remember one morning, as we were on ♦' r' st-ind waiting for a fare, that a young mar carrying a eavy portmanteau, trod on a piece of orange-peel which lay on the pavement, and fell down with great force. Jerry was the first to run and lift him up. He seemed much stunned, and as they led him into a shop, he walked as if he were in great pain. Jerry of course came back to the stand, but in about ten minutes one of the shopmen called him, so we (hew up to the pavement. " Can you take me to the South-Eastern Railway ? " said the younp, nian. " This unlucky fall has made me late, I fear; but it is of ,",;'.ir ii iportnnce that I should not lose the twelve o'clock train. ' should be most thankful if you could get me there in lim.^ and \\\\ gladly pay you n extra fare." Jerry Barker. 163 I I " I'll do my very best," said Jerry, heartily, " if you think you are well enough, sir," for he looked dreadfully white and ill. " I vmst go," he said, earnestly. " Please to open the door, and let us lose no time." The next minute Jerry was on the box, with a cheery chirrup to me, and a twitch of the rein that I well understood. "Now then. Jack, my boy," said he, "spin along; we'll show them how we can get over the ground, if we only know why." It is always difficult to drive fast in the City in the middle of the day, when the streets are full of traffic, but we did what could be done ; and when a good driver and a good horse, who understand each other, are of one mind, it is wonderful what they can do. I had a very good mouth — that is, I could be guided by the slightest touch of the rein, and that is a great thing in London, amongst carriages, omnibuses, carts, vans, trucks, cabs, and great waggons creeping along at a walking pace ; some going one way, some another, some going slowly, others wanting to pass them, omnibuses stopping short every few minutes to take up a passenger, obliging the horse that is coming behind to pull up too, or to pass and get before them. Perhaps you try to pass, but just then something else comes dashing in through the narrovv opening, and you have to keep in behind the onmibus again. Presentl}' you think you see a chance, and manage to get to the front, going so near the wheels on each side, that alf an inch nearer and they would scrape. Well, you get along f )r a bit, but soon find yourself in a long train of carts and carriages all obliged to go at a walk. Perhaps you come to a regular block-up, and have to stand still for minut .s together, till something clears out into a side street, ( the policeman interferes. You have to be ready for any chance — tc dash for- ward i<" there be an opening, and be quick as a rat-dog to see if there be room, and if there be time, lest you get your own wheels locked or smashed, or the shaft of some other vehicle M 2 \ I;- ■ :flW^ 164 Black Beauty. run into your chest or shoulder. All this is what you have to be ready for. If you want to get through London fast in the middle of the day, it wants a deal of practice. Jerry and I were used to it, and no one could beat us at getting through when we were set upon it. I was quick and bold, and could always trust my driver ; Jerry was quick, and patient at the same time, and could trust his horse, which was a great thing too. He very seldom used the whip ; I knew by his voice and his click-click when he wanted to get on fast, and by the rein where I was to go ; so there was no need for whipping ; but I must go back to my story. The streets were full that day, but we got on pretty well as far as the bottom of Cheapside, where there was a block for three or four minutes. The young man nut his head out, and said, anxiously, " I think I had better get out and walk ; I shall never get there if this goes on." " I'll do all that can be done, sir," said Jerry. " I think we shall be in time ; this block-up cannot last much longer, and your luggage is very heavy for you to carry, sir." Just then the cart in front of us began to move on, and then we had a good turn. In and out, in and out, we went, as fast as hsjrsetlesh could do it, and for a wonder had a good clear time on London Bridge, for there was a whole train of cabs and carriages, all going our way at a j lick trot— perhaps wanting to catch that very train ; at any rate, we whirled into the station vvith many more just as the great clock pointed to eight minutes to twelve o'clock. " Thank God ! we are in tiinc," said the young man, "and thank you too, my friend, ai;'i \(.\\\ good horse. You have saved me more than mor.ey <:m\ m\\\x pay for ; take this extra half- crown." "No, sir, no, thank you /til tl'. saine; so glad we hit the time, sir, but don't stay now, if ; the boll is ringing. Here, porter! take this gentleman's Uiggage- -Dover line — twelve o'clock train — that's it " and witl nit waitiu!.' for another word, Jerry wheeled me round to make riKim for other cabs that were I la r>/ Jerry Barker, 165 dashing up at the last minute, and drew up on one side till the crush was past. "'So glad!' he said, 'so glad!' poor young fellow I I wonder what it was that made him so anxious ! " Jerry often talked to himself quite loud enough for me to hear, when we were not moving. On Jerry's return to the rank, there was a good deal of laughing and chaffing at him for driving hard to the train for an extra fare, as they said, all against his principles ; and they wanted to know how much he had pocketed. "A good deal more than I generally get," said he, nodding slily. " What he gave me will keep me in little comforts for several days." " Gammon ! " said one. " He's a humbug," said another, " preaching to us, and then doing the same himself" " Look here, mates." said Jerry, " the gentleman offered me half-a-crown extra, but I didn't take it ; 'twas quite pay enough for me, to see how glad he was to catch that train ; and if Jack and I choose to have a quick run now and then to please our- selves, that's our business and not yours." " Well," said Larry, "■ yoiill never be a rich man." " Most likely not," said Jerry, " but I don't know that I shall be the less happy for that. I have heard the Commandments read a groat many times, and I never noticed that any of them said, ' Thou shalt be rich ; ' and there are a good many curious things said in the New Testament about rich men that I think would make me feel rather queer if I was one of them." " If you ever do get rich," said Governor Gray, looking over his shoulder across the top of his cal), " you'll deserve it, Jerry, and you won't find a curse come with your wealth. As for you, Larry, you'll die poor; you sjiend too much in whipcord." " Well," said Larry, " what is a fellow to do if his horse won't go without it ? " " You nc\er take the troubk; to see if he will go without it ; your whip is always going as if }ou had the St. Vitus' 1 66 Black Beauty. dance in your arm ; and if it does not wear you out, it wears your horse out ; you know you are always changing your horses, and why? because you never give them any peace or encouragement." " Well, I have not had good luck," said Larry, " that's where it is." " And you never will," said the Governor; "Good Luck is rather particular who she rides with, and mostly prefers those who have got cc non sense and a good heart; at least, that is my experience." Governor Gray turned round again to his newspaper, and the other men went to their cabs. B "jerry karkk.r." 