by Anna Sewell
"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, afterthe 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 schoolto feed me and give me water. In the afternoon I was put into the cab.Jerry took as much pains to see if the collar and bridle fittedcomfortably as if he had been John Manly over again. There was nocheck-rein, no curb, nothing but a plain ring snaffle. What a blessingthat was!
After driving through the side-street we came to the large cabstandwhere Jerry had said "Good-night." On one side of this wide street werehigh houses with wonderful shop fronts, and on the other was an oldchurch and churchyard, surrounded by iron palisades. Alongside theseiron rails a number of cabs were drawn up, waiting for passengers; bitsof hay were lying about on the ground; some of the men were standingtogether talking; some were sitting on their boxes reading thenewspaper; and one or two were feeding their horses with bits of hay,and giving them a drink of water. We pulled up in the rank at the backof the last cab. Two or three men came round and began to look at me andpass 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 nameisn't Jones."
"Well," said Jerry pleasantly, "I suppose I need not find it out till itfind me out, eh? And if so, I'll keep up my spirits a little longer."
Then there came up a broad-faced man, dressed in a great gray coat withgreat gray capes and great white buttons, a gray hat, and a bluecomforter loosely tied around his neck; his hair was gray, too; but hewas a jolly-looking fellow, and the other men made way for him. Helooked me all over, as if he had been going to buy me; and thenstraightening himself up with a grunt, he said, "He's the right sort foryou, Jerry; I don't care what you gave for him, he'll be worth it." Thusmy character was established on the stand. This man's name was Grant,but he was called "Gray Grant," or "Governor Grant." He had been thelongest on that stand of any of the men, and he took it upon himself tosettle matters and stop disputes.
The first week of my life as a cab horse was very trying. I had neverbeen 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 feelanxious and harassed; but I soon found that I could perfectly trust mydriver, 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, hetook as much thought for his horses as he did for himself. He soon foundout that I was willing to work and do my best; and he never laid thewhip on me, unless 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 inwhich he took up the reins; and I believe his whip was more frequentlystuck up by his side than in his hand.
In a short time I and my master understood each other, as well as horseand man can do. In the stable, too, he did all that he could for ourcomfort. The stalls were the old-fashioned style, too much on the slope;but he had two movable bars fixed across the back of our stalls, so thatat night, when we were resting, he just took off our halters and put upthe bars, and thus we could turn about and stand whichever way wepleased, which is a great comfort.
Jerry kept us very clean, and gave us as much change of food as hecould, and always plenty of it; and not only that, but he always gave usplenty of clean fresh water, which he allowed to stand by us both nightand day, except of course when we came in warm. Some people say that ahorse ought not to drink all he likes; but I know if we are allowed todrink when we want it we drink only a little at a time, and it does us agreat deal more good than swallowing down half a bucketful at a timebecause we have been left without till we are thirsty and miserable.Some grooms will go home to their beer and leave us for hours with ourdry hay and oats and nothing to moisten them; then of course we gulpdown too much at once, which helps to spoil our breathing and sometimeschills our stomachs. But the best thing that we had here was our Sundaysfor rest! we worked so hard in the week, that I do not think we couldhave kept up to it, but for that day; besides, we had then time to enjoyeach other's company.
CHAPTER XIII
DOLLY AND A REAL GENTLEMAN
The winter came in early, with a great deal of cold and wet. There wassnow, or sleet, or rain, almost every day for weeks, changing only forkeen 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 warmthin us; but when it is soaking rain, they soon get wet through and are nogood. Some of the drivers had a waterproof cover to throw over, whichwas a fine thing; but some of the men were so poor that they could notprotect either themselves or their horses, and many of them sufferedvery much that winter. When we horses had worked half the day we went toour dry stables, and could rest; while they had to sit on their boxes,sometimes staying out as late as one or two o'clock in the morning, ifthey had a party to wait for.
When the streets were slippery with frost or snow, that was the worst ofall for us horses; one mile of such traveling with a weight to draw, andno 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 ourbalance; and, added to this, the fear of falling is more exhausting thananything else. If the roads are very bad, indeed, our shoes are roughed,but that makes us feel nervous at first.
One cold windy day, Dolly brought Jerry a basin of something hot, andwas standing by him while he ate it. He had scarcely begun, when agentleman, walking toward us very fast, held up his umbrella. Jerrytouched his hat in return, gave the basin to Dolly, and was taking offmy cloth, when the gentleman, hastening up, cried out, "No, no, finishyour soup, my friend; I have not much time to spare, but I can wait tillyou have done, and set your little girl safe on the pavement."
