by Anna Sewell
"One dark night he was galloping home as usual, when all of a sudden thewheel came against some great heavy thing in the road, and turned thegig over in a minute. He was thrown out and his arm broken, and some ofhis ribs, I think. At any rate, it was the end of my living with him,and I was not sorry. But you see it will be the same everywhere for me,if men must go so fast. I wish my legs were longer!"
Poor Peggy! I was very sorry for her, and I could not comfort her, forI knew how hard it was upon slow-paced horses to be put with fast ones;all the whipping comes to their share, and they can't help it.
She was often used in the phaeton, and was very much liked by some ofthe ladies, because she was so gentle; and some time after this she wassold to two ladies who drove themselves, and wanted a safe, good horse.
I met her several times out in the country, going a good steady pace,and looking as gay and contented as a horse could be. I was very glad tosee her, for she deserved a good place.
After she left us another horse came in her stead. He was young, and hada bad name for shying and starting, by which he had lost a good place. Iasked him what made him shy.
"Well, I hardly know," he said. "I was timid when I was young, and was agood deal frightened several times, and if I saw anything strange Iused to turn and look at it--you see, with our blinkers one can't seeor understand what a thing is unless one looks round--and then my masteralways gave me a whipping, which of course made me start on, and did notmake me less afraid. I think if he would have let me just look at thingsquietly, and see that there was nothing to hurt me, it would have beenall right, and I should have got used to them. One day an old gentlemanwas riding with him, and a large piece of white paper or rag blew acrossjust on one side of me. I shied and started forward. My master as usualwhipped me smartly, but the old man cried out, 'You're wrong! you'rewrong! You should never whip a horse for shying; he shies because he isfrightened, and you only frighten him more and make the habit worse.'So I suppose all men don't do so. I am sure I don't want to shy for thesake of it; but how should one know what is dangerous and what is not,if one is never allowed to get used to anything? I am never afraid ofwhat I know. Now I was brought up in a park where there were deer; ofcourse I knew them as well as I did a sheep or a cow, but they are notcommon, and I know many sensible horses who are frightened at them, andwho kick up quite a shindy before they will pass a paddock where thereare deer."
I knew what my companion said was true, and I wished that every younghorse had as good masters as Farmer Grey and Squire Gordon.
Of course we sometimes came in for good driving here. I remember onemorning I was put into the light gig, and taken to a house in PulteneyStreet. Two gentlemen came out; the taller of them came round to myhead; he looked at the bit and bridle, and just shifted the collar withhis hand, to see if it fitted comfortably.
"Do you consider this horse wants a curb?" he said to the hostler.
"Well," said the man, "I should say he would go just as well without;he has an uncommon good mouth, and though he has a fine spirit he has novice; 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 along journey, is it not, old fellow?" he said, patting my neck.
Then he took the reins, and they both got up. I can remember now howquietly he turned me round, and then with a light feel of the rein, anddrawing the whip gently across my back, we were off.
I arched my neck and set off at my best pace. I found I had some onebehind me who knew how a good horse ought to be driven. It seemed likeold times again, and made me feel quite gay.
This gentleman took a great liking to me, and after trying me severaltimes with the saddle he prevailed upon my master to sell me to a friendof his, who wanted a safe, pleasant horse for riding. And so it came topass that in the summer I was sold to Mr. Barry.
30 A Thief
My new master was an unmarried man. He lived at Bath, and was muchengaged in business. His doctor advised him to take horse exercise, andfor this purpose he bought me. He hired a stable a short distance fromhis lodgings, and engaged a man named Filcher as groom. My master knewvery little about horses, but he treated me well, and I should have hada good and easy place but for circumstances of which he was ignorant. Heordered the best hay with plenty of oats, crushed beans, and bran,with vetches, or rye grass, as the man might think needful. I heard themaster give the order, so I knew there was plenty of good food, and Ithought I was well off.
For a few days all went on well. I found that my groom understoodhis business. He kept the stable clean and airy, and he groomed methoroughly; and was never otherwise than gentle. He had been an hostlerin one of the great hotels in Bath. He had given that up, and nowcultivated fruit and vegetables for the market, and his wife bred andfattened poultry and rabbits for sale. After awhile it seemed to me thatmy oats came very short; I had the beans, but bran was mixed with theminstead of oats, of which there were very few; certainly not more than aquarter of what there should have been. In two or three weeks this beganto tell upon my strength and spirits. The grass food, though very good,was not the thing to keep up my condition without corn. However, Icould not complain, nor make known my wants. So it went on for about twomonths; and I wondered that my master did not see that something wasthe matter. However, one afternoon he rode out into the country to see afriend of his, a gentleman farmer, who lived on the road to Wells.