'i CHAPTER XXXVI. I THE SUXnAV CAB. NE morning, as Jerry had just put me into the shafts and was fasteninj:^ the traces, a gentleman walked into the yard. "Yojr servant, sir," said Jerry. " Good morning, Mr. Bar- ker," said the gentleman. " I should be glad to make some arrange iients with you for taking Mrs. Briggs regu- larly to church on Sunday mornings. We go to the New Church now, and that is rather further than she can walk." "Thank you, sir," said Jerry, " but I have only taken out a six days' licence and therefore I could no*, take a fare on a Sunday ; it would not be legal." ' A few yenrs since ihe annual ch^r\:,e for n r.ib licence was very much reduced, and the difference between the six and seven dayb' cabs was abolished. [ i6S Black Beauty, " Oh ! " said tlie other, " I did not know yours was a six days' cab ; but, of course, it would be very easy to alter your licence. I would see that you did not lose by it. The fact is, Mrs. Briggs very much prefers you to drive her." " I should be glad to oblige the lady, sir, but I had a seven days' licence once, and the work was too hard for me, and too hard for my horses. Year in and year out, not a day's rest, and never a Sunday with my wife and children, and never able to go to a place of worship, which I had always been used to do before I took to the driving-box ; so for the last five years I h;i\-e only taken a six days' licence, and I hnd it better all the way round." " Well, of course," replied Mr. Briggs, " it is very proper that every person should have rest, and be able to go to church on Sundays, but I should have thought you would not have mmded such a short distance for the horse, and only once a day ; you would have all the afternoon and evening for yourself, and we are very good customers, you know." " Yes, sir, that is true, and I am grateful -for all favours, I am sure, and anything that I could do to oblige you or the lady I should be proud and happy to do; but I can't give up my Sundays, sir ; indeed I can't. I read that God made man and He made horses and all the other beasts, and as soon as He had made them, He made a day of rest, and bade that all should rest one day in seven ; and I.think, sir. He must have known what was good for them, and I am sure it is good for me ; I am stronger and healthier altogether now that I have a day of rest ; the horses are fresh, too, and do not wear up nearly so fast. The six-day drivers all tell me the same, and I have laid by more money in the Savings' Bank than ever I did before; and as for the wife and children, sir- why, heart alive ! the)- would not go back to the seven days for all they could see." " Oh, very well," said the gentleman. " Don't trouble your- self. Mr. Barker, any further; I will inquire somewhere else" and he walked awa^•. ' V* The Sun ia\ Cab. 69 " Well," says Jerry to me. " we can't helj) it, Jack, old boy ; we must have our Sundays." " Polly ! " he shouted. " Polly ! come here." She was there in a minute. " What is it all about, Jerry ? " •' W'hy, my dear, Mr. Briggs wants me to take Mrs. Briggs 'SUNDAY KKST. to church every Sunday morning. I say I have only a six days' licence. He says, ' Get a seven days' licence, and I'll make it worth your while ' ; and you know, Polly, they are very good customers to us. Mrs. l)riggs often goes out shopping for hours, ur making calls, and then she pays down IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) .V^ ^H 1.0 I.I 1.25 iiiJiU |2.5 Ui 1^ 12.2 Sf 144 ■" m III 1.6 I. 1.4 V] /. Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WUSTM.N.Y. MStO (714) 872-4503 <^\ M iV \\ ^^ 6^ '^ I70 Black Beauty. fair and honourable like a lady ; there's no beating down, or making three hours into two h(iurs and a half, as some folks do ; and it is easy work for the horses ; not like tearing along to catch trains for people that arc always a quarter of an hour too late ; and if I don't oblige her in this matter, it is very likely we shall lose them altogether. What do you say, little woman ? " " I say, Jerry," says she, speaking very slowly, " I say, if Mrs. Briggs would give you a sovereign every Sunday .-norning, I would not have you a seven days' cabman again. We have known what it was to have no Sundays ; and now we know what it is to call them our own. Thank God, you cam enough to keep us, though it is sometimes close work to pay for all the oats and hay, the licence, and the rent besides ; but Harry will soon be earning something, and I would rather struggle on harder than we do than go back to those horrid times, when you hardly had a minute to look at your own children, and we never could go to a place of worship to- gether, or have a happy, quiet day. God forbid that we should ever turn back to those times ; that's what I say, Jerry." " And that is just what I tcjld Mr. Briggs, my dear," said Jerry, "and what I mean to stick to; so don't go and fret yourself, Polly " (for she had begun to cry) ; '* I would not goback to the old times if I earned twice as much ; so that is settled, I'ttle woman. Now, cheer up, and I'll be off to the stand." Three weeks had passed away after this conversation, and no order had come from Mrs. Briggs ; so there was nothing but taking jobs from the stand. Jerry took it to heart a good deal, for of course the work was harder for horse and man ; but Polly would always cheer him up and say, " Nevermind, father, never mind — " Do ymir best, AntI k'.ive the rest, ''I'will all come li^ht Some clay or ni^lit." It soon bernme known that Jerry hail lost his best customer, and for what reason. Most of the men said he was a fool, but two or three took his part. The Sumliy Cab, 171 \ "If workinj^ men don't stick to their Sunduy," said Truman, " they'll soon have none left. It is every man's right and every beast's right. By God's law we have a day of rest, and by the law of England v,e have a day of rest ; and I say we ought to hold to the rights these laws give us, and keep them for our children." " All very well for you religious chaps to talk so," said Larry, " but I'll turn a shilling when I can. I don't believe in religion, for I don't see that your religious petjple are any better than the rest." " If they are not better," put in Jerry, " it is because they are not religious. You might as well say that our country's laws are not good because some people break them. If a man gives way to his temper, and speaks evil of his neighbour, and does not pay his debts, he is not religious; I don't care how much he goes to church. If some men are shams and humbugs, that does not make rclijijon untrue. Real religion is the best ^nd the truest thing in the world ; and the only thing that can make a man really happy, or make the world any better." " If religion was good for anything," said Jones, "it would prevent your religious people from makir.g us work on Sundays, as you know many of them do, and that's why I say religion is nothing but a sham. Why, if it was not for the church and chapel goers it would be hardly worth while our coming out on a Sunday ; but they have their privileges, as they call them, and I go without. I shall expect them to answer for my soul, if I can't get a chance of saving it." Several of the men applauded this, till Jerry said — •' That may sound well enough, but it won't do ; every man must look after his own soul ; you can't lay it down at another man's door, like a foundling, and expect him to take care of it ; and, don't you see, if you are always sitting on your box waiting for a fare, they will say, ' If we don't take him, someone else will, and he does not look for any Sunday.' Of course they don't go to the bottom of it, oc they would see if they never came fur a cab it would be no us'; your standing there : % / * }ii(ul' lUautv. l)nt ))('mil(' don't alwnvs liki- fo qc. tf> tlto boltoiii of tliint^s; it may not \w coiiviMiici't to yV'' it ; l)nt if yon Sntnlay diivrrs wonld all stiik'^ (or a day of rest, the tliinj; would in- done." "And what would all tlu- f^ood pconlc do if thi-y conld not fict to thrir favourite prcarlK-rs ? " said Larry. " "lis not for inc to la\- down plans foi other peo|>l(\" said Jerry; " hut if they can't walk so far. they can };o to what is nearer; and if it should rain they can put on their marintoshes as thev do on a wtn-k-day. If a thnii^ is ri^ht, it itut 1)(> done, and if it is wroni;. it o;;/ be d^'ur 7vih',ll\' (.line iimnini^' .Kross the miid with the l.iiiteiii (she .ilways hioii^'ht it to liiiii if it was not very wet). " It lias all come ri;,'lit, jerry; Mrs. I'>rij,'f,'s sent her serv.int this alteriioon to ask yoii to tak(,' her out to-inorrow at eleven o'clock. I said, ' Yes. I thonf,'lit so, hut we supposed she employed someone else now.' "'Well,' s.iys he, 'the real fact is, master was put out because Mr. P.arker refused to come on Sinidays, and he has been tryin;^' other eal)S, but there's something,' wronj,' with them all; some drive too fast, and some too slow, and the mistress says there is not one of them so nice and clean as yours, and nothing; will suit her but Mr. i'.arker's cab a^ain.'" Polly was almost out of breath, and Jerry broke out into a merry lauj^h — "All come ri^ht some day or ni{,dit. You were rij^'ht. my dear; you j^'enerally are. Run in and j^'et the supper, and I'll have Jack's harness off and make him smif^' and happy in no time." After this, Mrs. lirif,'|,'s wanted Jerry's c.ib cpn'te as often as belore, never, however, on a Sunday; but there came a dav 174 /W,},1' fhiintw wlirn wo \\.