So saying, he seated himself in the cab. Jerry thanked him kindly, andcame back to Dolly. "There, Dolly, that's a gentleman; that's a realgentleman, Dolly; he has got time and thought for the comfort of a poorcabman and a little girl."
Jerry finished his soup, set the child across, and then took his ordersto drive to Clapham Rise. Several times after that, the same gentlemantook our cab. I think he was very fond of dogs and horses, for wheneverwe took him to his own door, two or three dogs would come bounding outto meet him. Sometimes he came round and patted me saying in his quiet,pleasant way: "This horse has got a good master, and he deserves it." Itwas a very rare thing for any one to notice the horse that had beenworking for him. I have known ladies to do it now and then, and thisgentleman, 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 thesteam engine that drew the train.
One day, he and another gentleman took our cab; theystopped at a shop in R---- Street, and while his friend went in, hestood 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 beenstanding, but they seemed to think they had waited long enough, andbegan to move off. Before they had gone, many paces, the carter camerunning out and caught them. He seemed furious at their having moved,and with whip and rein punished them brutally, even beating them aboutthe head. Our gentleman saw it all, and stepping quickly across thestreet, said in a decided voice: "If you don't stop that directly, I'llhave you arrested for leaving your horses, and for brutal conduct."
The man, who had clearly been drinking, poured forth some abusivelanguage, but he left off knocking the horses about, and taking thereins, got into his cart; meantime our friend had quietly taken anotebook from his pocket, and looking at the name and address painted onthe cart, he wrote something down.
"What do you want with that?" growled the carter, as he cracked hi
s whipand 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 companion, whosaid laughing, "I should have thought, Wright, you had enough businessof your own to look after, without troubling yourself about otherpeople's horses and servants."
Our friend stood still for a moment, and throwing his head a littleback, "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 ownbusiness, 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 thiswithout doing what I can, and many a master has thanked me for lettinghim know how his horses have been used."
"I wish there were more gentlemen like you, sir," said Jerry, "for theyare wanted badly enough in this city."
CHAPTER XIV
POOR GINGER
One day, while our cab and many others were waiting outside one of theparks where music was playing, a shabby old cab drove up beside ours.The horse was an old worn-out chestnut, with an ill-kept coat, and bonesthat showed plainly through it, the knees knuckled over, and thefore-legs were very unsteady. I had been eating some hay, and the windrolled a little lock of it that way, and the poor creature put out herlong thin neck and picked it up, and then turned round and looked aboutfor more. There was a hopeless look in the dull eye that I could nothelp noticing, and then, as I was thinking where I had seen that horsebefore, she looked full at me and said, "Black Beauty, is that you?"
It was Ginger! but how changed! The beautifully arched and glossy neckwas now straight, and lank, and fallen in; the clean, straight legs anddelicate fetlocks were swelled; the joints were grown out of shape withhard work; the face, that was once so full of spirit and life, was nowfull of suffering, and I could tell by the heaving of her sides, and herfrequent cough, how bad her breath was. Our drivers were standingtogether a little way off, so I sidled up to her a step or two, that wemight have a little quiet talk. It was a sad tale that she had to tell.
After a twelvemonth's run off at Earlshall, she was considered to be fitfor work again, and was sold to a gentleman. For a little while she goton very well, but after a longer gallop than usual, the old strainreturned, and after being rested and doctored she was again sold. Inthis way she changed hands several times, but always getting lower down.
"And so at last," said she, "I was bought by a man who keeps a number ofcabs and horses, and lets them out. You look well off, and I am glad ofit, but I could not tell you what my life has been. When they found outmy weakness, they said I was not worth what they gave for me, and that Imust go into one of the low cabs, and just be used up; that is what theyare doing, whipping and working with never one thought of what Isuffer--they paid for me, and must get it out of me, they say. The manwho hires me now pays a deal of money to the owner every day, and so hehas to get it out of me, too; and so it's all the week round and round,with never a Sunday rest."
I said, "You used to stand up for yourself if you were ill-used."
"Ah!" she said, "I did once, but it's no use; men are strongest, and ifthey are cruel and have no feeling, there is nothing that we can do butjust bear it--bear it on and on to the end. I wish the end was come, Iwish I was dead. I have seen dead horses, and I am sure they do notsuffer pain."