This gentleman had a very quick eye for horses; and after he hadwelcomed his friend he said, casting his eye over me:
"It seems to me, Barry, that your horse does not look so well as he didwhen you first had him; has he been well?"
"Yes, I believe so," said my master; "but he is not nearly so lively ashe was; my groom tells me that horses are always dull and weak in theautumn, and that I must expect it."
"Autumn, fiddlesticks!" said the farmer. "Why, this is only August; andwith 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 feelme over.
"I can't say who eats your corn, my dear fellow, but I am much mistakenif 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 neckand shoulder; "he is as warm and damp as a horse just come up fromgrass. I advise you to look into your stable a little more. I hate to besuspicious, and, thank heaven, I have no cause to be, for I can trust mymen, present or absent; but there are mean scoundrels, wicked enough torob a dumb beast of his food. You must look into it." And turning tohis man, who had come to take me, "Give this horse a right good feed ofbruised oats, and don't stint him."
"Dumb beasts!" Yes, we are; but if I could have spoken I could have toldmy master where his oats went to. My groom used to come every morningabout six o'clock, and with him a little boy, who always had a coveredbasket with him. He used to go with his father 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 bin, and then he used to be off.
Five or six mornings after this, just as the boy had left the stable,the door was pushed open, and a policeman walked in, holding the childtight by the arm; another policeman followed, and locked the door on theinside, saying, "Show me the place where your father keeps his rabbits'food."
The boy looked very frightened and began to cry; but there was noescape, and he led the way to the corn-bin. Here the policeman foundanother empty bag like that which was found full of oats in the boy'sbasket.
Filcher was cleaning my feet at the time, but they soon saw him, andthough he blustered a good deal they walked him off to the "lock-up",and his boy with him. I heard afterward that the boy was not held to beguilty, but the man was sentenced to prison for two months.
31 A Humbug
My master was not immediately su
ited, but in a few days my new groomcame. He was a tall, good-looking fellow enough; but if ever there wasa humbug in the shape of a groom Alfred Smirk was the man. He was verycivil to me, and never used me ill; in fact, he did a great deal ofstroking and patting when his master was there to see it. He alwaysbrushed my mane and tail with water and my hoofs with oil before hebrought me to the door, to make me look smart; but as to cleaning myfeet or looking to my shoes, or grooming me thoroughly, he thought nomore of that than if I had been a cow. He left my bit rusty, my saddledamp, and my crupper stiff.
Alfred Smirk considered himself very handsome; he spent a great deal oftime about his hair, whiskers and necktie, before a little looking-glassin the harness-room. When his master was speaking to him it was always,"Yes, sir; yes, sir"--touching his hat at every word; and every onethought he was a very nice young man and that Mr. Barry was veryfortunate to meet with him. I should say he was the laziest, mostconceited fellow I ever came near. Of course, it was a great thing notto be ill-used, but then a horse wants more than that. I had a loosebox, and might have been very comfortable if he had not been tooindolent to clean it out. He never took all the straw away, and thesmell from what lay underneath was very bad; while the strong vaporsthat rose made my eyes smart and inflame, and I did not feel the sameappetite for my food.
One day his master came in and said, "Alfred, the stable smells ratherstrong; should not you give that stall a good scrub and throw downplenty 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 aninjury, but I'll do it if you please, sir."
"Well," said his master, "I should not like him to take cold; but Idon't like the smell of this stable. Do you think the drains are allright?"
"Well, sir, now you mention it, I think the drain does sometimes sendback 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, but found nothingamiss; 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 unhealthyand tender, and the master used to say:
"I don't know what is the matter with this horse; he goes veryfumble-footed. I am sometimes afraid he will stumble."
"Yes, sir," said Alfred, "I have noticed the same myself, when I haveexercised him."
Now the fact was that he hardly ever did exercise me, and when themaster was busy I often stood for days together without stretching mylegs 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,but more often restless and feverish. He never even gave me a mealof green food or a bran mash, which would have cooled me, for hewas altogether as ignorant as he was conceited; and then, instead ofexercise or change of food, I had to take horse balls and draughts;which, beside the nuisance of having them poured down my throat, used tomake me feel ill and uncomfortable.
One day my feet were so tender that, trotting over some fresh stoneswith my master on my back, I made two such serious stumbles that, as hecame down Lansdown into the city, he stopped at the farrier's, and askedhim to see what was the matter with me. The man took up my feet oneby one and examined them; then standing up and dusting his hands oneagainst the other, he said:
"Your horse has got the 'thrush', and badly, too; his feet are verytender; it is fortunate that he has not been down. I wonder your groomhas not seen to it before. This is the sort of thing we find in foulstables, where the litter is never properly cleaned out. If you willsend him here to-morrow I will attend to the hoof, and I will directyour man how to apply the liniment which I will give him."