\A Smiilnv \mmK. :»nil tlii'; wn'; lunv il liMppi'iicil. W'r linii nil I Hint" liiMMi" on till S,it)iiil;i\ iiii;hl vnv (iitil. niul WW \i\,\\\ 1i> tliink lliat the iM'Nt tlay wnuM In- iill icsl, liiit so il wh'^ imI 1i> be. (^n Siuiil;>\ iiiiMnini; Ini\- \\;i'; t Iciiiin;: xwr in tlit> v.inl, wIk'm Tolly strppril up to liiin, liMikim; xciv lull ol somrllnnf^. " W lul IS it ? ■' sni.l |rii\ . " W I'll. in\ Ji n."';l\r ^aiil. " pooi Pin;ili Hi-nvii li;\s jn^t \vm\ w Ictln lu(>ni;lit 1<^ "^nv lh:\l liri niolluM is ilniif;t'r(>i.sly ill, anti tliat sho iini^t f:o tluit tlv il she wi'^ltrs lo 'ii-c Ikm alive, llio place is inoit' than trn inilc^ a\\a\ Irnm l>ri(>, out in llie ronnttx. anil slie savs il slii> lake; the tiain ^\\v slionM still h;'.\(> lonv tniirs io walk ; ,'nil so wc ,\k as she is, antl the l>abv onl\' l<>nr wet-ks oM, ol cont^r that wtnild lu- iirpossiMc ; and slie wants to kn<>w it \on wonM lake lur \\\ \oMt eal). ami slie pioinises to pay yo>i lailhlnlly as slie »an f;et the nion«'v." " Tnt. Int. we'll see ahotit (hat. It was n<^( the money T was tlnnknii; about, bnt of losin>: our Sntidax . Ihe hois«>sare tncil, anil 1 am (ii(Nl tiH> that's wheit^ it piiu hes." " It ]ii!iehes all round, for (hat n\atler." said I'olly, " for it's <^nly hall Snnd.^y without you ; but you know we should *V'' (o other peo|^l(> a>; we shouKl like (he\ should do (<\ us; and I know \eiy W(^ll wha( 1 should lik(^ if m\ mother was (lyinj; ; and, j it won't bn-ak the Sabbath; for if pulhni; a ptvM b(\\s( or donk«\\- tMi( o\ a pit wtuiM not spoil it, I am ipii(<> suii^ (akmi: i>oor Dinah wiMild tiot iV^ i(." " W In. Tolly, you ari> as }^.Hid as (he ininis(er. and so, as I'vo had my Sunday mornini; stM-mmi early ti^day. \o\\ may f^o ami (ell Dinah (ha( 111 be ready lor her as (he dock strikes ten; but stop— just step r.Mind to butchiM" Hraydon's with my com- pliments, and ask him if lu^ would h-nd me his lij^ht trap ; I kiuwv he never uses it o\\ the Suiulay. auvl it would make a wonvlerful diffei/i/( H Rule, 75 "All rif;lil," s;iii| In •. " imi\v niil mf> up ;i hit of lii(;nl ;iihI t lifcm-, Mini I'll he l);u k m tlir iiflfiiumii ;i^ '-•xm ;is I c-ui." " Ami I'll li;ivr llir mcil pii- tcMdy f'>r ;m v;\\\y \v;\ \\<\vm\{\\ fi ir (ImiK'i . ' siiifl l'i)il\': iiinl ;i\v;iv '-li'' went. \\liil';t lie iujhIo liis pr(>ii;i!;itii>im fo tlir limcol "I'nlK'-; tln' wdiiiiUi mihI no ini^taki'." littli' brown book he is so I 176 Black Beauty, fond of, then wandered round the meadow and down by a h'ttle brook, where he picked the flowers and the hawthorn, and tied them up with long sprays of ivy ; then he gave me a good feed of the oats which he had brought with him ; but the time seemed all too short. I had not been in a field since I left poor Ginger at Earlshall. We came home g-^ntly, and Jerry's first words were as we came into the yard, " Well, Polly, I have not lost my Sunday after all, for the birds were singing hymns in every bush, and I joined in the service ; and as for Jack, he was like a young colt." When he handed Dolly the flowers, she jumped about for joy. 'or ROM. OMK O.N MY BACK.'* CHAPTRR XXXVIII. DOLLY AND A KICAL CKNTI.KNf AS. . no TOoel. .- d'-'S-^'*- - T f-p^ c^ZvY': "V'V/vi. HE winter came in early, with .i i^rtat J -, ,- ^ .. ^j^,,^j ^|- ^^^i^j j^j^^j ^^.^,j There was snow, or sleet, or rair., ahnost every day for weeks, chan^inj^ only for keen driving winds or sharp frosts. The horses all felt it very much. When it is a dry cold, a couple of good thick rugs will keep the warmth in us; but when it is soaking rain, they soon get wet through and are Some of the drivers had a waterproof cover to throw over, which was a fine thing ; but some of the men were so poor that they could not protect either them- selves or their horses, and many of them suffered very much that winter. When we horses had worked half the day we went to our dry stables, and could rest ; whilst they had to sit on their boxes, sometimes staying out as late as one or two o'clock in the morning, if they had a party to wait for. When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, that was the worst of all for us horses. One mile of such travelling, with a weight to draw, and no firm footing, would take more out of us than four on a good road ; every nerve and muscle of our bodies is on the strain to keep our balance ; and added to this, the fear of falling is more exhausting than anything else. If the roads are very bad in.ieed, our s")oes are roughed, but that makes us feel nervous at first. N it u 178 Black Buxitty. When the weather was very bad, manv of the men would go and sit in the tavern close by, and p:ct someone to watch for them ; but they often lost a fare in that way, and could not, as Jerry said, he there without spending; money. He never went to the " Rising Sun ;" there was a coffee-sliop near, where he now and then went : or he bought of an old man who came to our rank with tins of hot coffee and pies. It was his ojMuion that spirits and beer made a man colder afterwards, and that dry clothes, good food, cheerfulness, and a comfortable wife at home, were the best things to keep a cabman warm. Polly always supplied him with something to eat when he could not get home, and sometimes he \»oul(l see little Dolly peeping from the corner of the street, to make sure if " father " was on the stand. If she saw him, she would run off at full speed and soon come back with something in a tin or basket — some hot soup or pudding that Polly had ready. It was wonderful how such a little thing could get safely across the street, often thronged with horses and carriages ; but she was a brave little maid, and felt it quite an honour to bring "father's first course," as he used to call it. She was a general favourite on the stand, and there was not a man who would not have seen her safely across the street, if Jerry had not been able to do it. One cold windy day Dolly had brought Jerry a basin of something hot, and was standing by him whilst he ate it. He had scarcely begun, when a gentleman, walking towards us very fast, held up his umbrella. Jerry touched his hat in return, gave the basin to Dolly, and was taking off my cloth, when the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, " No, no, finish your soup, my friend ; I have not much time to spare, but I can wait till you have done, and set your little girl safe on the pavement." So saying, he seated himself in the cab. Jerry thanked him kindly, and came back to Dolly. " There, Dolly, that's a gentleman ; that's a real gentleman, Dolly. He has got time and thought for the comfort of a poor cabman and a little girl." Jerry finished liis ;<'U|i, set the child across, and then took I f I Dol'y ixnd a Real Gentleman. 179 tiis orders to drive to " Clapham Rise." Several times after that the same gentleman took our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and horses, for whenever we took him to his own door, two or three dogs would come bounding out to meet him. Sometimes became round and patted me, saying, in his quiet, pleasant way, " This horse has got a good master, and he deserves it." It was a very rare thing for anyone to notice the horse that had been working for him. I have kiiown ladies do it now and then, and this gentleman and one or two others have given me a pat and a kind word ; but ninety-nine out of a hundred would as soon think of patting the steam-engine that drew the train. This gentleman was not young, and there was a forward stoop in his shoulders as if he was always going at something. His I'ps were thin, and close shut, though they had a very pleasant smile ; his eye was keen, and there was something in his jaw and the motion of his head that made one think he was very determined in anything he set about. His voice was pleasant and kind ; any horse would trust that voice, though it was just as decided as everything else about him. One day he and another gentleman took our cab. They stopped at a shop in R Street, and whilst his friend went in, he stood at