I was very much troubled, and I put my nose up to hers, but I could saynothing to comfort her. I think she was pleased to see me, for she said,"You are the only friend I ever had."
Just then her driver came up, and with a tug at her mouth, backed herout of the line and drove off, leaving me very sad, indeed.
A short time after this, a cart with a dead horse in it passed our cabstand. The head hung out of the cart tail, the lifeless tongue wasslowly dropping with blood; and the sunken eyes! but I can't speak ofthem, the sight was too dreadful! It was a chestnut horse with a long,thin neck. I saw a white streak down the forehead. I believe it wasGinger; I hoped it was, for then her troubles would be over. Oh! if menwere more merciful, they would shoot us before we came to such misery.
CHAPTER XV
At a sale I found myself in company with a lot of horses--some lame,some broken-winded, some old, and some that I am sure it would have beenmerciful to shoot.
The buyers and sellers, too, many of them, looked not much better offthan the poor beasts they were bargaining about. There were poor oldmen, trying to get a horse or pony for a few pounds, that might dragabout some little wood or coal cart. There were poor men trying to sella worn-out beast for two or three pounds, rather than have the greaterloss of killing him. Some of them looked as if poverty and hard timeshad hardened them all over; but there were others that I would havewillingly used the last of my strength in serving; poor and shabby, butkind and humane, with voices that I could trust. There was one totteringold man that took a great fancy to me, and I to him, but I was notstrong enough--it was an anxious time! Coming from the better part ofthe fair, I noticed a man who looked like a gentleman farmer, with ayoung 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 andmy companions, he stood still, and gave a pitiful look round upon us. Isaw his eye rest on me; I had still a good mane and tail, which didsomething 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, grandpapa, he was ever acarriage horse?"
"Oh, yes! my boy," said the farmer, coming closer, "he might have beenanything when he was young; look at his nostrils and his ears, the shapeof 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 mynose 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 withLadybird?"
"My dear boy, I can't make all old horses young; besides, Ladybird wasnot 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 maneand 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! he is as horsey as his oldgrandfather."
"But do look at his mouth, grandpapa, and ask the price; I am sure hewould grow young in our meadows."
The man who had brought me for sale now put in his word. "The younggentleman's a real knowing one, sir. Now, the fact is, this 'ere hoss isjust pulled down with over-work in the cabs; he's not an old one, and Iheard as how the vetenary said that a six-months' run off would set himright up, being as how his wind was not broken. I've had the tending ofhim these ten days past, and a gratefuller, pleasanter animal I nevermet with, and 'twould be worth a gentleman's while to give a five-poundnote for him, and let him have a chance. I'll be bound he'd be worthtwenty pounds next spring."
The old gentleman laughed, and the little boy looked up eagerly. "O,grandpapa, did you not say the colt sold for five pounds more than youexpected? 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; justtrot him out, will you?"
I arched my poor thin neck, raised my tail a little and threw out mylegs as well as I could, for they were very stiff.
"What is the lowest you will take for him?" said the farmer as I cameback. "Five pounds, sir; that was the lowest price my master set."
"'Tis a speculation," said the old gentleman, shaking his head, but atthe same time slowly drawing out his purse, "quite a speculation! Haveyou any more business here?" he said, counting the sovereigns into hishand. "No, sir, I can take him for you to the inn, if you please."
"Do so, I am now going there."
CHAPTER XVI
&
nbsp; MY LAST HOME
One day, during this summer, the groom cleaned and dressed me with suchextraordinary care that I thought some new change must be at hand; hetrimmed my fetlocks and legs, passed the tar-brush over my hoofs, andeven parted my forelock. I think the harness had an extra polish. Willieseemed half-anxious, half-merry, as he got into the chaise with hisgrandfather. "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 thedoor. Willie rang the bell, and asked if Miss Blomefield or Miss Ellenwas at home. Yes, they were. So, while 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 lady, with dark eyes and a merry face; the other, avery stately-looking person, was Miss Blomefield. They all came andlooked at me and asked questions. The younger lady--that was MissEllen--took to me very much; she said she was sure she should like me, Ihad such a good face. The tall, pale lady said she should always benervous in riding behind a horse that had once been down, as I mightcome down again, and if I did she should never get over the fright."