The next day I had my feet thoroughly cleansed and stuffed with towsoaked in some strong lotion; and an 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 littlegreen food, and not so much corn, till my feet were well again. Withthis treatment I soon regained my spirits; but Mr. Barry was so muchdisgusted at being twice deceived by his grooms that he determined togive up keeping a horse, and to hire when he wanted one. I was thereforekept till my feet were quite sound, and was then sold again.
Part III
32 A Horse Fair
No doubt a horse fair is a very amusing place to those who have nothingto 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; andhundreds of cart horses of all sorts, some of them with their long tailsbraided up and tied with scarlet cord; and a good many like myself,handsome and high-bred, but fallen into the middle class, through someaccident or blemish, unsoundness of wind, or some other complaint. Therewere some splendid animals quite in their prime, and fit for anything;they were throwing out their legs and showing off their paces in highstyle, as they were trotted out with a leading rein, the groom runningby the side. But round in the background there were a number of poorthings, sadly broken down with hard work, with their knees knucklingover and their hind legs swinging out at every step, and there were somevery dejected-looking old horses, with the under lip hanging down andthe ears lying back heavily, as if there were no more pleasure in life,and no more hope; there were some so thin you might see all their ribs,and some with old sores on their backs and hips. These were sad sightsfor a horse to look upon, who knows not but he may come to the samestate.
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 saythere were more lies told and more trickery at that horse fair than aclever man could give an account of. I was put with two or three otherstrong, useful-looking horses, and a good many people came to look atus. 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, thenfeel all the way down my legs, and give me a hard feel of the skin andflesh, and then try my paces. It was wonderful what a difference therewas in the way these things were done. Some did it in a rough, offhandway, as if one was only a piece of wood; while others would take theirhands gently over one's body, with a pat now and then, as much as tosay, "By your leave." Of course I judged a good deal of the buyers bytheir manners to myself.
There was one man, I thought, if he would buy me, I should be happy.He was not a gentleman, nor yet one of the loud, flashy sort that callthemselves so. He was rather a small man, but well made, and quick inall his motions. I knew in a moment by the way he handled me, that hewas used to horses; he spoke gently, and his gray eye had a kindly,cheery look in it. It may seem strange to say--but it is true all thesame--that the clean, fresh smell there was about him made me take tohim; no smell of old beer and tobacco, which I hated, but a fresh smellas if he had come out of a hayloft. He offered twenty-three pounds forme, but that was refused, and he walked away. I looked after him, buthe was gone, and a very hard-looking, loud-voiced man came. I wasdreadfully afraid he would have me; but he walked off. One or two morecame who did not mean business. Then the hard-faced man came back againand offered twenty-three pounds. A very close bargain was being driven,for my salesman began to think he should not get all he asked, and mustcome down; but just then the gray-eyed man came back again. I could nothelp reaching out my head toward him. He stroked my face kindly.
"Well, old chap," he said, "I think we should suit each other. I'll givetwenty-four for him."
"Say twenty-five and you shall have him."
"Twenty-four ten," said my friend, in a very decided tone, "and notanother sixpence--yes or no?"
"D
one," said the salesman; "and you may depend upon it there's amonstrous deal of quality in that horse, and if you want him for cabwork he's a bargain."
The money was paid on the spot, and my new master took my halter, andled me out of the fair to an inn, where he had a saddle and bridleready. He gave me a good feed of oats and stood by while I ate it,talking to himself and talking to me. Half an hour after we were on ourway to London, through pleasant lanes and country roads, until we cameinto the great London thoroughfare, on which we traveled steadily, tillin the twilight we reached the great city. The gas lamps were alreadylighted; there were streets to the right, and streets to the left, andstreets crossing each other, for mile upon mile. I thought we shouldnever come to the end of them. At last, in passing through one, wecame to a long cab stand, when my rider called out in a cheery voice,"Good-night, governor!"
"Halloo!" cried a voice. "Have you got a good one?"
"I think so," replied my owner.
"I wish you luck with him."
"Thank you, governor," and he rode on. We soon turned up one of the sidestreets, and about halfway up that we turned into a very narrow street,with rather poor-looking houses on one side, and what seemed to becoach-houses and stables on the other.
My owner pulled up at one of the houses and whistled. The door flewopen, and a young woman, followed by a little girl and boy, ran out.There was a very lively greeting as my rider dismounted.