the door. A little ahead of us on the other side of the street a cart with two very fine horses was standing before some wine vaults ; the carter was not with them, and I cannot tell how long they had been standing, but they seemed to think they had waited long enough, and began to move off. Before they had gone many paces, the carter came running out and caught them. He seemed furious at their having moved, and with whip and rein punished them brutally, even beating them about the head. Our gentleman saw it all, and stepping quickly across the street, said, in a decided voice — " If you don't stop that directly, I'll have you summoned for leaving your horses and for brutal conduct." The man, who had clearly been drinking, poured forth some abusive language, but he left off knocking the horses about, and N 2 i8o Black Beauty. taking the reins, p^ot into his cart ; meantime our friend had quietly taken a note-book from his pocket, and looking at the name and address painted on the cart, he wrote something down. " What do you want with that ? " growled the carter, as he cracked his whip and was moving on. A nod, and a grim smile, was the only answer he got. On returning to the cab, our friend was joined by his com- panion, who said laughingly, " I should have thought, Wright, you had enough business of your own to look after, without troubling yourself about other people's horses and servants." Our frienil stood still for a moment, and throwing his head a little back, " Do you know why this world is as bad as it is?" " No," said the other. " Then I'll tell you. It is because people think only about their own business, and won't trouble themselves to stand up for the oppressed, nor bring the wrong-doer to light. I never see a wicked thing like this without doing what I can, and many a master has thanked me for letting him know how his horses have been used." " I wish there were more gentlemen like you, sir," said Jerry, " for they are wanted badly enough in this city." After this we continued our journey, and as they got out of the cab, our friend was saying, " My doctrine is this, that if we see cruelty or wrong that we have the power to stop, and do nothing, we make ourselves sharers in the guilt." . CHAPTER XXXIX. SP:EDY SAM. SHOULD say that for a cab-horse I was very well off indeed ; my driver was in\ owner, and it was his interest to treat nie well, and not overwork ine, even had he not been so Kood a man as he was ; but there were a great many horses which belonged to the large cab-owners, who let them out to their drivers for so much money a day. As the horses did not belong to these men, the only thing they thought of was, how to get their money out of them, first, to pay the master, and then to provide for their own living, and a dreadful time some of these horses had of it. Of course I understood but little, but it was often talked over on the stand, and the Governor, who was a kind-hearted man, and fond of horses, would sometimes speak up if one came in very much jaded or ill-used. One day, a shabby, miserable-looking driver, who went by the name of " Seedy Sam," brought in his horse looking dreadfully beat, and the Governor said, — " You and your horse look more fit for the police station than for this rank." The man flung his tattered rug over the horse, turned full round upon the Governor, and said, in ^ voice that sounded almost desperate, — " If the police have any business with the matter, it ought I82 liuiik Beauty. to be with the inartors who char,i:[e us so much, or with the fares t'nat arc fixed so low. If a man has to pay eighteen shilhngs a day for the use of a cab and two horses, as many ot us have to do in tlie season, and must make that up before we earn a penny for ourselves — I say, 'tis more than hard work ; nine shillinf^^s a day to get out of each horse, before you begin to get your own living ; you know that's true, and if the hordes don't work we must starve, and I and my children have known whai that is hcfoic now. I ve six of 'cm, and only one earns anythi'ig; I am on the stand fourteen or sixteen hours a day, and I haven't had a Sunday these ten or twelve weeks ; you know, Skinner never gives a day if he can help it, and if I don't work hard, tell me who docs ! I want a warm coat and a macintosh, but with so many to feed, how can a man get it ? I had to pledge my clock a week ago to pay Skinner, and I shall never see it again." Some of the other drivers stood rouiul nodding their heads, and saying he was right. The man went on, — " You that have your own horses and cabs, or drive for good masters, have a chance of getting on, and a chance of doing right ; I haven't. We can't charge more than sixpence a mile after the iirst, within the four-mile radius. This very morning I had to go a clear six miles and only took three shillings. I could not get a return fare, and had to come all the way back ; there's twelve miles for the horse and three shillings for me. After that I had \ three-mile fare, and there were bags and boxes enough to have brought in a good many twopences if they had been put outside ; but you know how people do ; all that could be piled up inside on the front seat, were put in, and three heavy bo.xes went on the top, that wus sixpence, and the sr.icnv SAM.' Seedy Sum. 1S3 t I fare on<- and sixpence ; then I pfot a rotnrn for a shillincj; now that makes eighteen miles for the horse and six shiUings for me ; there's three shilHngs still for that horse to earn, and nine shillings for the afternoon horse before I touch a penny. Of course it is not always so bad as that, but you know it often is, and I say 'tis a mockery to tell a man that he must not overwork his horse, for when a beast is downright tired, there's nothing but the whip that will keep his legs agoing — you cvni help yourself — you must put your wife and children before the horse, the masters must look to that, we can't. I don't ill-use my horse for the sake of it ; none of you can say I do. There's wrong lays somewhere — never a day's rest— never a quiet hour with the wife and children. 1 often feel like an old man, though I'm only forty-five. You know how cpiick some of the gentry are to suspect us of cheating and over-charging • why, they stand with their purses in their hands, counting it over to a penny, and looking at us as if we were pickpockets. I wish some of 'em had got to sit on my box sixteen hours a day, and get a living out of it, and eighteen shillings beside, and that in all weathers ; they would not be so uncommon particuhr never to give us a sixpence over, or to eram all the luggage inside. Of course, some of 'em tip us pretty handsome now and then, or else we could not live, but you can't (/t'/>('>i(/ upon that." The men who stood round, much approved this speech, and one of them said, " It is desperate hard, and if a man some- times does what is wrong, it is no wonder, and if he gets a dram too much, who's to blow him up ? " Jerry had taken no part in this conversation, but I never saw hib face look so sad before. The Governor had stc,od with both his hands in his pockets; now he took his handkerchief out of his hat, and wiped his forehead. " "^'ou've beaten me, Sam," he said, " for it's all true, and J won't cast it up to you any more about the police ; it was the look in that horse's eye that came over me. It is hard lines for man, and it is hard lines for beast, and who's to mend it I don't know; but any way you might tell the poor beast tha i84 Ji/iuk Beauty. you were snrrv to takr it out of him in that way. Somi times a kind word is all \vc can jjive 'em, poor brutes, and 'tis wonder- ful what they <.\o understand." A few mornincjs after this talk, a new man came on the stand with Sam's cab. " Halloo ! " said one, " what's up with Seedy Sam ? " " He's ill in betl," said the man ; " ho was taken last nij^'ht in the yard, and could scarcely crawl home. His wife sent a boy this morniiij:;; to say, his father was in a high fever and could not get out ; so I'm here instead." The next morning the same man came again. " How is Sam ? " inquired the Governor. " He's gone," said the man. " What, gone ? You don't mean to say he's dead ? " "Just snuffed out," said the other; " he died at four o'clock th'.') morriing ; all yesterday he was raving — raving about Skinner, and ha\ing no Sundays. ' I never had a Sunday's rest,' these were his last words." No one spoke for awhile, and then the GoxLrnor said, " I tell you what, mates, this is a warning for us." ¥ CHAPTER XL. POOR GINGER. NE (lay. wliilst our cab and many others wert' waiting,' outside one of the Parks, where tiuisic was playinj,', a shabby old rah drove up beside ours. The horse was ail old worn-out chestnut, with an ill-kept coat, and bones that showed plainly throuf,d) it, the knees knuckled over, and tlu' forelef^s were viry unsteady, I had been eating some hay, and the wind rolled a little lock of it that way, and the poor creature put out her ionj,' thin neck and picKe - ir 208 Black Beauly. li; it was only Harry. He cleaned us and fed us, and swept out the stalls, then he put the straw back again as if it was Sunday. He was very still, and neither whistled nor sang. At noon he came again and gave us our food and water ; this time Dolly came with him ; she was crying, and I could gather from what they said, that Jerry was dangerously ill, and the doctor said it was a bad case. So two days passed, and there was great trouble indoors. We only saw Harry, and sometimes Dolly. I think she came for company, for Polly was always with Jerry, and he had to be kept very quiet. On the third day, whilst Harry was in the stable, a tap came at the door, and Governor Grant came in. " I wouldn't go to the house, my boy," he said, " but I want to know how your father is." " He is very bad," said Harry, " he can't be much worse; they call it * bronchitis ; ' the doctor thinks it will turn one way or another to-night." " That's bad, very bad," said Grant, shaking his head ; " I know two men who died of that last week ; it takes 'em off in no time ; but whilst there's life there's hope, so you must keep up your spirits." " Yes," said Harry quickly, " and the doctor s^id that father had a better chance than most men, because he didn't drink. He said yesterday the fever was so I^gh, that if father had been a drinking man, it would have bun. 'lim up like a piece of paper ; but I believe he thinks he will get over it ; don't you think he will, Mr. Grant ? " The Governor looked puzzled. " If there's any rule that good men should get over these things, I am sure he will, my boy ; he's the best man I know. I'll look in early to-morrow." Early next morning he was there. " Well ? " said he. " Father is better," said Harry. " Mother hopes he will get over it." " Thank God I " said the Governor, " and now you must keep I Jerry s Neiv Year. 209 him warm, and keep his mind easy, and that brings me to the horses ; you see, Jack will be all the better for the rest of a week or two in a warm stable, and you can easily take him a turn up and down the street to stretch his legs; but this young one, if he does not get work, he will soon be all up on end, as you may say, and will be rather too much for you ; and when he does go out, there'll be an accident." " It is like that now," said Harry, " I have kept him short of corn, but he's so full of spirit I don't know what to do with him." "Just so," said Grant. " Now look here, will you tell youi mother that if she is agreeable, I will come for him every day till something is arranged, and take him for a good spell of work, and whatever he earns, I'll bring your mother half of it, and that will help with the horses' feed. Your father is in a good club, I know, but that won't keep the horses, and they'll be eating their heads off all this time : I'll come at noon and hear what she says," and without waiting for Harry's thanks, he was gone. At noon I think he went and saw Polly, for he and Harry came to the stable together, harnessed Hotspur, and took him out. For a week or more he came for Hotspur, and when Harry thanked him or said anything about his kindness, he laughed it off, saying, it was all good luck for him, for his horses were wanting a little rest which they would not othci 'se have had. Jerry grew better, steadily, but the doctor said that he must never go back to the cab-work again if he wished to be an old man. The children had many consultations together about what father and mother would do, and how they could help to earn money. One afternoon. Hotspur was brought in very wet and dirty. "The streets are nothing but slush," said the Governor; " it will give you a good warming, my boy, to get him clean and dry." •.^tffirT:"" 2 lO Black Beauty. *' All right, Governor," said Harry, " I shall not leave him till he is ; you know I have been trained by my father."' " I wish all the boys had been trained like you," said the Governor. While Harry was sponging off the mud from Hotspur's body and legs, Dolly came in, looking very full of something. " Who lives at Fairstowe, Harry ? Mother has got a letter from Fairstowe ; she seemed so glad, and ran upstairs to father with it." " Don't you know? Why, it is the name of Mrs. Fowler's place — mother's old mistress, you know — the lady that father met last summer, who sent you and me five shillings each." " Oh ! Mrs. Fowler ; of course I know all about her, I wonder what she is writing to mother about." " Mother wrote to her last week," said Harry : " you know she told father if ever he gave up the cab-work, she would like to know. I wonder what she says ; run in and see, Dolly." Harry scrubbed away at Hotspur with a huish ! huish ! like any old ostler. In a few minutes Dolly came dancing into the stable. " Oh ! Harry, there never was anything so beautiful ; Mrs. Fowler says, we are to all go and live near her. There is a cottage now empty that will just suit us, with a garden, and a hen house, and apple trees, and everything ; and her coachman is going away in the spring, and then she will want father in his place ; and there are good families round, where you can get a place in the garden, or the stable, or as a page boy ; and there's a good school for me ; and mother is laughing and crying by turns, and father does look so happy ! " " That's uncommon jolly," said Harry, " and just the right thing, I should say ; it will suit father and mother both ; but I don't intend to be a page boy with tight clothes and rows of buttons. I'll be a groom or a gardener." It was quickly settled that as soon as Jerry was well enough, they should remove to the country, a, ' that the cab and horses should be sold as soon as possible. ferry s New Year. 21 I This was heavy news for me, for I was not young now, and could not look for any improvement in my condition. Since I left Birtwick I had never been so happy as with my dear master, Jerry; but three years of cab-work, even under the best conditions, will tell on one's strength, and I felt that I was not the horse that I had been. Grant said at once that he would take Hotspur ; and there were men on the stand who would have bought me ; but Jerry said I should not go to cab-work again with just anybody, and the Governor promised to find a place for me where I should be comfortable. The day came for going away. Jerry had not been allowed to go out yet, and I never saw him after that New Year's eve. Polly and the children came to bid me good-bye. " Poor old Jack ! dear old Jack 1 I wish we could take you with us," she said, and then laying her hand on my mane, she put her face close to my neck and kissed me. Dolly was crying and kissed me too. Harry stroked me a great deal, but said nothing, only he seemed very sad, and so I was led away to my new place. P 2 CHAPTER XLVT. II \i Sst?=:^\ JAKES AND THE LADY. WAS sold to a corn dealer and baker, whom Jerry- knew, and with him he thought I should have good food and fair work. In the first he was quite right, and if my master had always been on the premises, I do not think I should have been over- loaded, but there was a foreman who was always hurrying and driving even'one, and frequently ■^ when I had quite a full load, he would order something else to be taken on. My carter, whose name was Jakes, often said it was more than I ought to take, but the other always overruled him : " 'Twas no use going twice when once would do, and he chose to get business forward." Jakes, like the other carters, always had the bearing rein up, which prevented me from drawing easily, and by the time I had been there three or four months, I found the work telling very much on my strength. One day, I was loaded more than usual, and part of the road was a steep uphill : I used all my strength, but I could not get on, and was obliged continually to stop. This did not please my driver, and he laid his whip on badly. " Get on, you lazy fellow," he said, "or I'll make you." Again I started the heavy load, and struggled on a few yards ; Jakes and the Lady, 213 again the whip came down, and again I struggle--' forward. The pain of that great cart whip vvas sharo, but my mind was hurt quite as much as my poor sides. To be punished and abused when I was doing my very best was so hard, it took the heart out of me. A third time he was flogging me cruelly, when a lady stepped quickly up to him, and said in a sweet, earnest voice — ry " Oh ! pray do not whip your good horse any more ; I am sure he is doing all he can, and the road is very steep, I am sure he is doing his best." " If doing his best won't get this load up, he must do some- thuig more than his best ; that's all I know, ma'am," said Jakes. " But is it not a very heavy load ? " she said. " Yes, yes, too heavy," he said, " but that's not my fault, the foreman came just as we were starting, and would have three hundredweight more put on to save him trouble, and I must get on with it as well as I can." He was raising his whip again, when the lady said — " Pray, stop, I think I can help you if you will let me." The man laughed. " You see," she said, " you do not give him a fair chance ; he •cannot use all his power with his head held back as it is with ;hat bearing rein ; if you would take it off, I am sure he would do better— ^^ try it," she said persuasively, " I should be very glad if you would." " Well, well," said Jakes, with a short laugh, ** anything to please a lady of course. How far would you wish it down, ma'am ? " " Quite down, give him his head altogether." The rein was taken off, and in a moment I put my head down to my very knees. What a comfort it was ! Then I tossed it up and down several times to get the aching stiffness out of my neck. " Poor fellow ! that is what you wanted," said she, patting •and stroking me with her gentle hand ; "and now if you will 214 Black Beauty, speak kindly to him and lead him on, I believe he will be able to do better." Jakes took the rein — " Come on, Blackie." I put down my head, and threw my whole weight against the collar ; I spared no strength ; the load moved on, and I pulled it steadily up the hill, and then stopped to take breath. The lady had wa'ked along the footpath, and now came across into the road. She stroked and patted my neck, as I had not been patted for many a long day. " You see he was quite willing when you gave him the chance ; I am sure he is a finj-tempered creature, and I dare say has known better days. You won't put that rein on again, will you ? " for he was just going to hitch it up on the old plan. *' Well, ma'am, I can't deny that having his head has helped him up the hill, and I'll remember it another time, and thank you, ma'am ; but if he went without a bearing-rein, I should be the laughing-stock of all the carters ; it is the fashion, you see." " Is it not better," she said, " to lead a good fashion, than to follow a bad one ? A great many gentlemen do not use bearing reins now ; our carriage horses have not worn them for fifteen years, and work with much less fatigue than those who have them ; besides," she added in a very serious voice, " we have no right to distress any of God's creatures without a very good reason ; we call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel, but they do not suffer less because they have no words. But I must not detain you now ; I thank you for trying my plan with your good horse, and I am sure you will find it far better than the whip. Good day," and with another soft pat on my neck she stepped lightly across the path, and I saw her no more. " That was a real lady, I'll be bound for it," said Jakes to himself ; " she spoke just as polite as if I was a gentleman, and I'll try her plan, uphill, at any rate ; " and I must do him the justice to say, that he let my rein out several holes, and going Jakes and the Lady. f5 uphill after that, he always gave me my head ; but the heavy loads went on. Good feed and fair rest will keep up one's strength under full work, but no horse can stand against over- loading ; and I was getting so thoroughly pulled down from this cause, that a younger horse was bought in my place. I may as well mention here, what I suffered at this time from another cause. I had heard horses speak of it, but had never myself had experience of the evil ; this was a badly-lighted stable ; there was only one very small window at the end, and the consequence was that the stalls were almost dark. Besides the depressing effect this had on my spirits, it very much weakened my sight, and when I was suddenly brought out of the darkness into .he glare of daylight, it was very painr ful to my eyes. Several times I stumbled over the threshold, and could scarcely see where I vv^as going. I believe, had I stayed there very long, I should have become purblind, and that would have been a great misfortune, for I have heard men say that a stone-blind horse was safer to drive than one which had imperfect sight, as it generally makes them very timid. However, I escaped without any permanent injury to my sight, and was sold to a large cab owner. CHAPTER XLVII. HARD TIMES. SHALL never forget my new master ; he had black eyes and a hook nose, his mouth was as full of teeth as a bull-dog's, and his voice was as harsh as the grinding of cart wheels over gravel stones. His name was Nicholas Skinner, and I believe he was the same man that poor Seedy Sam drove for. I have heard men say that seeing is believing ; but I should say that feeling is believing ; for much as I had seen before, I never knew till now the utter misery of a cab- horse's life. Skinner had a low set of cabs and a low set of drivers ; he was hard on the men, and the men were hard on the horses. In this place we had no Sunday rest, and it was in the heat of summer. Sometimes on a Sunday morning, a party of fast men would hire the cab for the day ; four of them inside and another with the driver, and I had to take them ten or fifteen miles out into the country, and back again : never would any of them get down to walk up a hill, let it be ever so steep, or the day ever so hot — unless, indeed, when the driver was afraid I should not manage it, and sometimes I was so fevered and worn that I could hardly touch my food. How I used to long for the nice bran mash with nitre in it that Jerry used to give us on Saturday nights in hot weather, that used to cool us down and 1 Hard Times. 217 make us so comfortable. Then we had two nights and a whole day for unbroken rest, and on Monday morning we were as fresh as young horses again ; but here, there was no rest, and my driver was just as hard as his master. He had a cruel whip with something so sharp at the end that it sometimes drew blood, and he would even whip me und-^r the belly, and flip the lash out at my head. Indignities like these took the heart out of me terribly, but still I did my best and never hung back ; for, as poor Ginger said, it was no use ; men are the strongest. My life was now so utterly wretched, that I wished I might, like Ginger, drop down dead at my work, and be out of my misery ; and one day my wish very nearly came to pass. I went on the stand at eight in the morning, and had done a good share of work, when we had to take a fare to the railway. A long train was just expected in, so my driver pulled up at the back of some of the outside cabs, to take the chance of a return fare. It was a very heavy train, and as all the cabs were soon engaged, ours was called for. There was a party of four ; a noisy, blustering man with a lady, a little boy, and a young girl, and a great deal of luggage. The lady and the boy got into the cab, and while the man ordered about the luggage, the young girl came and looked at me. " Papa," she said, " I am sure this poor h^rse cannot take us and all our luggage so far, he is so very weak and worn up ; do look at him." " Oh ! he's all right, miss," said my driver, " he's strong enough." The porter, who was pulling about some heavy boxea suggested to the gentleman, as there was so much luggage, whether he would not take a second cab. " Can your horse do it, or can't he ? " said the blustering man. " Oh ! he can do it all right, sir ; send up the boxes, porter; he could take more than that," and he helped to haul up a box so heavy that I could feel the springs go down. 2l8 Black Beauty. " Papa, papa, do take a second cab," said the youn^ girl in a beseeching tone ; ** I am sure we are wrong, I am sure it is very cruel." " Nonsense, Grace, get in at once, and don't make all this fuss ; a pretty thing it would be if a man of business had to examine every cab-horse before he hired it — the man knows his own business, of course : there, get in and hold your tongue ! " My gentle friend had to obey ; and box after box was dragged up and lodged on the top of the cab, or settled by the side of the driver. At last all was ready, and with his usual jerk at the rein, and slash of the whip, he drove out of the station. The load was very heavy, and I had had neither food nor rest since the morning ; but I did my best, as I always had done, in spite of cruelty and injustice. I got along fairly till we came to Ludgate Hill, but there the heavy load and my own exhaustion were too much. I was struggling to keep on, goaded by constant chucks of the rein and use of the whip, when, in a single moment — I cannot tell how — my feet slipped from under me, and I fell heavily to the ground on my side ; the suddenness and the force with which I fell, seemed to beat all the breath out of my body. I lay perfectly still ; indeed, I had no power to move, and I thought now I was going to die. I heard a sort of confusion round me, loud angry voices, and the getting down of the luggage, but it was all like a dream. I thought I heard that sweet pitiful voice saying, "Oh! that poor horse ! it is all our fault." Someone came and loosened the throat strap of my bridle, and undid the traces which kept the collar so tight upon me. Someone said, " He's dead, he'll never get up again." Then I could hear a policeman giving orders, but I did not even open my eyes, I could only draw a gasping breath now and then. Some cold water was thrown over my head, and some cordial was poured into my mouth, and something was covered over me. I cannot tell how long I lay there, but I found my life coming back, and fcl'jM.- --% 'I -.VAS SU|-1'ICIKM1.Y KliCOVKKKIl TO HK LEI) BACK TO ^KINN'K's STAHI Kh. 220 Black Beauty^ a kind-voiced man was patting me and encouraging me to rise. After some more cordial had been given me, and after one or two attempts, I staggered to my feet, and was gently led to some stables close by. Here I was put into a well-littered stall, and some warm gruel was brought to me, which I drank thankfully. In the evening I was sufficiently recovered to be led back to Skinner's stables, where I think they did the best for me they could. In the morning Skinner came with a farrier to look at me. He examined me very closely, and said — " This is a case of overwork more than disease, and if you could give him a run off for six months, he would be able to work again ; but now there is not an ounce of strength in him." " Then he must just go to the dogs," said Skinner ; " I have no meadows to nurse sick horses in — he might get well or he might not ; that sort of thing don't suit my business, my plan is to work 'em as long as they'll go, and then sell 'em for what they'll fetch, at the knacker's or elsewhere." "If he was broken-winded," said the farrier, "you had better have him killed out of hand, but he is not ; there is a sale of horses coming off in about ten days ; if you rest him and feed him up, he may pick up, and you may get more than his skin is worth, at any rate." Upon this advice. Skinner, rather unwillingly, I think, gave orders that I should be well fed and cared for, and the stable man, happily for me, carried out the orders with a much better will than hir; master had in giving them. Ten days of perfect rest, plenty of good oats, hay, bran mashes, with boiled linseed mixed in them, did more to get up my condition than anything else could have done ; those linseed mashes were delicious, and I began to think, after all. it might be better to live than go to the dogs. When the twelfth day after the accident came, I was taken to the sale, a few miles out of London. I felt that any change from my present place must be an im- provement, so I held up my head, and hoped for the best. 4 lil CHAPTER XLVIII. FARMER THOROUGHGOOD AND HIS GRANDSON WILHE. this sale, of course I found myself in company with the old broken-down horses— some lame, some broken- winded, some old, and some that I am sure it would have been merciful to shoot. The buyers and sellers too, many of them, looked not much better off than the poor beasts they were bargaining about. There were poor old men, trying to get a horse or pony for a few pounds, that might drag about some little wood or coal cart. There were poor men trying to sell a worn-out beast for two or three pounds, rather than have the greater loss of killing him. Some of them looked as if poverty and hard times had hardened them all over ; but there were others that I would have willingly used the last of my strength in serving ; poor and shabby, but kind and human, with voices that I coT-ld trust. There was one tottering old man that took a great fancy to me, and I to him, but I was not strong enough — it was an anxious time ! Coming from the better part of the fair, I noticed a man who looked like a gentleman farmer, with a young boy by his side ; he had a broad back and round shoulders, a kind, ruddy face, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat. When he came up to me and my companions, he stood still, and gave a pitiful look round upon us. I saw his eye rest U ' ^ « 222 Black Beauty. on mc ,• I had still a good mane and tail, which did something for my appearance. I pricked my ears and looked at him, " There's a horse, Willie, that has known better days." " Poor old fellow ! " said the boy, " do you think, grand- papa, he was ever a carriage horse ? " "Oh yes! my boy," said the farmer, coming closer, "he might have been anything when he was young; look at his nostrils and his ears, the shape of his neck and shoulder ; there's a deal of breeding about that horse." He put out his hand and gave me a kind pat on the neck. I put out my nose in answer to his kindness ; the boy stroked my face. " Poor old fellow! see, grandpapa, how well he understands kindness. Could not you buy him and make him young again, as you did with Ladybird ? " " My desr boy, I can't make all old horses young ; besides, Ladybird was not so very old, as she was run down and badly used." " Well, grandpapa, I don't believe that this one is old ; look at his mane and tail. I wish you would look into his mouth, and then you could tell ; though he is so very thin, his eyes are not sunk like some old horses'." The old gentleman laughed. " Bless the boy I he is as horsey as his old grandfather." " But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and ask the price ; I am sure he would grow young in our meadows." The man who had brought me for sale now put in his word. " The young gentleman's a real knowing one, sir : now the fact is, this 'ere boss is just pulled down with overwork in the cabs ; he's not an old one, and I heerd as how the vetenary should say, that a six months' run off would set him right up, being as how his wind was not broken. Pve had the tending of him these ten days past, and a gratefuller, pleasanter animal I never met with, and 'twould be worth a gentleman's while to give a five-pound note for him, and let him have a chance. I'll be bound he'd 'oe worth twenty pounds next spring." Farmer Thoroughgood and his Grandson Willie. 223 The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy looked up eagerly. " Oh ! grandpapa, did you not say, the colt sold for five pounds more than you expected ? you would not be poorer if you did buy this one." The farmer slowly felt my legs, which were much swelled and strained ; then he looked at my mouth — " Thirteen or fourteen, I should say ; just trot him out, will you? " I arched my poor thin neck, raised my tail a little, and threw out my legs as well as I could, for they were very stiff. " What is the lowest you will take for him ? " said the farmer is I came back. " Five pounds, sir ; that was the lowest price my master set." " 'Tis a speculation," said the old gentleman, shaking his head, but at the same time slowly drawing out his purse — " quite a speculation ! Have you any more business here ? " he said, counting the sovereigns into his hand. " No, sir, I can take him for you to the inn, if you please." " Do so, I am now going there." They walked forward, and I was led behind. The boy could hardly control his delight, and the old gentleman seemed to enjoy his pleasure. I had a good feed at the inn, and was then gently ridden home by a servant of my new master's, and Lurned into a large meadow with a shed in one corner of it. Mr. Thoroughgood, for that was the name of my benefactor, gave orders that I should have hay and oats every night and morning, and the run of the meadow during the day, and " you, Willie," said he, " must take the oversight of him ; I give him in charge to you." The boy was proud of his charge, and undertook it in all seriousness. There was not a day when he did not pay me a visit ; sometimes picking me out from amongst the other horses, and giving me a bit of carrot, or something good, or some- *fiij»i«»*r— :j«i»*w*ww« iaDiiSP i »HfcW » < » itlll» l »il l l ii»MI I 224 Black Beauty. times standing by me whilst I ate my oats. lie always came with kind words and caresses, and of course I grew very fond of him. He called me Old Crony, as I used to come to him in the field and follow him about. Sometimes he brought his grandfather, who always looked closely at my legs - " This is our point, Willie," he would say ; " but he is improving so steadily that I think we shall see a change for the better in the spring." The perfect rest, the g(H)d food, the soft turf, and gentle exercise, soon began to tell on my contlition and my spirits. 1 had a good constitution from my mother, and I was never strained when I was young, so that I had a better chance than many horses, whv) have been workeil before they came to their full strength. During the winter my legs improved so much, that I began to feel quite young again. The spring came round, and one day in March Mr. Thoroughgood determined that he would try me in the phaeton. I was well pleased, and he and Willie drove me a few miles. My legs were not stiff now, and I did the work with perfect ease. " He's growing young, Willie ; we must give him a little gentle work now, and by midsummer he will be as good as Ladybird : he has a beautiful mouth, and good paces, they can't be better." " Oh 1 grandpapa, how glad I am you bought him ! " " So am I, my boy, but he has to thank you more than me; we must now be looking out for a quiet, genteel place for him, where he will be valued." ' I ' — ,i-'-', ^M CHAPTER XTJX. MY LAST HOME. NE day (lurinpj this summer, the p^room cleaned and dressed me with such extraordinary care, that I thouj^ht some new chanj^'e must be at hand ; he trimmed my fetlocks and lef,'s, passed the tarbrush over my hoofs, and even parted my forelock. 1 think the harness had an extra polish. Willie seemed hr'-' anxious, half merry, as he got into the chaise with his grandfather. " If the ladies take to him," said the old gentleman, " they'll be suited, and he'll be suited : we can but try." At the distance of a mile or two from the village, we came to a pretty, low house, with a lawn and shrubbery at the front, and a drive up to the door. Willie rang the bell, and asked if Miss Blomefield or Miss Ellen was at home. Yes, they were. So, whilst Willie stayed with me, Mr. Thoroughgood went into the house. In about ten minutes he returned, followed by three ladies; one tall, pale lady, wrapped in a white shawl, leaned on a younger, with dark eyes and a merry face ; the other, a very stately-looking person, was Miss Blomefield. They all came and looked at me and asked questions. The younger lady — that was Miss Ellen — took to me very much ; she said she was sure she should like me, I had such a good face. The tall, pale lady said that she should always be nervous in riding behind a horse that had once been down, as I might come down again, and if I did, she should never get over the fright. 220 Black Beauty. " You see, ladies," said Mr. Thoroughgood, " many first-rate horses have had their knees broken through the carelessness of their drivers, without any fault of their own, and from what I see of this horse, I should say that is his case ; but of course I do not wish to influence 3'ou. If you incline, you can have him on trial, and then your coachman will see what he thinks of him." " You have always been such a good adviser to us about our horses," said the stately lady, "that your recommendation would go a long way with me, and if my sister Lavinia sees no objection, we will accept your offer of a trial, with thanks." It was then arranged that I should be sent for the next day. In the morning a smart-looking young man came for me ; at first, he looked pleased ; but when he saw my knees, he said in a disappointed voice — " I didn't think, sir, you would have recommended my ladies a blemished horse like that," "'Handsome is — that handsome does,'" said my master; " you are only taking him on trial, and I am sure you will do fairly by him, young man, and if he is i.ot as safe as any horse }0u ever drove, send him back." I was led home, placed in a comfortable stable, fed, and left to myself. The next day, when my groom was cleaning my face, he said — " That is just like the star that Black Beauty had, he is much the same height too, I wonder where he is now." A little further on, he came to the place m my neck where I was bled, and where a little knot was left in the skin. He almost started, and began to look me over carefully, talking to himself. •' White star in the forehead, one white foot on the off side, this little knot just in that place ; " then looking at the middle of my back — "and as I am alive, tliere is that little patch of whitv? hair that John used to call ' Beauty's threepenny bit.' It musi be Black Beauty I Why, Beauty ! Beauty! do you 22 8 Black Beauty, know me ? little Joe Green, that almost killed you ? " And he began patting and patting me as if he was quite overjoyed. I could not say that I remembered him, for now he was a fine grown young fellow, with black whiskers and a man's voice, but I was sure he knew me, and that he was Joe Green, and I was very glad. I put my nose up to him, and tried to say that we were friends. I never saw a man so pleased. " Give you a fair trial ! I should think so indeed ! I wonder who the rascal was that broke your knees, my old Beauty ! you must have been badly served out somewhere ; well, well, it won't be my fault if you haven't good times of it now. I wish John Manly was here to see you." In the afternoon I was put into a low Park chair and brought to the door. Miss Ellen was going to try me, and Green went v ith her. I soon found that she was a good driver, and she seemed pleased with my paces. I heard Joe telling her about me, and that he was sure I was Squire Gordon's old Black Beauty. When we returned, the other sisters came out to hear how I had behaved myself. She told them what she had just heard, and said — " I shall certainly write to Mrs. Gordon, and tell her that her favourite horse has come to us. How pleased she will be!" After this I was driven every day for a week or so, and as I appeared to be quite safe. Miss Lavinia at last ventured out in the small close carriage. After this it was quite decided to keep me and call me by my old name of " Black Beauty." I have now lived in this happy place a whole year. Joe is the best and kindest of grooms. My work is easy and pleasant, and I feel my strcigth and spirits all coming back again. Mr. Thoroughgood said to Joe the other day — " In your place he will last till he is twenty years old — perhaps more." Willie always speaks to me when he can, and treats me as My Last Home. 229 his special friend. My ladies have promised that I shall never be sold, and so I have nothing to fear ; and here my story ends. My troubles are all over, and I am at home ; and often before I am quite awake, I fancy I am still in the orchard at Birtwick, standing with my old friends under the apple trees. I '-aJ \ nWlS ;'